25. The Moon
Chapter 25
The Moon
N othing. An entire week of reading every tome and text we could find, and we’d found absolutely nothing. It seemed like every trace of demons had been wiped not only from the physical realm but its history as well.
We were silent after that apart from the occasional self-muttering or brief mumbled conversation about passing someone another book. Sitting in the library surrounded by the others, as beautiful as the room was, made me feel like a prisoner inside my own skin.
And why was it that libraries always felt stuffier than other rooms? Would fresh air or a cross breeze have some kind of adverse effect on the books? Or maybe it was by design. Maybe they just wanted to see us sweat while we studied as a training tactic for performing under pressure. If so, it was working.
“I hate that vindictive fae.” Briar slammed a stack of books down on the table and forcefully pulled out the chair beside me to take a seat.
I continued flipping through the pages of the book in front of me. Best not to give her a reason to redirect her wrath toward me.
“I assume you’re talking about Professor Richards again,” Isaac, apparently a male far less wise than me asked. He closed his book and reached for another before adding, “I don’t know why you let him bother you so much. He’s not worth the emotional toll.”
Definitely not looking up from my book now. The last couple weeks had proven Briar to be a calm, collected leader, even in the face of adversity, but if something sent her over the edge? I swear sometimes it looked like fire was half a second from pouring from her eyes and burning whoever wronged her alive.
Truthfully, I found it enchanting. Murderous rage looked lovely on her as long as it wasn’t directed at me.
“I don’t know, Isaac,” she said, throwing her hands in the air and smacking them on the table. One of the librarians peeked around the corner to shush us but retreated when she saw who sat at the table. Smart woman. “Maybe I just take issue with someone waging injustice on the masses. Ever considered that? I don’t know how he’s still teaching here.”
“He’s supposedly brilliant,” Isaac supplied, “A prodigy, or so they say. He published some discoveries on an ancient treaty that changed the fate of the Hidden Realm or something like that. That was well over half a century ago so I don’t know why it matters, but apparently, it does. My father hated him when he attended here.”
Mine had too.
“You mean the one that makes him act like the Solar Court is oh so superior?” she asked. I took the opportunity to admire the column of her throat when she threw her head back to glare at the ceiling, “Thank the moon and stars we’re in the Lunar court. I think I’d lose my mind if I was subjected to more people like him every day.”
I nodded and turned to yet another page of text that told me nothing about what I needed to know. The problem with scrubbing an entire realm from history was sabotaging yourself from being prepared when they eventually return. Nothing stays buried–or banished in this case– forever.
“What’d he do this time?” Isaac asked, “And where is Naomi? Please tell me we’re not going to have to break into the classroom to free her from whatever spell he cast again.”
“Not today.” Briar paused. “At least, not that I know of. She was still mobile when I left her. No, today he sewed half the class’ mouth shut for speaking before the class had even started. We had to watch them claw at their lips shrieking until the twine was finished weaving through their skin. They felt every second of it.”
“He’s sadistic,” Isaac said solemnly, “Inflicting injuries is more than a step too far.”
“He shouldn’t be allowed in society let alone in the school! If he were a shifter I would’ve challenged him by now and used his corpse as target practice.”
The crack of metal splitting wood was deafening as she slammed the point of the dagger I hadn’t seen her unsheathe into the table. Her chest rose and fell with every breath as that murderous glint I loved started to appear in her eyes.
“I’m just going to go ahead and take this for now.” Isaac slowly reached over to grab the blade by its hilt and pull it free.
I unsheathed my blade and held it out to her as the snow leopard looked at me in betrayal. I simply shrugged as Briar took it and began to roll it between her fingers without comment. If she wanted to eliminate the fae, I’d happily assist her or stand back and watch as she dismembered him.
“Are you getting stabby without me?” Kenna half-walked, half-danced from between two rows of books. A blood encrusted arrow had been snapped in half and stabbed through the two buns atop either side of her head. I wanted to be surprised. I wasn’t. “I’d be offended if I weren’t so intrigued. Who are we hurting?”
“No one,” Isaac said emphatically.
“Professor Richards,” Briar supplied.
“Really?” Kenna asked gleefully, “I’ve been wanting to end him for years. I know a place where we can dispose of the body. If we go now we’ll still have time to dig the hole before nightfall.”
“No!” Isaac said again, “No bodies, no disposing, no holes.”
He directed his gaze at me and gestured to the plotting females. like he expected me to intervene. I shrugged instead. I was team hole.
“You take all the joy out of life Isaac,” Kenna pursed her lips and looked around the table.
“He’s been ruining my fun for years.” Briar tilted her head to one side and said, “Nice accessories. Is that a hint of demon blood I smell?”
“I told you I’d find a use for them!” Kenna beamed. “Thank you for noticing.”
Isaac stared at her in horror but quickly returned his gaze to the book in front of him when she turned her smile his way.
“We still haven’t found anything, huh?” She asked with a heavy sigh.
“Nope.” Briar gave me back my dagger, grabbed a book from the top of her stack, and started reading. Pity. It looked far better spinning in her hand than mine.
“Another day of trying not to sneeze from the dust amongst the pages of texts written by ancient people it is then. I don’t even want to think about how many dead skin bits we’ve probably all inhaled.”
Lovely.
Rather than getting up to find her own book, she turned her attention to mine.
“Oh look, a book, ready and available for me to scour sitting within my reach.” She reached over me to grab the book I’d already gotten halfway through searching, “I’ll go ahead and relieve you of this one. You must be tired of it by now.”
I swatted her hand away, earning a gasp of indignation and a muttered, “Rude.”
I grabbed the largest book from Isaac’s stack across from me and tossed it down in front of her. The librarian, again, came around the corner ready to shush whoever caused such a ruckus and blanched when I lifted a brow in her direction.
“Ugh.” Kenna flipped open the cover before propping her head up by her elbow on the table to begin flipping through the pages. “Of course, you have to give me the worst one.”
“Don’t worry, Ken,” Briar said, placatingly reaching across me to pat her hand, and some of the tension left my shoulders at the familiar citrus and sage scent. “This just means you’re only inhaling the dust from one old text written by a dead person instead of two.”
Kenna paused to consider this a moment before she nodded and combed through the book more earnestly.
A hundred topics were outlined in the book I’d spent the last hour reading: necromancy, ceremonies for the spring and summer equinox, hexes, love spells, coming-of-age rituals, and yet there wasn’t a single word around demons or sacrifices to be found.
And then I saw it.
There, in the margin at the very bottom of the last page was a tiny diagram, no larger than a coin, was a hexagon encasing a broken spiral.
My breath left me as I leaned back in my chair. Before I could blink Isaac had come around to our side of the table, and Briar and Kenna drew into either side of me.
“Oh goddess, that’s it. That’s the pattern we found the bodies,” Briar whispered then pointed to each word as she read, “With death comes the rift, with fire comes rebirth, and with blood comes the reckoning.”
“What does that even mean?” Isaac asked. I didn’t know, but it sounded familiar and had goosebumps rippling across my skin.
“That’s all it says.” Kenna leaned back from the text, lips pursed together tightly.
“That’s the last page of the book? There’s no way. It can’t be.” Briar leaned over me and ran her hand along the seam of the spine, “There’s a page missing.”
My finger traced the spine of the tome she’d taken and felt the raised edges of paper—the ridges were slight, but undoubtedly there.
“Someone tore it out,” Isaac said, more to himself than to us. “Why would someone do that?”
My heart sank as Briar spoke the only rational explanation.
“Because someone at the Academy didn’t want us to find it.”