CHAPTER X #8
I bring the book back to its cover and hastily turn through the pages once again, hoping that this time, by some magic I know rests within, the text will somehow appear.
My gaze grows frantic along each page, not understanding why they’d be blank and hating myself for following a gut feeling that was founded in no logic.
I become angry of each turn of no text, my heart continuing its wild beat as my brows furrow so severely that I think I might cry.
“Why are you blank!” I yell.
My shaking fingers start from the cover again and skim over every single page.
I almost rip through the spine in my furor when I reach the end of the book, every part of me wanting to break the stupid thing as hard as it’s breaking me down right now.
I clench my fists and flip through the pages again, reaching the end in another cry of desperation.
But just as I’m about to close it and throw it down the deepest pit of the library, the hint of black ink begins to form on the last page.
What in the Old World?
The ink is so barely visible that I nearly don’t catch it, but I hold onto that page like my life depends on it. I watch as a paragraph of sorts begins to form, the text appearing as it would on an oak slab…
Born of greed and desperation, through no fault of their own,
Settled into the Old World, forgotten and alone.
Protected by fire, deceived by water, harbored at times by earth,
Air awaits their long-lost abilities in hopes of a new rebirth.
The Ancients sleep while the world collides, but one hero lover remembers to provide. She who is touched by the Bird of Ash will see them all reborn,
The consequences of which, however, are yet to be learned.
My body visibly goes into tremors as I read this, but I stay seated on the ice and glance over the text again, committing the words to memory. I read them again for another safe keeping and then scowl at the text, hating the way it’s resting on the page as if it were there all along.
This book, if I can even call it that, has all the words given to me by King Zander, yet it’s not even a book in the most common sense.
I can bring it back to him and present this one page, but how will I explain the rest of the blank pages that surround it?
My very being knows without a doubt that this is what he’s looking for, but I can’t even fathom the conversation to come.
Zander is looking for a book of deep knowledge, while I’m going to present him with less than half a page of text.
Save that problem for another day.
I sigh and read the text one more time, finally closing it in my lap.
The relief I feel is euphoric, and despite my worries about what I’ll say to King Zander, all the tension in my body leaves in a large exhale.
The air from my breath turns into another thick cloud of white, this time making me smile for no reason at all.
My full body is still rocking in violent shakes from the cold but I have no qualms with it now.
I’m holding onto the book that’s taken me nearly two years to find, and with that knowledge comes another large grin as I look up to the sky.
For the first time since entering this library, I’m enjoying the strong and cold breeze that whips across my face.
My search is fulfilled.
I get comfy on the ice below me and greet the frosted room as a new friend. I will forever be grateful to this place, this thirty-second height, and as I take another satisfied breath, I look back down at the book in my hands in pure affection. It’s time to take it home to my King.
But the black feathers that originally graced the cover are now gone, prompting me to swiftly move up to my knees in hasty confusion.
The action is a stupid one as I forget the glazed ice below me again and feel my knees slip out from under me.
My forearms take the brunt of the fall before my face hits the side of my wrist. I groan in pain, my body completely bruised, and curse at my clumsiness as I find the strength to get back up.
It takes everything in my exhausted body to lift into another seated position, my mind still racing in panic at the sudden change in the book. I situate my knees more firmly below me and rest my ass on my bended boots, looking back down at the black cover that is now without feathers.
The book heaves another steady breath to the sky above, the full of it moving up against my fingers and back down. And then… very slowly, I watch as the edges start to crumble into themselves, the book falling into soft specks of grey without a single spark of fire to light its corners.
“What!” I scream, moving to sit up taller on my knees.
My hands falter with the book, not knowing what to do.
“No!”
The book slowly starts its disintegration from the edges and corners, moving inwards on itself as ash starts to rain down to the ground.
“No, stop! Stop! No, no, please stop!”
I’m frantic, nearly hysteric, watching as the cover and top pages all turn to ash in my hands.
Half of the book is now gone, consumed by an invisible fire that continues raging to the remaining sheets.
I try to stop the disintegration but the ash just falls through my fingers, each speck dropping into my palms with a warmth I have no right to feel.
“No!” I scream again, “please…”
My eyes jut back and forth across the book as it grows smaller with every moment. I cup my hands together and try to catch the remnants of the pages, but all I get is a pile of soft grey ash sitting pathetically in my palms.
“Stop!” I begin sobbing, feeling the tears fall cold down my freezing face. I yell to the room in anger, realizing then that everything King Zander told the Council was true.
“This can’t be!”
My heart is trying to push out of my chest, unwilling to accept that the book is indeed turning to ash at the touch. What did I do wrong? How am I going to explain this?
“Come back,” I hunch over, “please!”
Cool tears drip down my cheeks in steady streams. My full body continues to shake from the cold and from the anger… from the utter disbelief of what is going on around me.
