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LUCIAN

I expected protests to follow my suggestion of locking a woman up in my dungeon. Instead, Kleos merely tilted her head while Gideon grinned knowingly, buffoon that he was.

“It’s not as unpleasant as it sounds,” I assured them. “I can give you a tour. But it’s completely shielded from outside interference.”

Putting his teacup back on its saucer, Gideon stood. “Well, I’m glad we have an immediate game plan, as well as an idea of what’s going on. But pass on the tour. Mom’s breathing down my neck about this one—and she doesn’t even know Kleos is involved. I’d better give her an update.”

I wasn’t surprised the Guard was upset. Not that crime was unusual in Highvale; but it generally happened to unders. Two of the three victims had been valers. That wouldn’t do.

“We won’t like your bill, but we need you on this. Can you find us the books, and err—lend them to us once you’ve narrowed it down?” Gideon asked.

I snorted. Yeah, right. My books, delivered to the Guard. “Yes to the first, absolutely no to the second. I’ll copy relevant passages,” I offered.

“Good enough.”

“Hang on,” Kleos said. “I want to help. If you have to look through tons of books to find the relevant one, I want to give you a hand. It’ll be much faster that way, right?”

I shook my head. “They’re in runic, love. Pages and pages of elder and younger futhark, futhorc, the occasional Dalecarlian runes, and some in more obscure witchmarks?—”

She reached from the book I put down when my bridge alerted me to the approach of intruders, and the witch just read. Starting at the top of the page, without a single second of hesitation. She wasn’t translating, or interpreting; there was no pause to show her brain was trying to interpret it.

Each line took me minutes—hours, sometimes.

“ Vindsual is the name of him, who begat the winter’s god.

Summer from Suasuthur sprang: both shall walk the way of years, till the twilight of the gods .

” She flipped through the pages, and continued with another passage.

“ Hrae-svelger is the name of him who sits beyond the end of heaven, and winnows wide his eagle wings, whence the sweeping blasts have birth. Is that the ‘Lay of Vafthrudni?’”

I blinked several times as she set the book back down.

All right. Enough was enough. “What are you?”

She flushed, but crossed her arms across her front. “Can I help with the research?”

“Help?” I snorted. “Love, you’re going to read it all. I’ll make you snacks.”

It didn’t escape my notice that she had completely ignored my question, so I asked again. “That’s not normal. So, tell me what I’m working with here.”

My general wave in her direction encompassed everything, from her strange presence and her magic, so very different to everyone else, to those strong shields, and now, the ability to read ancient dead languages like they were a simple book of fairy tales.

She shrugged. “A bit of an idiot, actually. I read the wrong book as a kid. It changed me.”

Here it was, an answer to the many questions I’d asked myself since the moment I first saw her at a distance. I should have been contented. She was marked by arcane magic. That was a known occurrence. Instead, I had a billion questions.

Which book? When? What else could she do?

“Well, that’s sorted,” Gideon said, reminding me of his presence. “I really need to go. Kley, I’ll ask Mom to clear you for the rest of the week, officially assigning you to the rune research. No one will question it. I will need daily reports, though.”

She nodded eagerly. “Thank you!”

His gaze moved from her to me, then back to her. “I take it you’re staying?”

“I have a dungeon to visit,” she replied cheerfully. “And a dark sorcerer’s library.”

She said it the way most kids would talk about visiting Santa’s workshop.

Gideon laughed. “I’ll leave you guys to it.”

“I’ll walk you out,” I said and stood.

It wasn’t that I was ever concerned for any of my guests, but it was best to not leave them alone. They could and would likely freak out if they encountered the other inhabitant of the house.

Not that Cassius often left his quarters, but the smell of freshly baked goods could entice him if he caught it.

Kleos followed suit as we returned to the entryway. Outside, the gardens were less bright already, switching from blue to a deep purple.

“Do your light trees mimic the sun outside?” Kleos wondered, peeking beyond the door.

“Not as such. They do what they like.”

I didn’t quite understand how the garden worked, in all honesty. I just knew that it was dark when I wanted to sleep and bright when I needed light.

“Oh, a Sessona we met in the tram told us you should save her a dance,” Gideon told me at the door.

“I completely forgot,” Kleos said.

“Sessona is fully aware she can have all the dances she’d like.” The old hag earned them. She ran an orphanage on Wolves Avenue.

