Page 4 of Glimmer and Burn (Unity #1)

Chapter Two

M iranda hopped from her window and into the familiar darkness of her bedchamber.

She threw off her cloak and began to adjust the sconces on the wall until the shadows grew large with the contrast of light.

She had training and tea with her mother in the morning, but she had resisted checking her prize the entire walk home—a feat drastically out of character.

Her hand plunged into her bodice and fished out the small blade concealed in her corset, one of several hidden just in case.

Hands shaking, Miranda sliced through the plain seal and hesitated.

There would be no going back once she read the contents.

This document contained potentially incriminating evidence against her sister’s fiancé.

Sneaking around the past few weeks, searching for a way to expose Yarrow Graves as the monster he was, had amounted to very little.

She had her own story, but who would believe her over a respected political official?

Any attempt to discredit Graves might look like petty jealousy over Cordelia’s grand match while she, the older and more eligible sister, was overlooked.

She had to read the contents, she had to take that leap. But…perhaps she could do so with some friendly company.

Miranda pushed aside the clutter on her desk and gingerly set down the envelope.

She tore off the cumbersome dress and undergarments in favor of her nightclothes.

The red dress fought her as she tried to cram it under her bed, the skirts continuing to billow as air gathered in their layers.

This dress could not be found in her wardrobe or there would be questions.

The itchy wig followed, her hair once again free.

Once satisfied that the evidence of her trip to the Fells was hidden, Miranda retrieved the envelope and proceeded into the still hallways of her home.

She had made this walk a hundred times over the years, whenever Lydia came to stay for a few days.

The guest rooms were a floor below hers and had their own hallways for privacy.

Miranda knocked, waited for a reply, then opened the door expecting to find Lydia Foster, her best friend, asleep in bed. The bed, however, was untouched.

“Damn it, Liddy,” Miranda whispered to the empty room. There was only one other place in the entire estate where Lydia might be at such an hour.

The Wilde estate held a quaint, cozy library.

Not overly large or grand, a family of guardians prided themselves on physical pursuits.

Miranda herself rarely visited here. Even as a child she was too busy getting muddy or finding bugs until she was old enough to practice swordsmanship on trees and shrubs in the gardens.

There were not many places to hide and, given the hour, only one source of light. A flame flickered around a shelf nearest the back wall of floor to ceiling shelves. As Miranda rounded the corner, she knocked straight into the mobile ladder.

“Divines above—” The soft curse preceded a high-pitched cry and a woman fell to the carpeted floor.

“Lydia!” Miranda reached down to help her friend. “Are you alright?”

“Not me, the books!” Lydia let go of Miranda and started collecting the books that followed her to the floor when she was thrown from her perch.

“Thank the Divine, they’re all intact.” She gingerly brushed the cover of the final tome and set it in the stack with the others, the tower balanced on her arm and jutted hip.

Lydia Foster was a bespectacled woman with ebony curls that her poor maid had wrestled into a coiffure that had, no doubt, been neat and tidy this morning. Now it was barely contained with strands twirling their escape.

“Forget the books, are you hurt?”

Lydia looked up, blinking as if she had just realized Miranda was there. “Me? Oh, well, I suppose…” She wiggled her limbs. “All seems to be in order—oof.” She rubbed her elbow. “Probably a bruise. Nothing to fuss about.”

Miranda shook her head. “Never change, Liddy.”

Lydia gave her a wide smile, her eyes blurred slightly by the special lenses in her spectacles. “I should think not. Not until I finish my book.”

“Yes, I remember. The first historical context on demon culture.” It would be the first because, at present, all literature on demons concerned their many transgressions against the other races or how best to kill them.

The Demon War had ended sixteen years ago, but as the opposing force in the conflict, demons and their kin, grimm, suffered more prejudices than the other races.

Lydia was obsessed with researching and learning about their languages and culture.

“I’m close, Miranda, I have pages of research. Notebooks full. My mother is quite displeased. She says my fingers are always stained with ink and ruining the china.”

“Did you really need to research it in the middle of the night?”

Lydia pierced her with a knowing stare—or, rather, it might have been knowing. It was hard to tell exactly what Lydia’s eyes were attempting to express. “I could ask the same of you. Your mother nearly caught you, by the way.”

