Chapter 7
A DEVIOUS PLAN
Arioch
Exhaustion weighed upon me like iron shackles. Logic dictated that rest would hasten my recovery, but this attack had caught me unaware and woefully ignorant of my adversary, and those were not labels I would allow to define me.
I needed information.
Dismissing the wreckage of my hoard, I focused on the library, took a breath, and appeared amidst the written wisdom my family had amassed over the years.
Much of my life had unfolded between these floor-to-ceiling shelves.
To stave off tedium and ready myself for the day when I would at last be permitted to depart the estate, I had devoured and organized every scrap of potentially useful information I could find.
Now, the day had finally arrived.
To retrieve my artifact, I would need to hunt down the most fascinating creature no book could have prepared me for. She had tried to stab me and had escaped with my treasure, and now I was fantasizing about her death.
Or bedding her, because I was still a beast.
Perhaps she really had bewitched me.
Regardless, I needed to focus on gathering data. I needed to prepare in case this retrieval evolved into a declaration of war on an entire pack. I could not afford to underestimate the threat again.
Wincing, I lumbered directly to the section devoted to wolf shifters and surveyed the two shelves, attempting to recall the contents of each tome. More than a decade had passed since I had read several of them.
I reached for the first volume only to encounter an apple that materialized upon the shelf.
“A peace offering? Answers would be more prudent,” I grumbled.
Silence greeted me.
I switched to silent communication. Why did you delay so long before rousing me?
Again, nothing.
My temper flared, and I wanted nothing more than to snatch up the fruit and bash it against the wall; however, that would solve nothing and would likely reopen my injuries.
Besides, I was famished. Instead, I devoured it with haste.
The core vanished the instant I finished, and I began selecting books.
I filled my arms, envisioned the attached study, and took a step.
A sturdy wooden desk appeared directly before me. I balanced the books on it before all but collapsing into the chair. My head rolled back, and my eyes drifted closed.
Startling green eyes stared back at me.
My eyes flew open, and I sat up, ignoring the pain.
Another apple manifested atop the pile of books.
The manor had not offered me food since I was a child, when it would regularly sneak me sweets.
Nowadays, I preferred meat to anything, but the cook was asleep, and I was loath to wake her with the moon still so high in the sky.
So, I dispatched the second fruit with efficiency.
Warm magic cleansed my hands, and I reached for the first tome.
Movement caught my attention. A willowy figure crossed the threshold and entered on soundless feet, stopping immediately in front of the desk.
“Why has the ground received your blood this night, hatchling?” Catori asked. Mahogany almond-shaped eyes fixed on my face before dipping to inspect the wounds on my chest, unblinking.
“I was attacked.”
Protective fury blazed in her ebony pupils as she inclined her head to the side, like a bird, communing with the land much like I did the manor. Her stick-like eyebrows rose in surprise at what she learned. “An intruder. Yet the land did not alert me until your blood was spilled.”
“Yes. A thief disabled me and absconded with one of my treasures.”
What could only be seen as shock seized the dryad’s expression.
I had never seen her jaw drop before. Her eyes grew distant, and I knew she was talking to the manor.
She and my home shared a companionship that was beyond my comprehension.
I knew little of their complex history—only that she knew the trees that had given their lives for the manor’s construction—but she conversed with it often.
Her gaze descended to my stack of books, and a wooden chair manifested as she sat and favored me with her undivided attention. “Tell me everything.”
When I finished recounting my confrontation with the thief, Catori eyed me. “You will retrieve the artifact.”
It was not a question, yet I nodded anyway. “I must.”
I would finally leave the estate.
A shudder rippled up my spine. Whether it was from excitement or trepidation, I could not say.
Through the memories of my ancestors, I had seen many of the wonders that existed beyond the hedge, and was eager to record my own experiences.
Yet I had also seen the horrors, and with the ward’s dissolution, I now stood as the estate’s foremost safeguard.
“It will be a quick trip.”
Catori frowned at the books.
I leaned forward. “What is it?”
Her eyes darkened with emotion when they met mine. “I believe those were the last words your mother said to me.”
My throat seized as my final memories with my mother assaulted me. I shook my head, dispelling what I had neither the time nor the energy for, and dropped my gaze to the book before me. “I need to do research.”
“Your injuries require sustenance and rest.”
The words had barely left the dryad’s mouth before a wingless, four-foot-tall, bipedal draconian creature materialized beside my desk, bearing a covered silver platter. The aroma of bacon, eggs, and sausage elicited a rumble from my stomach and made me salivate.
Liesel’s expression radiated smug contentment. “Guten Morgen, m’lord.”
Night still ruled beyond the library windows, but I found myself suddenly concerned about nothing but the platter she held. Still, I forced myself to acknowledge her greeting with the appropriate composure. “Good morning, Liesel.”
The kobold, a creature covered in gleaming ruby-red scales with three horns protruding from her crown, wore a sturdy lavender work dress protected by an immaculate white apron.
Like all Tricari household staff, she drew power and fulfillment from caring for a magical estate, specifically through showcasing her culinary skills.
Her glowing yellow eyes smiled at me as she unveiled the platter and presented it for my inspection.
“As usual, you have outdone yourself.”
The scales across her cheeks turned crimson. “M’lord is too kind.”
I accepted her offering with one hand while pushing my stack of books to the side with the other to make room for the platter. Silverware and a goblet of milk materialized on the desk beside it.
“You have my gratitude.”
Liesel offered a bow and vanished.
Catori observed me, amusement dancing at the edges of her mouth.
“You roused her,” I said.
Her chin dipped fractionally in acknowledgement. “I did. Your blood loss is significant. You must eat.”
I arranged a napkin across my lap and claimed the silverware to spear a sausage link and pop it into my mouth.
Expertly seasoned venison enraptured my taste buds and ignited my hunger, making me want to abandon all pretense of civility and attack the fare.
Yet I forced myself to slowly chew and swallow my bite.
“Once you’ve finished, you must rest,” Catori announced.
“After I research.”
“Allow me to conduct the research and record anything of value. I believe your skills will prove more useful elsewhere.”
That piqued my curiosity. “What do you have in mind?”
Rather than answering, she deflected with a question of her own. “Why did you stay your hand? Why not kill the thief on sight?”
“I have questions, and the dead yield no answers.”
Catori regarded me closely. “And that is the sole reason you spared her life?”
“Not entirely.” I thought back to the captivating, freckle-faced female and struggled to articulate my hesitation. “She may have bewitched me.”
“I see.” Catori’s tone remained curious rather than critical. “Did you wound her?”
Remembering the slash I’d seen across Ziara’s arm, I summoned Silentium, examining the smudge of blood across the blade. “Yes.”
I summoned a cloth to clean the sword, but Catori drew closer, her expression contemplative as she rested a hand over mine.
“We do not waste blood, hatchling; we use it.”
“You have an idea,” I noted.
“Finish eating. Then we shall visit the centaurs and use this to track down answers about your thief.”
Not an idea; a plan. And judging by the cunning glint in her eyes, a devious one at that. Intrigued, I hurriedly finished my meal.