Chapter 19
TARLIA
Berta’s special library with the older books sits deep within her castle.
Somehow, I was expecting something more majestic, some kind of grand library.
Instead, it looks like a cellar with some six shelves full of antique volumes, most of them bound in leather, and a large stone table in its center.
The value of this library lies in the rarity and age of some of the books, not in the quantity.
The queen graciously allowed us to remain here undisturbed with only a guard stationed outside, after appointing guest rooms where we can spend the night.
I still have chills remembering the moments when she hung us upside down, but I’m starting to think it’s some kind of fae sense of humor or maybe petty revenge for whatever Marlak did to her. It can’t have been too bad, if all she wants is for him to apologize.
I tried to stay close to Ziven and avoid Renel’s odd icy stare.
At least once we got to the library, Renel found a large pile of books, and now he’s focused on perusing them as if nothing else existed in the world.
He got most of the Tiurian books, and I wonder how much Astra would love to find out what’s in them.
I walk to the bookshelves, searching for history books, and take one about the Shadow War.
Ziven is reading about fae magic, while Mirella’s checking another history book. I open the large volume in front of me and realize it’s a translation, with Tiurian words side by side with the common language. Some sentences sound odd in the translation, but I can understand them.
It mentions something called the Tiurian Schism.
Tiuris had a king who wasn’t supported by a large part of the population.
I keep reading to see if it’s the Witch King, stumbling a little on some hard-to-read passages.
There could be something useful here, and then, perhaps not.
I wonder if we’ll even find something in just one night.
This type of research should take weeks to be done properly, but I don’t think we have that time, nor do I think Queen Berta wants us here for such a long period.
I keep reading, trying to skim through parts where it veers into tangents, trying to brush away the dread in my chest, the fear that perhaps this research could be useless.
Across from me, on the other end of the table, Renel is restless, opening and closing books, then sighing. Finally, he gets up.
“What is it?” Ziven asks.
Renel shakes his head and points at his pile of books. “It’s not here. It’s some kind of… dark magic. They wouldn’t leave it out in the open like that.” He looks at me. “Tarlia, can you help me here for a moment?” His voice is still cold, and he sounds like a pretentious king—or acting king.
I should tell him I’m busy reading my book, but my curiosity is bigger than my self respect and makes me get up and follow him. He leads me to the corner of the library, between the shelf and a stone wall.
The low ceiling make me feel out of air for a moment.
He points at the wall. “See here? There could be something.”
I nod, unsure why he asked me to come, and he proceeds to crouch and tap the wall softly, I suppose to search for a secret compartment or for a way to open it.
I’m almost asking if he needs any help, when he gets up, pinning me down with his stare.
“Are you upset? That I named you?”
Is he expecting me to cry? To whine? To complain? I won’t give him that pleasure. I blink. “Why would I be upset?”
His shoulders shrink. “Maybe… you didn’t understand why I did it.”
I chuckle and shrug. “You had to give a name. And it wasn’t as if she was really going to drop one of us.” My tone is light even if a chill runs up my spine as I recall that moment when my life was suspended by a thin rope.
He tilts his head. “I wasn’t sure. I didn’t know what she was going to do.”
I can’t help but frown. Does he think his explanation makes it any better? “Why are you telling me that?” I snap.
“Are you upset?” he asks again.
“No.” I don’t even try to hide the annoyance in my voice.
He stares at me for a long moment, then crouches again and taps on the stone, moving with determination and ease as if he’d done this a thousand times.
Focused like that, he’s achingly beautiful, which only stirs something angry and dark in my chest, some strange flame I’ll have to quench.
Still, as much as I’m annoyed at him, I can’t help but watch the way he feels the wall, can’t help but wish for him to peer it open and unveil its secrets.
Eventually, there’s a click, and he pulls a stone to reveal a compartment with some twenty books. He turns to me and raises an eyebrow, as if saying, See? I told you.
“How did you know?” I ask, my curiosity temporarily replacing my anger.
“Just figured it made sense. You don’t usually leave dark magic books where anyone can find them. They can be dangerous.”
