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14 CAIDEN

“Did Amolie get to Ruska alright?” Caiden asked as he and Roderick walked through the snowy streets. Lights twinkled above their heads, making the snow sparkle like diamonds. He loved the city at night, when everyone was tucked into their beds, fast asleep.

“She did. I had our binding bands enchanted to tell each other if we’re safe or in trouble.”

“Smart.”

“I hope they make it to the Isle of Fate.”

“I’m sure someone still knows a way to get there. The Fates are surely getting supplies,” Caiden said. “And I’m sure there are still some who worship them.”

“Probably,” Roderick said, heaving open the heavy doors of the library.

Only a few candles lit the rows of books, casting eerie glows around the ancient library. They walked on padded feet toward the restricted section, trying to keep their pulses at bay.

“Wish Lucius was here to help,” Roderick whispered. “He’d be in and out of here in no time. Wouldn’t even break a sweat.”

“Yeah, and he’d be smug about it too,” Caiden said.

Ora waited outside the restricted section where two iron gates held the sylph’s most prized possessions. On either side of the gates stood a Stone Soldier, the city’s most fierce warrior. Whatever was behind these bars was precious and dangerous to have such an elite set of warriors guarding it.

The men nodded to Ora, who bowed her head, her hood slipping back to reveal her dark hair. Caiden unfolded the letter his father signed and handed it to the soldier, who nodded.

Tapping his spear on the floor three times, the iron gates creaked open.

Caiden swallowed hard before taking a step forward. The smell of old parchment mixed with sage and myrrh wafted from beyond.

The soldier stopped him before he entered.

“Be careful. There are things inside that don’t want to be disturbed.”

Caiden nodded and proceeded forward. The gates closed behind them with an ominous thud.

“Well, I guess there’s no going back now,” Caiden said, rolling his shoulders in preparation for what awaited them.

“This way.” Ora led them down the torch-lined steps into the library’s depths.

A chill wafted up from the rock below.

“This part of the library was built before the sylph existed. It’s where the founders met long before they built the library above and where many hid during the elven occupation,” Ora said.

Magic rippled through the air, tingling Caiden’s tongue with the metallic taste of copper. Deeper and deeper, they descended into the bowels of the library. Doors marked with a language Caiden did not recognize lined the wall.

“Can you read what these say?” he asked.

“They are markers of life and death,” Roderick chimed in.

“Yes, that’s correct. Each of the original sylph families has a vault. And then others are marked by topic,” Ora said. “We want to be at the very bottom, in the room with the most wards.

“So, we can’t just grab the books and go?” Caiden asked, exchanging knowing glances with Roderick who smirked.

“Of course not. You don’t think they’d let anyone waltz in and take the original family’s books?”

“Well, kind of, yeah.”

They came to a set of doors engraved with the picture of Illya slitting her wrists for the sylph to feed from. Caiden’s stomach turned. Pulling keys from her pocket, Ora undid the lock.

Caiden arched a brow.

“Before you say anything, I swiped them from Grand Master Quail while he slept. I will return them before he wakes up.”

“Perhaps we don’t need Lucius after all,” Roderick said, elbowing Caiden in the ribs.

Caiden rolled his eyes.

Ora pushed open the heavy doors. Inside, a set of books sat behind a locked cage in the center of the room. Bookcases surrounded the cage in a circle. The ceiling reached into the heavens, and moonlight illuminated the caged books.

“Do you have a key to this?” Caiden asked Ora, who was staring in amazement at the shelves of ancient texts.

“Look at this? Look at all of this,” she exclaimed, rushing to the first shelf.

“Don’t!” Caiden cried, staying her hand before she touched anything.

“What?” She knitted her brows.

“You said wards protect this place. Anything could be a trap.”

She snapped her hand back.

“You’re right. How foolish of me. I lost myself for a moment.”

“Let’s just get the books and get out of here,” Caiden said. He carefully walked down the steps to where the cage sat, bathed in moonlight. A plaque on the front read, “ For those whose blood runs true .”

