Chapter 10
Dinner with Demons
The evening found Elizabeth strolling about the castle in search of the library.
After taking a few wrong turns, she eventually found the familiar looking doors and pushed them open to reveal the enormous library with high vaulted ceilings.
It was infinitely larger than the small library in her father’s study, and it might even be larger than the queen’s library in the palace.
She wandered through aisles and aisles of books, her footsteps echoing across the polished black marble floor.
The library was made up of two floors, softly lit by torches that flickered in the sconces along the walls. It looked inviting, with squashy leather armchairs and tall windows.
She had never seen so many books in one place. She craned her neck to peer at titles on the high shelves, most written by authors she had never even heard of.
Feeling a bit like she was snooping, she ran a finger over the spines, and her brows pinched together. A good chunk of the books here were on demonic summoning and witchcraft.
Caspian seemed to collect many copies of the same books. He had about twenty copies of Demonic Summoning and at least fifty copies of Summoning High-Level Demons.
Why did he have so many copies of the same books? And wasn’t he a demon and probably well aware of how summoning and magic worked in his world?
She continued to wander, finding a shelf filled with books written in a different language.
The curling script with accents above the letters was not one she had ever seen before.
Perhaps these books were of a different age, or of a different world entirely.
She ran her fingers over the tomes, wondering what the strange words meant and what the language was called.
Drawn to an ancient book bound in aged black leather, she slid it from the shelf. The cover of the book bore no title, and instead was dominated by a strange symbol.
She opened the book curiously and looked at the odd, curling script.
The light dimmed slightly, as if the torches in the brackets burned lower, and she eyed the window, wondering if it was letting in a draft.
She bent to admire the lines of elegant calligraphy and skimmed a few pages, wondering how the words might be pronounced. The strange language consisted of consonants that looked like it might sound harsh and guttural when spoken.
Was this a demon language?
She rifled through a few more pages, mesmerized by the strange lettering. To her perplexion, a handful of pages in the middle of the book were missing, as if they’d been ripped away in a hurry. She propped the book open and ran her thumb along the roughness of the torn pages.
She peered at the page before, and after the gap, but couldn’t make heads or tails of what she was supposed to be reading.
As she flipped through the rest of the pages, the light in the library flickered, and suddenly went out.
Elizabeth glanced up in surprise, closing the book with a snap. Could something have happened just by just opening this book? Not daring to breathe, she slowly opened it again. A wisp of darkness lazily drifted out, like steam curling over a hot mug of tea.
Swallowing her gasp, she slammed the book shut and slid it back onto the shelf.
She looked around, her palms suddenly sweaty.
Even the drapes had somehow been shut.
Flustered, she expelled a breath. It was likely Asmodeus or one of the other demons in the castle, playing a trick on her.
At least, she hoped.
Warily, she threw open the drapes and took a lit torch from a bracket in the hallway outside and relit all the torches in the library, and soon all looked as it had before.
Giving the entire aisle a wide berth, she returned to the section of the library written in Common. She was delighted to discover many books in both fiction and non-fiction. A treasure trove of new reading material, and a gift for someone trapped in a castle with nothing to do.
She passed through yet another aisle entirely devoted to books on witchcraft and cringed.
What would her mother do if she saw her here, like this? Up to her elbows in books on magic and demonic rituals. Illegal, all of it. Even being here in this library could win her a one-way trip to the dungeons.
Her eyes lit on a set of history books, the kind that the late king, Queen Rowena’s father, had ordered burned.
New history books had been written, and all the old ones were destroyed before her time, removing any historical text that had ever mentioned magic.
These might be the last copies to ever exist.
“A History of Witches in Asteria,” she read aloud.
She bit her lip. Her governesses had always given her a heavily redacted version of history about how the gods had formed Asteria many ages ago, then time jumped to the events of the last century.
Whenever she had asked her governesses what had happened in between, she had been told not to ask too many questions.
She glanced back at the shelves. Her fingers itched to open them, eager to explore parts of their world that had long been forgotten.
