Page 141 of Blade of the Nightking

Levinica laughed softly as she tugged off one glove and scratched behind his ears. “Goose.”

“Traitorous rat,” I muttered.

Titter Mouse shot me a deeply unimpressed look, as though my insult had only confirmed precisely why he’d chosen Levinica over me.

Levinica sighed and settled back in her chair, finally closing the book before her.

“You seem better today,” I said carefully.

“Yes.” She smiled faintly. “Tired. But clearer.” Her fingers moved affectionately through the cat’s fur. “It’s nice to be back.”

Back. As though she'd wandered somewhere impossibly distant and only just found her way home.

Her gaze softened as she looked down at Titter Mouse. “Bringing him to me was a stroke of genius, you know. No one had ever thought of it before.”

Titter Mouse rolled onto his back, stretching one paw toward her face.

“He helps.” Her hand paused, and he meowed softly in protest. “It was like finding a lifeboat while drowning. They expected me to be insensible for weeks.”

“Weeks?”

She nodded grimly. “It’s happened before.” Something almost like shame crossed her face. “Rìan took a lot of time away from the library to care for me. He was terrified.”

Rìan? Terrified? The thought felt impossible. He was the thing nightmares were made of—not the one who feared them.

“He’s never seen me quite like that,” she added sadly. “I didn’t succumb to these episodes before the Veil.”

She passed a weary hand over her face. Segolayne noticed it too, straightening as though to speak—but I beat her to it.

“I’m getting tired,” I said, stretching. “Maybe we should stop for the day. Pick up where we left off tomorrow.”

A small, grateful smile touched Levinica’s mouth. I had the feeling she would have continued if I’d asked it of her, pushed through her fatigue out of guilt for her absence these past few days.

She gathered Titter Mouse into her arms, holding him lightly against her chest. After a moment’s hesitation, she turned back to me.

“I'm sorry my visions aren't more... transparent,” she said quietly, regret softening her voice. “I wish I understood them better. I'm no longer certain how much of the fault lies with the visions themselves... and how much lies with me.” Her gaze fell.

She was doubting her gift. Wondering whether her madness was seeping into her visions, blurring what had once come so effortlessly.

I put a steadying hand on her arm. “Has there been no progress? Has Rìan still not found the gates you prophesied?”

She shook her head slowly. “He's been tirelessly poring over what's left in the Cells. He's combed through nearly everything written in the common tongue, but he's found nothing.”

“The Cells?” I asked curiously.

“They're in the sub-level,” Levinica explained. “It holds the oldest books and scrolls in Elantis. Sealed chambers protect the parchment from heat, damp, and sunlight. Some are believed to have been penned by the Firstborn themselves, others by the first Fae to walk this realm.”

I couldn't fathom reading a book that ancient.

A faint smile touched her mouth at my expression. “Most are nearly impossible to decipher. Many are written in forgotten alphabets or languages no longer spoken. Others are composed entirely of symbols.” Her fingers drifted across the worn cover of The Book of Old Tales. “But a handful were transcribed. This is one of them.” Her expression softened. “Rìan found it down there. He thought you might want to read it.”

My ears rang. Rìan picked this book for me?

“Aren't you worried this one might get damaged?” I asked, my cheeks warming for reasons I refused to examine.

Levinica waved a hand. “Oh no. Not this one.”

“Why not?”