He pulls the smallest book from there—a simple black thing with a worn cover—and ignores the flashy, thick, dangerous-looking volumes. There’s a huge book with some carved skulls on the spine, which I think I’d pick first, but I bet he thinks they wouldn’t place such a gaudy cover on a secret book.
He points at the shelves. “Do you want to check any of them?”
For some reason, even the sight of those books spooks me. “No. I have plenty to read at the table.”
“That’s how you know they have dark magic. They feel… disgusting or repulsive—at least for most people. Some fae, on the other hand, are drawn to them.”
“Which one are you?”
“Both. Naturally repulsed, but… fascinated with them as a study subject.”
He heads back to the main part of the library and sits at the table. I take my seat again and continue to peruse the history book, wondering if I should instead try to look into some of those super secret, dangerous volumes that make my hair stand on end.
Renel’s focused, reading the book he picked, his hair pulled back on one side only, his dark hair cascading onto his forehead, the sight knotting my chest. I’m so foolish.
I consider staring at Ziven instead, but he rejected me too.
The truth is that I need to try to find something useful in these books instead of drooling for Renel.
I bet Astra would love to see these books, and maybe even read this one, since it’s about Tiuris.
“Found it!” Renel’s voice startles me. “I knew it. I knew it.”
Mirella gives him an odd stare. “That has to be magic, Renel.”
Renel points at the book. “Dark magic, obviously.”
“Your magic,” she says. “To find something so quickly.”
He smirks. “I’m just really good at research.”
Mirella shrugs, and Ziven asks, “What is it?”
“They’re called tethers here, but I’m assuming it’s the same. There are,” his nose wrinkles in disgust, “complex rituals to achieve them, but you basically tie your life to other people, and you share your life force and attachment to this world with them. You can only die once they’re killed.”
“But if they can’t be killed…” I’m not even sure how to finish the thought.
He waves a finger. “That’s the thing. The anchors also keep each other alive, and the main magic wielder keeps them alive as well.
There’s an exchange of life force. Now, the anchors can be killed, but they’ll return to life soon, unless all the anchors and the beneficiary of their magic are killed within a certain window.
Here it says something like less than an hour, but these tethers need to be in close proximity.
It’s not the case with the Witch King, Zorwal, and I suppose Otavio.
There is some writing here implying research on extending the distance needed for the tethers to work.
Still, from what I’m seeing, the anchors must be killed before the Witch King. ”
Ziven exhales a shaky breath. “So Marlak is doomed, then. Whatever he did, it won’t have worked.”
I think about what they told me, that Marlak went to the Shadow Lands to face the Witch King on his own, all alone.
Renel tenses, perhaps imagining what’s happening to his brother, then sighs. “It might have worked—temporarily. Astra also beheaded the Witch King and for a few minutes at least, she got rid of him.”
Mirella leans forward on the table, as if to try to look at the book closely. “Why do we learn that he was defeated by beheading? If that won’t work?”
Renel snaps his fingers. “Tiurians built his prison. Beheading worked just enough for them to imprison him. But we can’t count on doing that again.
It took a lot of Tiurian magic and it was done by dozens of Tiurian magic wielders.
Even if we find the records on how that prison was built, how can we find enough Tiurians to power it? Tiurians with magical knowledge?”
Ziven pulls the note from his pocket. “I need to tell them that right now. What should I write?”
Renel takes a deep breath and covers his eyes with his hands.
“It’s too late, but tell them that killing the Witch King will accomplish nothing if Otavio and Zorwal aren’t killed first, not long before he’s killed.
If they can contact Marlak, they should ask him to return—if it isn’t too late.
Tell them to be aware that regardless of what he did, the Witch King is still alive, so they must be careful. ”
Ziven scribbles some words fast, his face grave.
“Does it say how these anchors can be killed?” I ask.
Renel shrugs. “Fire, of course.”
Ziven mock grimaces. “So freezing and throwing an anchor from a high window won’t kill him?”
“Not even fire will kill him,” Renel says. “Not unless the other anchor and the Witch King are killed soon afterward.” His face then turns somber. “If there are only two of them.”