Page 24

My resolve crumbles. There’s no way I’m going to win this battle. “I don’t even have any shoes on.”

“You don’t need them.” He holds the door open and I begrudgingly filter out after him.

My feet make no noise against the weathered plush of velvet carpet. We go down one flight of stairs, swerve a right, and approach a large set of wooden double doors. He pulls one open and beckons me in. I recognize the musty scent of books before lights slowly start flickering on, casting the dim room aglow.

The library is an immense, circular shaped room, three stories high, with spiraling stairs between each level. Divine-looking figures are stretched across the high, rounded ceiling.

Some might deem it drab or gloomy. I think it’s the most magnificent thing I’ve ever seen. There are so many books. I could spend days in here, years and not get through them all. The only texts in Eden are maintained by the House of Shroud and that was only enough to fill a small closet. I haven’t read anything new since I first took the Shroud, twelve years ago. I suck in a deep breath of the aging paper, ink and glue. The tension in my muscles bleeds out. Even the dāemon settles. This is exactly what I need. Information to figure out what I need in order to find a way out of here and start a new life.

I’d momentarily forgotten him in my amazement and look over to find him watching me silently. My mouth has fallen open and I hastily snap it shut as the corner of his twitches. He waves his hand over the doors, I assume, to seal us in. I can’t even bring myself to feel irritated about it at the moment. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. I take another step and halt, waiting for his instruction. He waves me on with a hand. “Go on then. No one is here. Hardly anyone comes here anymore.”

I survey the shelves. The rows and rows of books in every shade and shape. He stalks away in the direction of some plush chairs in the corner. “Wait—you mean I can…” I look toward the books in question and he cocks his head. “There’s nothing you don’t want me to read?”

“No?” he says, perplexed. He starts forward and pauses again. “Actually, I don’t recommend going in there.” He points toward a door on the far wall.

“Why?”

He shrugs. “Those books are haunted.”

He leaves me gaping and throws himself in one of the chairs, propping his legs up on the coffee table. I wander between each story, extracting books at random and flipping them open. There’s an entire section dedicated to those same strange symbols. However, they’re in the minority. I begin accumulating books and hauling them back to the table. He falls asleep within minutes, chin propped up against his palm. How he can sleep sitting up like that is beyond me.

With each trip back, my gaze flickers over him, the dark curls spilling across his brow, contrasted sharply by the shaved sides of his head. His dark circles are prominent yet his cheeks are somehow still full of lush color. His lips are parted and he’s drooling slightly but even that doesn’t dampen his looks. Classically handsome.

I clap a hand over my mouth. What am I doing? I have all these books to entertain myself with and I’m here ogling him. What is going on with me? He’s a witch . And he’s not even nice!

Once I have more books than I’ll ever be able to thumb through, I settle into the chair across from him. In Eden, the majority of our texts were either religious or warnings of what bodes outside the Wall. But this library is plum full of stories for the simple sake of enjoyment.

I collect several informational books, historical records of the Kingdoms, the Magi that rule them, encyclopedias of beasts yet I keep getting distracted by the stories. I lose myself in them, gobbling up the words as quickly as my mind can interpret them. Every so often my eyes stray over to him. Am I supposed to wake him up at some point? I have no desire to be back in his chambers with little to nothing to do, so I let him sleep even as my eyelids grow heavier.

Hours have passed by the time my eyes shift in his direction to find his open and piercing into me. I promptly shift my focus back to my book. He stretches with a groan, wipes at his mouth, and rubs at his eyes. “I think that looks nice. Being that size.” His voice is still thick with sleep. He nods his head toward how I’m sprawled in the chair with my legs draping the armrest.

A part of me wants to ignore him, still annoyed with his earlier treatment of me in front of the seamstress, but I know I’m not going to get very far fighting him. These books are helpful however the best source of information at my disposal is him . “You say that now but you weren’t saying that when you were hauling me on and off your horse.”

He laughs softly. “To be fair, it is a very large horse.”

“I didn’t know they came that big,” I admit. Silence stretches out between us. “Where do you go all day?”

I only get a stony look in return. I wrack my brain, trying to find a more neutral territory to question him about. “I uncovered your mirror,” I admit, bracing myself to be scolded.

“That’s fine.”

“Should I not have?”

“It's fine,” he repeats in a tone that doesn’t sound like it's fine at all.

“Is it?” I ask, pulling the book to my chest to meet his gaze fully.

“It's not dangerous or anything.”

“It braided my hair.”

“It certainly has its uses.” He regards me with interest. “It will be especially useful for you since you do not have magic of your own.”

“Why was it covered?”

“It can be…annoying.”

“Annoying,” I repeat.

“It has quirks. You’ll see. I don’t always like the things it shows me.” Fumbling in the inner fold of his cloak, he draws out a small silver pocket watch, flips it open, and snaps it shut.

Straightening in his chair, he eyes the massive pile of books I’ve accumulated. “That’s quite a collection.” He leans down and begins stacking the books into a pile. His eyes flick over the titles. If he has any thoughts about my selection, he doesn’t voice them. “You know we can come back, right?”

“We can?”

“Anytime. But we should probably head back,” he says with a yawn.

“Can’t we leave them out for next time?

“Don’t you want to bring them?”

“I can bring them?” Our texts were never allowed outside the monastery.

“Yeah, of course. That’s why I brought you down here.”

I eagerly stack the books. It’s almost too much for me to handle. I manage to balance them precariously under my chin. He gathers up the rest in one hand and chuckles when he notices me teetering slightly.

“Give me those.” He pulls the books out of my grasp, balancing the two stacks in one hand in a way that defies the laws of nature. “Come on, Thumbelina.”

I make a face and he laughs. “Don’t know that one?”

I shake my head. Not sure I want to based on the other nicknames he’s anointed me with. He gestures and a book comes floating down from one of the upper shelves. He adds it to the pile. Guess I’m going to find out whether I like it or not.

I close the library doors behind us as the lights flicker out. I watch the lights of the hallway blink on as we near them, and the ones behind us fizzle out. “The lights…are you doing that?”

He nods. Which means if I ever do find a way to escape his chambers…I’ll be in the dark.

“In the hallways, yes. My chambers and the library run off off the Crux. These ones out here used to too. They used to stay lit all the time, but now we try to conserve as much as possible.”

“The Crux?”

“You recall the factory outside of the kingdom?”

“Factory…” I repeat.

“Big clanking building. Pipes, smoke.”

“Yes, I remember,” I say, recalling watching the Magi filter to and from the building.

“It’s how we disperse magic to power the kingdom. The lights, plumbing, water.”

“That’s…incredible.” The words slip out before I can think better of them. I shouldn’t be complimenting them and their wicked ways. It’ impossible not to lose myself in the fascination of it all.

“It’s not as idyllic as it sounds. If you saw what goes into it.”

I count three other doors on this floor. I never hear anyone coming or going besides the night Morin paid a visit. “Is there no one else on this floor?”

“No, not anymore.” We step into his chambers and he settles my books on the coffee table before cleaning up the vial I shattered with a few flicks of his hand.

“Shit, I meant to get you a new blanket today and I forgot. Here, you can use mine.” He sweeps into his bedroom to retrieve it and sets it on the couch.

The polite thing to do would be to refuse it but I’m not polite.

“Is there anything else you need?”

I need…a way to get out of here. I can’t say that so I just shake my head. He offers me a single nod before turning away. He stops to lean against the frame of his door. “Goodnight.”

“Ni—“ I start to murmur.

“Pet.”

My upper lip snaps up, curling against my top teeth. The last thing I see is his shoulders shaking with laughter before the door shuts.