Page 14

C racking open the heavy door, my smile breaks loose. I’d somehow forgotten how serene this library is. I’d not had time to return until now; any outside concerns swirling in the back of my mind fall away the moment I step through the threshold.

Every bookshelf is well maintained, dust free and orderly each time I return. The wood glimmers with pride of holding so many tomes. Despite having no windows, the lighting in here makes it feel warm. Sentient, even.

In all the times I’ve been here, I’ve yet to see signs of a librarian. I run my fingers along the edge of the shelf, skimming the titles as I go. Skipping my usual romance novels, I pause at what looks to be a historical section. If I want answers on how Xecelsion works and how all this came to be, I’m going to have to start with history.

A particularly tattered book catches my eye, as if thousands of Novices have been down here before me to read this very book. Sliding it from the shelf, I follow the snaking bookshelves to a back corner that houses two huge armchairs and a candle lit for reading.

I sink down into the plush seat, unsure if I’ve ever felt something so luxurious. Sliding my gaze to the candle, I wonder what kind of summoning power is used to keep it safely lit, even with no one here.

Flipping open the book, I allow myself to get comfortable. The language is old, and there are many terms I don’t recognize. Skimming the words, the only part that makes sense is that Rathian comes from a long line of cutthroat rulers. The rest of it I struggle to piece together. I trace the map of the Human and Fae Realm with my index finger, wishing I could take my own copy.

After what feels like hours, I stand and make my way to replace the book back to its rightful place. I peruse the rest of the titles and make a mental note to check the next shelf over tomorrow.

I shut the door behind me with a click of the lock. I’m immediately met with voices in the hall that runs perpendicular to the one leading to the library. A familiar voice makes me pause and recede to the shadows in the corner.

“They are pressuring our borders, it’s likely we won’t hold much off longer.” A male’s voice I don’t recognize, likely an officer.

“They’re not ready; no one is ready.” Tension snakes over my body at that tone. Lamond.

As heavy footsteps approach, I flatten myself against the jagged stone wall, but I can see their shadows dancing on the floor from the floating lantern light as they approach.

“Well, we don’t have much of a choice. The attack Ridge warded off is one of many on our horizons.” The first man’s inflection becomes harsher with every word. “Ridge will soon tire of defending the Ravels on his own, Lamond.”

The men stop walking just before the library hallway. My heart races, a quick and steady thump in my ears.

“What are you suggesting?” Lamond asks with eerie calm.

“That you compromised the mission because you grew impatient. Ten years have gone by, you think it was easy for me to sit back and do nothing all this time?” The man’s voice remains even, but anger laces his words. “And do you really think this surge of attacks is coincidental? We’re paying the price because you selfishly coerced her.”

“She’s adjusting.” Lamond’s voice sounds defensive. “There was an uptick in attacks well before she came; you know it’s for the best that she’s here. She’s much safer as part of the Ravels than she would be in Torrent.”

“If something happens to her, I’ll ensure your demise is very slow, Lamond.” The man strides off, leaving Lamond in the hall .

How are you honest to gods in danger again? Artemis mutters, disappointment evident in her tone.

Making myself as small as possible in the corner, I roll my eyes. I’m not in danger per se, I’m in a compromising position.

Shout when things get interesting, she purrs down the tether, and despite the situation, I choke on a laugh.

From this spot, I can see Lamond still standing in the hall, as if he’s deciding what to do next. If he turns this way, I’ll be spotted instantly. I shouldn’t have opted for a cream-colored tunic today.

The door to the library cracks open and I barely contain my yelp at the abrupt movement. I hold my breath and lean back, folding further into the corner. My mouth goes dry as Ridge strolls from the room, closing the door behind him without even a glance my way.

He stops at the hall, looking at Lamond. “Are you loitering for any particular reason?”

I can tell from the shadows that Lamond straightened in Ridge’s presence. “Just making my way back up. Spending time in the library?”

“I am. You should get going.” Ridge’s voice is firm, no room for arguing.

Lamond murmurs something I can’t hear, followed by retreating footsteps. Quieting my breath, Ridge remains at the intersection of the corridor for a moment.

Of course now Ridge is loitering.

Turning to face the wooden doors, he rubs a hand over the stubble on his jaw. “Why are you in the corner, Aledrya?” His deep, rolling voice sends goosebumps all over my body.

