“All right.” Declan Marzouq smiled, his fingers playing with his rings, his dark lashes lowering over golden skin. “Until next time then.” Mischief danced in his eyes. With one last grin, he opened the door and slipped inside.
I was about to walk away when I heard something that made me freeze.
“Tenebrae vorant tenebrae rapiunt et ex iis regnamus,” Lilian said. Her voice was low, almost humming, like how she sounded when she sung yesterday in the maze.
The hairs on the back of my neck rose as I remembered the eerie verse.
Little Swan, Little Swan,
Resting on a lake,
Careful now where you sweep!
The ice is thin, the wind is cold,
Little Swan, Little Swan,
You will freeze into a statue...
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
ELODIE
After I left the meeting room behind, I roamed through the manor trying to find the great library Alistair had mentioned. Most of all, I hoped to search for theTome of Fatesthere, but I also would love to get a hold of a Latin dictionary.
Unfortunately, the hallways were empty—no staff in sight, likely busy tending to Lilian’s guests—and there was no sign of the library either, as far as I could tell. Every corridor seemed to stretch longer than before, twisting at strange angles. I could’ve sworn I’d passed the same arched window twice now, without ever turning back.
The doors were no better. Each one had a story, a tale, edged into their wood, desperate to be told. Yet when I tried to open them, they spoke none. Their locks were unwavering, as if the manor itself had decided it didn’t want me finding what I was looking for.
I thought back to Lilian’s strange set of keys—the beetles, the bones, the clocks etched into the old silver—and realised the carvings on the doors probably matched them. Just like my moth-lived door and key, there were others: bears and lambs,foxgloves and constellations, all engraved into the wood. I was sure Lilian had their pairs resting quietly in her pocket. I shouldn’t have been surprised. Thornhill had carried a kind of captivating dread ever since the day I arrived.
The manor was silent as I walked down the stairs, but it felt like it was listening. I tried one last door, and to my surprise, it was open. Stepping inside, I inhaled the sweet, heavy scent that lingered in the air. The light from outside filtered through stained-glass windows, casting coloured shadows across the floor. In the centre stood a kitchen island crowded with pots, steam curling softly into the air.
From the far side of the kitchen, hidden behind shelves, I heard a familiar melody float through the air. A song I hadn’t heard in a very long time. It came softly at first, drifting through the steam like a memory half-remembered. The melody clung to the air, as if it had been waiting in the walls this entire time.
My pulse quickened. I took a careful step closer. It couldn’t be her again, could it? I pinched the skin on my forearm until it burned, and then flinched. I wasn’t asleep.
“Mum?” It slipped out like a breath I didn’t mean to take.
From behind the kitchen island, brown curls bobbed into view—Myra turned around with a steaming plate in her hands.
“Elodie,” she said with a warm smile, her gaze landing on me.
I closed my eyes briefly, disappointment crashing through me in small waves. I could’ve sworn—my fingers brushed over the tattered cover of my mum’s book, still clutched to my chest.
Myra set the tray down and gestured to a plate of muffins. “Fancy one?” she asked, her braces flashing as her smile brightened.
I hesitated, glancing back toward the hallway. I still hadn’t found the library. But the smell—sweet, warm, laced with something faintly spiced and familiar—tugged at me.
Before I could answer, Myra wrapped one into a floral patterned napkin and placed it into my hand.
“It’s my mum’s recipe,” she said, her gaze remaining on the sweet treat. The muffin was golden-brown and still warm, streaked with purples and blues where the blueberries had burst.
My stomach growled before I could stop it.
“It looks delicious,” I said, earning a small smile from her.
“Let me know how you liked it,” she said, humming as she turned back to the counter.