Miranda winced.

“Thankfully, I had already been to your bedchamber to see if you couldn’t sleep either and wanted to explore the library with me, but you weren’t there. Your mother found me just as I was leaving and I said you were out like the dead after we had spent the night talking.”

“Thank you, Liddy.”

“It’s not a bother, but where were you?”

“I was getting this.” Miranda revealed the envelope, and Lydia raised a dark eyebrow curiously.

“Yes…a lovely envelope, dear.”

“It’s what’s inside, obviously. I just…I’m scared to open it.”

Lydia’s smile faltered. “Is this about your secret mission? The one you refuse to tell me about?”

“Maybe,” Miranda hugged the envelope to her chest.

“Well, if you want my help opening it, then I think it’s time you tell me what this secrecy is all about.”

“Fair enough.” Lydia was the only person in the world Miranda trusted with her mission. Not even Cordelia knew Miranda’s true aim was to stop her wedding. “First, the information, then I’ll explain.”

Regaining confidence, Miranda opened the envelope. The paper inside was thin, just a single sheet, and Miranda leaned toward Lydia’s candle.

These were not any sort of letters that Miranda recognized.

She squinted, wondering if the light was playing tricks on her.

The longer she stared, the more she realized she did know those letters, at least, she knew of their existence.

Reading them, however, was impossible. “Blast it all, this is written in Faery.”

The page creased as her fingers clenched. She saw and heard nothing save the hammering of her pulse working into a frenzy. Shit. All the work, the weeks of pooling allowance in secret, all of it amounted to a document that she couldn’t read.

“I don’t suppose you can read Faery?” Miranda offered the page to Lydia.

“I’m afraid not, no. I have been working on a translation of ancient Demonic, but…I suppose that’s not very helpful.”

Miranda leaned into the shelf, working at her bottom lip with her teeth and fingers. This was a nightmare. What use was a document she couldn’t read? This might say anything.

“Oh, I know!” Lydia brightened. “Your sister’s fiancé can read Faery, I’ll bet anything.

My mother is always going on and on about him.

” She adopted a mocking tone. “Cordelia is so lucky. He’s just the sort of suitor you should be looking for, Lydia.

Why can’t you be more like the other girls, Lydia?

You can be such a disappointment sometimes…

” Lydia’s voice trailed off and she looked down at her lap.

“Anyway. Alderman Graves could translate it for you.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” Miranda said, shoulders sagging in defeat. “My intent was to use this to expose Graves of crimes that would have him arrested.”

Lydia opened her mouth then closed it, her nose wrinkled as she processed Miranda’s words before saying, “But then, what would become of the engagement and wedding?”

“That’s the point, Liddy. There can be no wedding.” The words left Miranda’s chest hollow, like a great weight had shifted and been set free. Though she planned to omit most of the details, it felt good to share her mission with someone.

“I don’t follow.”

Miranda’s muscles locked as she said, “Graves is not a good man, Liddy. He’s…well, he’s a monster and I won’t let him marry my sister.”

“How on earth is Graves a monster? All I hear are his praises. My mother was furious that Cordelia was chosen when I am also human and a few years older.” She shrugged.

“I hardly care either way, but I suppose it would have been nice to secure a match that would end Mother’s urgency to find me one. ”

Miranda rubbed her arms, though the room was a pleasant, tepid spring temperature. “He…well, he just, he’s not…good. Promise me you won’t forget that. He talks nicely, but it’s all a lie.”

“How do you know, Miranda? What happened?”

Miranda shook her head and closed her eyes to the rush of memories. She refused to let them devour her again, not here. She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that I keep him as far from Cordelia as possible. This information was supposed to do that.”

“What about the books?” Lydia stood up. “This is the section on demons…” She pointed to a section of ten books and then let her eyes wander. “So then over here…” Her finger hovered in front of the spines as she read and walked, Lydia eventually found the books on Faery.

“Here we are. Which court?” Lydia asked.

“Um, well, Graves is Night Fae, so Night?”

Lydia passed over Summer, Winter, and Day until she found the singular book on the Night Court. “Ah. Seems you have even less literature on them than demons.”

Miranda sighed. “My father always said they were the last to sign the accords, perhaps they aren’t big on sharing their knowledge with outsiders.”