“How did you know I was here?” My voice comes out as a croak, wincing at my position. I unfurl my body, moving from the dark crevice. In this narrow hallway, Ridge is more than intimidating. He takes up most of the hall, his six-three frame is mere inches from the lowered ceiling in this forgotten passage.

He regards me for a moment, arching an eyebrow. “If you recall Lamond’s comment, I am nearly a hundred years old . I did not make it this long without knowing if someone was lurking in a dark corner.” His gaze takes in my shirt, his nose wrinkling. “You aren’t dressed appropriately for spying, anyhow. Why are you wearing white?”

“I thought I’d have more time to change after I ransacked the library,” I heave out, breathless for absolutely no reason. “Why did you send Lamond away?”

He sighs, motioning to follow him into the hall. I do, and once I match his stride, he finally responds. “Most people don’t hide in dark corners to be found.”

“Well, no.” I keep my gaze forward, despite desperately wanting to see more of his devastating features. Something clicks in my brain. “Were you in the library at the same time I was?”

“Such inane questions from such a clever female.”

I don’t allow myself to get distracted by the slight plaudit he offered. “You didn’t say anything.”

He never looks my way, as if he can’t feel my gaze on his cheek. “Some people have different versions of dark corners, Aledrya.”

His words give me pause, but I decide not to press on his response. “I’ve never seen you in there before.”

He stops walking, crossing his arms. “Are you keeping tabs on the library and who uses it?” He studies me for a moment, then launches back into a walk. “I know you have more questions. You can ask two. After that, no more. The constant interrogation is enough to drive me insane.”

I can see the end of the hall, so I keep my questions brief. “Library question still stands. I also want to know why you’re here,” I say somewhat breathlessly as we cross the hallway threshold into a formal gathering area.

I swear a small smile tugs on the corner of Ridge’s mouth. “To train you.”

I angle my head, but realize the words on the tip of my tongue are a question. Instead, I press my lips together and offer a curt nod.

“I seldom stay within the Ravels Caves, so I’m not in the library as often as I’d like to be.” He shrugs, glancing around the space. I start to respond, but he holds up a finger; I blink at him in shock. He narrows his eyes, leaning in so he’s level with my ear. “And I was in the library is because it’s my fucking library. ”

His voice is guttural, and my body has a very visceral response to it. I turn my head to face him, the gravitational pull almost impossible to ignore when he’s this close.

“Good to know.” I notice a faint scar running down the side of his face, toward his ear. Another question for another day.

We stare at one another for a moment, before he finally straightens. I take it as my cue to head for the training hall.

“Oh, and Aledrya,” Ridge drawls as I turn away. He cocks his head, flashing those perfectly white teeth at me. Those canines look like they could draw blood. “Five sharp tomorrow morning.”

“Five sharp for what ?”

He takes a few slow steps backwards in the direction we came from, shrugging as he slides his hands into his pockets. “Training.” His smile turns smug as he dispatches; gone before I can propose any other time of day.

Making my way into the training hall, I spy Deah and Lotog in the corner sparring. A few other Novices are practicing, but none of them seem to notice my presence. I don’t bother with grace as I slump to the floor, starting to stretch.

Deah calls it with Lotog, coming to the edge of the mat. “Something wrong?”

Lotog jogs off the mat to retrieve his waterskin, then slides to the floor beside me. He elbows me gently. “No offense, but the whole forlorn look does not suit you.”

“You are quite a charmer.” I reach over, playfully shoving him.

Deah clears her throat, and I snap my attention back to her. “Nothing is wrong, just nerves.” I lean further over my outstretched leg, deepening the pull along my thigh. “I found out I’m training with Ridge.”

She cocks her head in interest as she finds a spot to sit on the edge of the raised cream mat. From across the training room, I spy Ingrid engaged in combat with a larger Novice. “Well, that sounds interesting indeed.” Deah grins, leaning back on her hands .

Lotog snorts. “There are countless women who would murder you to be trained by Ridge. Alone time and getting to put your hands on him? Better watch out for any scorned females.”

Ridge’s perfect face flashes into my mind. “I can’t tell if I should take you seriously or not,” I say slowly, eyeing Lotog.