Making sure she was alone, she gently slid the book from the shelf and opened it to the first page.
An Introduction to the History of Witches
Witches are not human, nor are they demons.
Witches are a product of human and demon offspring, which is in part, why they are so hunted by the Temple of the Gods.
Demonic heritage conveys the ability to have magical powers.
In current times, most witches are several generations removed from those with magical abilities, and their craft lies more in healing herbs, astrology, and rituals.
Some witches of the current age retain the ability to cast spells, but many have lost nearly all magical ability.
Magic can take a variety of forms and usually requires an incantation, or herbs and rituals, to cast a spell.
When King Benjamin the Fourth outlawed magic…
She closed the book. She knew the rest and didn’t need to see the grisly illustrations of poor women being burned at the stake for the suspicion of being a witch.
Her father would never have let her or her mother be caught dead with a book like this.
Back home, ladies were always encouraged to be soft spoken and demure—qualities that were the furthest thing from trickery and witchcraft.
Confidence and barely tamed wildness, like her friend Charlotte often displayed, was quite unusual.
Those traits were a testament to her friend’s bravery.
Elizabeth often envied Charlotte’s ability to roll her eyes at the court gossips and express her opinions exactly as she desired without an ounce of fear.
Not all were so brave.
Elizabeth flipped through the first few pages, gaining confidence and becoming engrossed in the book, when several pages slipped out and spilled onto the floor. Drawings of pentacles and detailed diagrams of human bodies scattered across the marble.
Flustered at the idea of being caught, she hurriedly inserted the pages back in the book and quickly returned it to the shelf.
At least no one was around.
She took a deep breath, and her shoulders relaxed.
“Interesting choice of reading material,” came a voice from behind her.
Her back tensed, and she slowly turned. Burning silver eyes met her gaze. Their intensity made her breath catch in her throat.
“You have quite the collection,” she managed. “Sorry, I was just—just curious.”
He took a step closer.
“Here’s a little tip,” he said darkly. “It awakens my hunger when your heart races like that. When you smell of cold sweat and fear.” She was alarmed to see white-knuckled fists at his sides.
“So, while you can’t control the pounding of your heart, please refrain from running away, as you’re thinking about doing right now. ”
“Why?” She cleared her throat, attempting to get back on familiar footing. “Why exactly shouldn’t I run?”
“Because, Elizabeth,” he said, his voice sounding deeper than usual. “You don’t want to know what I would do if you snapped my control, and I caught you.”
In an attempt to steer the conversation back into safe waters, she asked, “Why do you have so many copies of the same book?”
“So they can’t be used or seen by eyes that I don’t want,” he said. The tension in the air dissipated slightly. He raised an eyebrow. “You like to read?”
She nodded. “Very much.”
“Help yourself. To any books in my collection. But if you sell the secrets of books like this”—he took the book she had been reading back off the shelf and held it up—“to anyone, I will be most displeased.”
“Do you have any duties you would have of me?” She asked faintly, hoping they could come to another arrangement, one not involving the blood in her veins and putting herself at the mercy of such a creature.
“We’ve already discussed the arrangement I want most. I will come for you at the end of your week here. Whatever else you do with your time is not my concern.”
As Caspian put the book back on the shelf, she noted his sleeves were pushed up to his elbows today, and her attention snapped to the veins running across his forearm like the roots of a tree. When he turned back to her, she quickly glanced up at his face, not wanting to be caught staring.
“I will escort you to dinner.”
He strode out of the library without further word, leaving her to grab her book and hurry after him. Pushing through the library doors, she looked for the demon.
To her surprise, he was already waiting for her at the bottom of the staircase. How had he moved so fast?
She hurried down the stairs and offered what she hoped was a friendly smile.
His gaze heated, sliding up and down her frame. His eyes bored into hers, looking like he wanted nothing more than to eat her for dinner.
Flustered, she missed the last step and stumbled, throwing out her hands to regain her balance.
Ugh. Graceful.
Caspian gave her a look of derision and silently extended his elbow.
“What’s this?” she asked, eyeing his elbow suspiciously.