I have nothing! Nothing to present Zander with. After everything he’s done for me, everything he’s provided and the life he’s afforded me. All of it is for nothing if I can’t even provide the one thing he needs from me!
The feeling of immense disappointment and guilt starts to creep in.
I drop my arms to my thighs and sob so hard that my chest begins to ache.
The pile of ash remains in my hands but I can’t even look at it, or maybe it’s just the fact that I can barely keep my eyes open.
Tears are pouring out in droves, every sob racking my soul to its core.
The room around me seems to darken, as if it’s matching the heavy onslaught of emotions I’m now feeling.
Even the sky starts to rumble from above, a tremble to match my own.
I finally lift my puffy gaze to see the once clear blue sky now turning a deep grey.
Another rumble, one that vibrates deep in my bones, and small flecks begin to fall from the dark sky above.
Those tiny specs make their way into the ice covered room through the opening above, the air around me turning completely still as the flecks continue to fall.
This must be falling snow, I continue sobbing, watching the grey beauty float gracefully down from the sky. This has to be what Keane wanted me to see.
My hands begin to heat in my lap, a cozy feeling that I’m more than grateful for. I look down at them in sad curiosity and spot a decent-sized red ember now resting in the middle, the stone growing ever so slightly as it consumes the ash around it.
I’m hallucinating.
Fuck me, I’m hallucinating.
I have the sudden urge to slap my face but I don’t want to risk losing whatever this is in my hands.
I shake my head desperately and try to dry my tears on my shoulder, still holding what remains of the ash and the growing ember that’s now the size of an egg.
I watch in disbelief as the ember heaves itself towards me, then drops back down into my palms, breathing again.
A small crack slams across that ember egg just as the same sound permeates the sky above.
The crack leaves a thick black mark jutting across the red glow, its line twisting and contorting right down the middle.
Another crack, this time louder with the sky above, and the ember is graced with a second black streak against it that moves over the first. I sit transfixed, unable to process or understand what is going on, as a final crack slashes across the ember so violently that the sound moves the sky with a streak of vibrant silver light.
I’ve gone mad.
I tear my eyes away from the ember and look up to the darkness above.
There’s a visible streak in the sky that has a hue of grey and silver, the slashes matching those of the ember egg in my hand.
I look back down at my palms and watch in utter amazement as a small tuft of black feathers pushes through those cracks.
My breath catches in my chest, gasping as two beady yellow eyes push their way forward and look directly at me.
Dear Ancients, I really am hallucinating.
The feathers belong to a small but formidable looking black bird that is now pushing a wing through the ember, its yellow eyes never once leaving mine.
It pushes its other wing out from the red egg while its black beak pulls at the ember shell in front of its chest, opening the crack wider.
The bird leans forward with strength, proudly pushing against what remains of the egg and bursting through with newborn power.
Small streaks of grey and silver dart across it’s black torso as it pushes up again, slowly rising on both talons.
Ancients, those talons are sharp.
They pinch the skin of my palms before the bird shakes its leg, getting used to its footing. I stare in silent amazement, just watching it all unfold, and when the babe makes to stand up on his own, he looks at me and extends his wings with even more pride.
I don’t know how I know, but he is magnificent.
So proud in his posture that I can’t stop staring back at him in trembling awe.
The creature can’t be larger in body than the size of an apple, but with his wings outstretched he extends just nearly across my shoulders.
His yellow eyes are sharp and piercing, gaze still not leaving mine, and while the two of us stare back at eachother, something large and loud crashes into the room.
Morose is panting at the top of the stairs and looking at me in wild concern.
The crash came from the books she was holding that have now hit the ground, Golem stopping in his own run up the stairs to stand at her side.
She continues to stare at me until she notices the bird cupped in my hands, her eyes widening on the creature in pure wonder and fervor.
I give her a tired smile and let my gaze fall back to the bird again, greeting his sharp yellow eyes as he stretches his wings once more.
He shakes his rear in my palms, revealing a beautiful and long tail of black feathers below him that makes me laugh in astonishment.
Truly, I’ve never met a more proud being.
“You’re gorgeous,” I smile.
The bird tilts its head just as my eyes begin to droop.
The full weight of everything is now catching up to me, and I find myself unable to stay awake as my body goes into shock.
The bird gives me a small chirp when my eyes close completely, all the exhaustion finally taking over as I start to fall to the ground without restraint.
“Go get the Prince!”
Morose’s voice is frantic, but I can’t focus on it because I’m now hitting the ground for a third time today.
The slam of my head on ice sends a roaring pain down my spine, and the last thing I remember before being consumed by darkness is the feel of the baby bird moving next to me.
His sharp talons grip my shoulder as the softest feathers I’ve ever experienced curl up against my ear.
He leans into the skin of my neck with a chirp of genuine comfort, the sound sending me straight into darkness.