“So that’s your type,” he joked. “Slightly scary sharp-toothed, fifty-somethings?”

“I beg your pardon. She doesn’t look a day past forty-seven. Which isn’t bad at three hundred years old.”

Laughing, Gideon waved his goodbye, leaving me alone with Kleos Valesco.

In my home.

Fuck. What now?

“I suppose I should show you to my dungeons, then.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” she shot back.

Chuckling, I led her down the great staircase and through the network of complex corridors, until we reached the lowest levels.

We walked in silence. I was careful, not totally familiar with this side of the house myself. I’d explored as a kid, but I could still get lost.

I was startled to notice that Zazel followed us. That cat loved to pretend I didn’t exist unless it was time for his food, or the rare occasions when he deemed me worthy of allowing a brief head pat.

“Here we are.” I pushed open heavy red doors engraved with minute details—war scenes, by the looks of it.

Magic still lingered within the wood, though its intent wasn’t harmful to me.

Cold and dark, the floor wasn't exactly fit for guests, but I'd have time to make it inhabitable by the weekend.

"These cells were reserved for the plebe," I assured her as we passed the dozens of empty, barred rooms. "But there were a few meant for noble prisoners."

“It wouldn’t do to mix the plebe with the nobles, even in a jail.” She grinned at me, finding the concept as absurd as I did.

But today, it served us well.

At the end of the dungeons, we finally reached one of the rooms. The iron door was rusted shut, and took no small amount of power to push, but inside, the room wasn't as awful as it could have been.

The house spells must have maintained it; I doubted it had been used these last few centuries.

There was no smell of damp, no dust or cobweb.

Still, the room was rather bare. I'd have to bring a few items of comfort; a throw, books, maybe flowers.

Walking in, I gestured to the floor, walls, and ceiling.

“I’ll be damned,” Kleos whispered, walking in. "All walls are iron?"

“Reinforced with steel, and a series of spells meant to stop magic.”

Straddling the doorway, I called fire in each hand. The one outside of the room ignited and grew to the size of a watermelon, while a tiny grape-size ball feebly flickered and died inside.

“Once the door is closed, I can’t summon so much as a spark.

” I winced, knowing how awful it could be to feel deprived of our own power.

“Originally, these were designed to keep dangerous individuals in. But for our purpose, it’ll ensure no one can perform spells on you, or find you, even if they have your essence. ”

She swallowed, looking around.

“It’s not pleasant,” I admitted.

Kleos shrugged. “Whatever it takes.”

I suppose, after the horror she described from the night those runes were carved, she’d take anything—including a magic-dampening cell.

Zazel meowed for her attention from the door. I stared in disbelief. He could do that? Since when was that fiend acting like a sweet little kitty?

“You don’t like it here, huh?” Kleos interpreted for him. “Too bad. I would have loved the company.”

She meant the cat’s, not mine. I decided I was not envious of a damn lower demon.

The beast paced at the door until she walked to him and picked him up. And he let her. Without clawing her face.

“Traitor. For five years, I feed you, and you decide she’s better than me?”

Zazel’s red eyes communicated the fact that he very much thought exactly that.

Kleos grinned. “Who’s a good kitty?”

“Not him,” I asserted. “Next?—”

“The library?” she asked hopefully.

Something told me I would have a hard time getting her out of there.

“Let’s take a look at runes first, see if there’s anything to be done. My lab is down in one of the upper basements, so it makes sense to pop by there first before returning above the bridge.”

The wing I took her to next was considerably more pleasant. No bars or chains to be seen.

“Is that the garden we saw from the bridge?” she asked, pausing by a window.

I nodded. “One of them. There’s a stream running down the middle, so the two lower gardens are separated. I keep plants incompatible with each other on different sides.”

Zazel still in her arms, contentedly nuzzled against her tits, she moved closer to the window. “You weren’t kidding about faebloom,” she said, eyes on the hundreds of flowers glowing softly along the little river.

“You should see them at night. They glow gold, brighter than the trees.”

“I guess I could look on Friday. If only there were a window in the cell. Then again, it would defeat the whole, ‘completely locked in iron’ thing.”

I let my mind ponder the question, trying to find a solution around that. I would have loved to offer her a better view than iron walls.

“So, your lab?” she prompted, tearing herself from the view with difficulty.

“We’re close—I think. I rarely come this way.”