“What does that mean?” Ora asked, examining the inscription.

Caiden pulled the dagger from his back pocket.

“It means I must prove my blood is that of an original if we want to gain access to the books.” He sighed before pricking his finger. “Here goes nothing.” He pressed his thumb to the space shaped like a fingerprint.

The lock quietly unlatched.

All three let out relieved breaths.

“That was easy, Roderick said.

“Don’t speak so soon. We still have to leave here with the books, and two soldiers are standing guard outside.”

“I’ll take care of them.” Rodrick smiled coyly.

The books corresponded to each original family—seven books for seven families: Stormweavers, Sweetwords, Shadowalkers, Lightbringers, Firebreathers, Deathwards, and Greenblades. Each text carried the family’s insignia and the Zylrinth’s Weaver’s mark. These seven held the reins of the sylph long before the courts divided. As far as Caiden knew, only he and Tharan remained.

“So many lost during the war,” Roderick whispered to himself, shaking his head.

“Let us hope we do not lose anymore.” Caiden grabbed the first book and handed it to Roderick. Suspicious that this was all too easy, he looked around the room for any sort of ward, but there was nothing—no creature released or poison dart, only silence. “Ora, what protection spells are down here?”

“I am not a Grand Master. I do not know what lurks down here.”

“Then we better get out quickly.” He piled the rest of the books into Roderick’s arms. “Let’s go.”

Roderick turned to leave, but as his feet hit the stairs, a fiery ring sprung up around them. “Okay, well, this is a setback.”

“Shit,” Caiden cursed under his breath. The flames grew higher, and the three stepped back toward the cage. “Any ideas?”

“Hold these.” Roderick shifted the books to Caiden and Ora. He pulled the chain earring from his ear, and with a flick of the wrist, a whip of pure light appeared.

“Here goes nothing.” Climbing on top of the cage, he snapped his whip, looping it around one of the railings above before heaving himself over the fire and onto the other side, banging into a bookshelf and knocking countless artifacts to the ground. “It worked!” he exclaimed.

“Great, but what about us?” Caiden yelled.

“Are you not a son of the Stormlands?” Roderick yelled over the flames.

“I’m the lightning kind, not the rain kind. Ora, what is your gift?”

“I, uh, I’m not very good at it.” She wrung her hands together nervously. “That’s why I’m a scholar.”

The flames moved closer.

“Well, now would be a good time to try,” Caiden said, taking a step backward clutching the remaining books. Fear sank like a rock in his stomach.

Ora took a deep breath, and the flames died a bit.

“You’re a wind wailer?” Caiden asked.

Ora nodded sheepishly. “But I’ve never produced a gale.”

Caiden wracked his brain, trying to remember what he knew of the Court of Wailing Winds. Some had gales, some were wailers, and others were extinguishers. “Try breathing in deep like you’re sucking in smoke from a cigarette.”

“I’ve never smoked a cigarette,” she protested. Sweat glistened on her brow.

The two climbed on top of the cage. Sylph were vengeful in their retribution. They would destroy the books before they fell into the wrong hands.

“Well, you’ll have to try, or else we’ll die.”

She sucked in a deep breath, and the fire slowly began to diminish, but not enough.

“Can you blow it out?”

Her eyes said she would try. She slowly let the air out, but it did little to quell the flames. “I’m sorry, I’m not good at this.”

“It’s okay,” Caiden said, trying not to sound panicked. “Try again. Really focus on letting the air out. Let it build in your chest. That’s what I do with my lightning. I let it build in my fingertips and then release it.” The flames licked at the soles of their shoes. “No pressure.”

Closing her eyes, she sucked in another breath, magic swirled in the air. Her chest buffed, and then she let go of what Caiden could only describe as a gale-force wind, extinguishing the flames enough for them to jump through with the remainder of the books.

Roderick met them on the other side. “Give them to me. I can run faster with them.”

“Why do we need to run?” Caiden asked, not daring to turn around.

