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“Well, it belonged to my grandfather. He’s the one who put the spell on the library that barred anyone but his direct bloodline from entering and stumbling across one of the pinnacles of hislife’s work, theDeeping Lune. I’ve been searching for it since I was a boy. Looked in every corner of that damned library.” His words took on a bitter edge. “TheDeeping Luneshould have come to me when I called it.”

Syrelle took a step toward her.

“Don’t come near her,” Finndryl growled, venom coating his words.

“This is my grimoire. It belongs to me,” Lore said, shaking her head.

Anger flashed in Syrelle’s eyes before his amused mask appeared again. “It is a marvel that it has bonded with you, which is something I never expected to happen. But the book isnotyours. My grandfather infused that book with his own rare form of magic.”

Syrelle smiled, and Lore’s stomach flipped at the sight of it, terror rising in her throat.

“I would know that magic anywhere. I could feel it the moment you stepped through the library doors with it, hiding it under your tunic. I can feel it, even now.”

He stepped toward her again, placing his hand out, palm up.

“It’s my birthright, but the grimoire would not share its secrets with me. I tried for years to find it and to unlock its mysteries. And then, I thought of something. If I could not make the book bow to me, then maybe my opposite can. A weak, magicless human. And I was right—in a sense, although not about you being weak. Lore, don’t you see? Now that you have awakened the magic and begun to master it, we can work together. Things don’t have to change much. You can still practice magic and become stronger, so long as you do as I bid.”

Lore wanted to faint. She wanted to forget the last few moments of her life. She wanted to scream in his face. She opened her mouth to do just that, but no sound came out.

Asher—Syrelle—had wanted her to find the book and awaken its power so that he could use it? Use her?

“No, that can’t be. You know Finndryl and Isla. They know you. AsAsher! They’ve known you foryears,” Lore said, her voice desperate. This couldn’t be true. “What about you being conscripted into service? Or about your life as a grounder?” She waved toward his wings, which spread out behind him, a physical embodiment of all his lies.

“Yes. Since I was a child, I’ve had the ability to change my form. I often changed my appearance to that of a grounder. Only a few know that ‘Asher,’ the lowborn guard, is not real.” The imposter frowned. “Sometimes being a noble can be tiresome.” He took another step toward her, his gait filled with the same movement as Asher’s smooth confidence. His steps made no sound when he walked. “I met Isla years ago on one such respite. Unlike her brother, I quite enjoy her company.”

Finndryl made a sound behind her. Disbelief. Rage.

“What about the steward? Why would you just let the humans go? Why did you let us kill him?”

“What do I care about the humans? The steward was doing the dark bidding of the king and queen. They are obsessed with the idea that our race is dying out, but I know that with life comesSource, and withSourcecomes life. Once the book has been awakened and is settled back in our land, this blight will end.”

Lore felt bile filling her throat. She was going to be sick.

She turned to run, but before she could, the world stopped. Some invisible force was holding her still. Everything, even her curls, stood stuck as if time itself had frozen. She couldn’t move a muscle, not even to draw in breath.

She was suffocating, both because of a lack of air and under the weight of Asher’s lies.

Terror shot through her. Was this how she died? Had she led Finn, too, to his death?

“Oh, no you don’t. The book stays here. And you, Lore, stayhere. And, you know, I think I’ll keep Finn, too. He might come in handy soon, to keep you in line.”

Syrelle took the final steps across the garden until he was right in her face.

“The book has bonded with you. A human.”

Distaste coated his words, and it was that, more than anything, that broke her. Asher, the sweet fae who had fought for her and bled for her, thought that she was unworthy because of her humanity.

“But, since you’ve bonded withDeeping Lune, that means you will hear the call of its sister book. You will lead me to it, Lore. We will be as we always have been. Together. A team.” He reached for her and touched her fingers where they were stained black with ink.

Yesterday, he had performed the same action, and Lore had felt warmth and love.

Now she wanted to flinch away from him. To never let him touch her again.

But she couldn’t move.

The edges of Lore’s vision were turning black from the lack of air. Soundless, she tried to beg Syrelle to release her. To let her move. To let her breathe.

Behind her, she could hear Finndryl struggling to fight free from Syrelle’s hold.

Asher should not have this power. Asher had the power of green, growing things, of life and earth. Asher could not do this.

But this was not Asher. This was Syrelle.

Just before she lost all consciousness, she heard Syrelle croon, “Sleep, for now. Tomorrow, we sail in search ofAuroradel, the Book of Sunbeams.”

TO BE CONTINUED