Page 31

I actually managed to laugh at that. It had to be a joke. “A human? Find sanctuary in the Vampire Kingdom?”

“It’s not so uncommon,” he said mildly.

“Becauseyour kinduse us as chattel,” I snapped. “Just a food source for any hungry vampire to drink from.”

“You wouldn’t be. If you came with me, I’d see to that.”

“And what power do you have to promise that?” I demanded. Whoever Raphael was in the vampire world, he was expendable if he’d been sent into the heart of the Witch Kingdom alone. Especially given the way he’d risked his life on his quest. I forced myself to dismiss the offer before it took root in me, like a weed. I belonged among my own kind, at the Monastery.

Raphael didn’t answer, didn’t say a word arguing that I was wrong.

“It’s for the best.” I wasn’t sure why it sounded like I was trying to convince him, when it was the obvious truth.

My gaze tipped to the Monastery of Apante. From the market, I could see the bright white tower. It stood out in stark relief from the other colorful buildings that adorned the city.

It was the only place in the kingdom where a void could hold even a small measure of power.

Without power, you were nothing.

As predicted, Prince Marcel left the next morning. Raphael and I watched from the shade of the forest outside the city where we’d camped. Every inn seemed to be filled with visitors who had anticipated the prince’s arrival and wanted to get a glimpse of him, and the last thing I wanted was to find the one single room available and share it with Raphael.

That morning, three dozen horses and three golden stagecoaches exited the city gates. Once the echoes of their footsteps faded, we returned to the city. I placed my request with the administrators of the Great Library and returned in the evening for my appointment.

The sun was setting by the time we returned. A line wrapped around the building, promising a long wait despite any appointment.

“Will you tell me your question now?” I asked as we trudged slowly along. Apparently, having an appointment was just the first step in seeing the Librarians. “Or do you plan to get through the wards and ask for yourself?”

The ancient wards that guarded the Great Library wouldn’t be fooled by a little disguise magic. It would’ve been nice if the Librarians shared whatever ancient magic let them bespell the building to block vampires fromentering with the rest of Eurobis. Perhaps the knowledge of how had been lost with the oracles.

Raphael sighed, as if having to rely on a human was such a heavy burden. Then he bent his towering frame down and whispered his question in my ear: “You’re going to ask precisely how one can gain possession of the Black Grimoire as soon as reasonably possible.”

His hot breath grazed the side of my face, and I blinked, barely able to process. I jerked back, desperate for some distance between us. “That’s your question? What does it even mean? The Black Grimoire doesn’t exist.”

The Black Grimoire was nothing but a myth. It wasn’t even a common myth, so I remembered nothing but the barest facts: the book existed and could only be used by aspecialkind of witch not seen in ages. That alone was enough to discount a tale—no witch had claim to an entire branch of magic. Grimoires, books of magic, did exist, and were often passed between bloodlines of powerful witches. Unlike cards, the magic in them couldn’t be used by voids, and was more instructional than transactional.

What would possess a vampire to ask about a fairy tale?

“The phrasing is critical,” Raphael said, ignoring my question. “If you don’t ask for precise terms, they will respond with useless ambiguity. If you forget to give a time frame, the answer will be equally useless. Do you understand?”

“I’m not an idiot,” I groused. I committed the nonsensical question to memory.

“I didn’t say you were,” he said smoothly, not moving out of my space in the slightest.

“But I want to knowwhy.” Why I was wasting my one allotted question on a myth.

But Raphael would say no more. He left my side once we moved a few more paces forward, no doubt lurking in the shadows, to avoid tripping any vampire sensors. It was half an hour more before I was finally to the front of the line. An extra five minutes, because the balding man in front of me wouldn’t stop complaining. Apparently, he didn’t appreciate the answer he’d gotten and was demanding another audience.

“Sir, you do not have an appointment.” The hooded Librarian who stood at the entrance was half as tall and half as thin as the portly figure. Her voice was gentle, like a spring breeze. Her uniform was a bright sky blue, a thin chain of links clasping the shoulders together.

“I don’t need one! I told you, girl, I was here the other day, and the Librarian was wrong.”

“The Librarians are not wrong.” A bold claim, but delivered without an ounce of ego. Like it was simply a fact—witches had magic, Eurobis had three moons, and the Librarians had all the answers.

Frustrated, the man made a critical mistake. Since arguing wasn’t getting him what he wanted, he tried to force his way past. He threw a hand on the girl’s shoulder and pushed. I braced for the Librarian to stumble back. She couldn’t match his physical strength. Instead, it was theman who bounced back as if repelled by an invisible force field.

“Sylvester Norag, you are not welcome in the Great Library.” Her voice thickened—no, that wasn’t the right word. It was more like several voices spoke at once, some higher pitched, some lower. The hair on the back of my neck tingled.

She lifted an arm in front of her, a single card lifted between her fingers.