Roderick pointed to the ceiling where a swarm of angry bees loomed overhead.

“Well, I assume they’re about to dive on us.”

As soon as the words left his lips, the bees shot toward them like an arrow being released.

“Run!” Caiden yelled. They headed for the door, but their hopes of escape were quickly dashed.

“It’s locked!” Ora shouted, glancing back at the fasting approaching bees.

Caiden twisted the lightning between his fingers into the best net he could make in seconds, creating a shield. Thousands of insects buzzed as they hit the net and fell to their deaths.

“Hold these,” Roderick said, handing the books to Ora, who could barely carry them. With a kick, he knocked one of the doors off its hinges. “Go!” he yelled at Ora, who handed off the books and ran up the stairs.

“I can’t hold them much longer. Go, Roderick. I’ll follow behind.”

Roderick nodded and followed Ora up the stairs.

Caiden waited as long as he could before dropping the net and following his friends. The remaining bees swarmed around him, stinging every piece of flesh they could, even through his thick wool sweater. Poison seeped into his blood at such a rate even Illya’s gift could not protect him. He fell to his knees, grabbing at each step as the onslaught of stings continued. His throat swelled, and each breath became a struggle. His fingernails scraped against the stone, but he couldn’t stop, not when they were so close. He shut his eyes just for a moment, just to collect himself. His throat thickened and his breathing strained—the world went dark, and then a bright light shone upon him.

He blinked repeatedly, trying to focus on what he thought must be the veil, but instead, a man wearing white robes with a thick head of white hair stared back at him.

“Caiden Stormweaver, someone on the other side has struck a bargain for your life. You will not die today.” He pressed a ball of light into Caiden’s chest, and energy shot through him like lightning in his veins. He gasped for air, filling his lungs. Was the venom poisoning his brain? Was he hallucinating? He didn’t know whether to be confused or grateful. Darkness closed in around him.

When he opened his eyes, Roderick stared back at him.

“Thought I lost you.”

He shook his head.

“I’m not easy to kill.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah…” He pulled Caiden to his feet.

Caiden examined the welts covering his body. “I guess it could be worse.” He looked around. They were in the Great Hall with the stars overhead. “How did you get out of the Restricted Section? Did you use your honey tongue, Roderick?”

A coy smile split Roderick’s face in two. “You could say I used another form of persuasion.”

“He cracked their heads together,” Ora said, nose deep in one of the books.

“Well, that’s one way of getting something done.” Caiden shook his head at his friend.

Ora ignored the men, laying out the books open on the table to the corresponding pages. “Help me match these,” she said, taking the nearest book and aligning it with the constellation of the Hive. A beam of light connected the book and the star at the tip of the beehive. “Only four more.”

The men hurried around and connected the rest: the Lion, the Specter, the Scorpion, and the one of the Goddess Illya herself. Beams of light danced across the room. The three met in the middle and gazed at the sight.

“What now?” Caiden asked, his heart in his throat. Either this was going to reveal something amazing, or it was a nice trick to show children.

“Just wait a minute. This is old magic,” Ora said.

The three held their breaths for a moment longer. The bells of the clock tower in the center of Vantris chimed their midnight tune.

“Nothing? Really?” Roderick said, clicking his tongue in annoyance.

“Look!” Ora said, pointing to a space in the night sky. The last bell of midnight chimed, and from behind a set of clouds, a moon appeared, casting a blinding light onto a long center table.

“What is it?” Caiden said, rushing to the table, looking for something, anything of significance.

Roderick climbed onto the nearest table. “It’s something. I can’t tell what, though.”

Snapping her fingers, Ora ran to the second-floor balcony. “Oh, Trinity! It’s a map! A map to what I can only think is a Trinity Well. The Well of the sylph of the Goddess Illya. Quick, help me sketch it!”

The two men sprinted to the top of the staircase. Adrenaline coursed through Caiden’s veins, but his excitement soured when he laid eyes on the location.

“Of course, it’s in the Court of Screams.”