“Ignore him. Come spar with me.” A voice comes from the other side of the mat. I turn and find Ingrid watching me with her hands on her hips, an expectant look on her face. “You can’t keep training with the same three people and expect improvements.”

Deah tips her head. “She’s right, actually. You should practice a few maneuvers with her.”

Her invitation feels genuine, so I push myself off the floor, following Ingrid across the training room to the mat she’d been sparring on. She pulls on focus pads, holding them up. “You seem like you need to hit shit. So, let’s work that out of your system first, eh?”

Taking up my fighting stance, I adjust my gloves before landing a few punches on the pads Ingrid is holding up. Tension is leaving my shoulders with each one.

“Why are you helping me?” I keep my voice even, hoping my question doesn’t come out as defensive.

She looks at me as if I’ve hurt her feelings. “I thought we’d become something like friends. You’ve avoided me the last few weeks.” She sucks on her teeth. “Why?”

“I didn’t mean to avoid you, Ingrid.”

“Weird timing that you haven’t talked to me, then.”

I’m flustered by my inability to form a response. I push the loose strands of hair away from my face, blowing out a breath. “You didn’t do anything wrong, and we are friends. I’ve been in a bit of an impasse with learning my powers lately. I apologize if it seemed like I was avoiding you.” The words tumble out, some of the weight with it.

Ingrid stares at me for a long moment. Finally, she rolls her head side to side, dropping the pads to the mat. She brings her hands out in front of me and rips her arms down. Before I can react, we’re standing on a red sand beach, turquoise water lapping at the shore quietly.

“Did you dispatch us somewhere?”

Ingrid stares out over the water. “No, I don’t have power the same way you do. This is why Emmy called me a witch.” She frowns at the memory. “I put you in a trance to believe you’re at a beach on the other side of the continent. Your body is very much still in the training room.”

I can smell the salty air and feel the warm, humid breeze on my face. “This is incredible, Ingrid.” I look at my hands, turning them over. If she hadn’t told me this was a spell, I’d have believed I was on this beach.

She exhales through her nose. “It’s nothing, that’s my problem. So far, all I’m capable of without a spellbook is sending people to this beach or turning them into insects. Or drying my clothes.”

“All of those are useful,” I tell her, turning to face her instead of the waves.

She peels her eyes off the waves, focusing on me. “All we can do is try to continue and master our power or spells, right?” I nod in agreement without thinking twice. “Right. Because we’re Novices. We are here to train. To practice. Just like on the mat, which you’ve improved immensely, by the way.”

I nod my acceptance of what she’s trying to show me. “Thank you for showing me this.” I glance back out at the shimmering waters. “Do you know where this is?”

I watch her tense and turn slowly behind us. I follow her line of sight, looking up at a beautiful and ornate mansion; crafted from adobo, the white walls of it are pristine despite the red sand whipping around it in the wind. A bustling city lies past the manor, teeming with noise and life.

“My home,” she whispers quietly to the wind. “What it used to be, anyway. I can only spell to show how I best remember it, not how it looks now.” As quickly as she cast it, she drops the spell and I’m back on the mat.

The others are still sparring as if nothing happened. Without a word, I raise my brows at Ingrid in question .

She chews on her bottom lip. “The King of Torrent ransacked it. He murdered my entire family to make a point to Xecelsion for standing against him.” Tears form in the corners of her eyes, and she wipes at it with the back of her hand. “My father was a lord over a province that was assisting Xecelsion in helping the Fae get out of the Human Realm.”

My stomach bottoms out. I’m at an utter loss for words. “I am so sorry, Ingrid.”

Her eyes flicker to mine, blinking away the remaining tears. “He won’t get away with it. That’s why I’m here. My family deserves more than the end they faced.”

Ingrid and I have more in common than I’d realized. She’s prickly. A little rough around the edges.

The others may not have gotten to know her, but I see who she really is. Someone searching for camaraderie; hopeful for just one person who won’t shy away from a barbed exterior meant to be a means of protection.

Time with Ingrid has shown me that she’s as lost and afraid as I am. Sometimes, all we need is someone who keeps showing up, even when the other person wavers.

A wildfire emerges from the smallest of sparks.

I pull off the gloves still on my hands, gesturing for her to take them. “Your turn to hit shit,” I tell her with a small smile.

She takes stock of my outreached hand before taking the gloves from me. “Thank gods.”