“Rohak was simply showing me a second entrance into the Academy and explaining the science and magic behind it. If I’m to . . . service you in all ways that matter, I need to know about potential security breaches. Perhaps I can help fortify the magic here with some of my runes and Blood Magic.”
I prickled at the word ‘serviced,’ my mind instantly flying to inappropriate places. My anger grew at the potential of Faylinn servicing Alois in ways that should be reserved for his wife, and not the woman I’d come to respect and crave.
It was clear, though, that sexually servicing the Lord of Vespera was so far off the table it wasn’t even in the same room.
Alois regarded Faylinn with an intensity usually only reserved for known or perceived enemies. Even I fidgeted slightly, shifting the weight from my heels to the balls of my feet in case I needed to come to Faylinn’s sudden defense. But Faylinn simply held her ground and his gaze, seemingly unaffected by his demeanor.
Her statement was enough of the truth that Alois couldn’t find the lie in it, and he huffed a frustrated breath before stepping back and turning his unnerving gaze on me. Out of the corner of my eye, Faylinn slumped slightly, the tension from Alois’ scrutiny leaving her body.
I focused on my best friend, trying to find the man I’d loved and followed for decades. It was getting much more difficult to locate that version of Alois now, and my heart thumped despondently.
“My office,” he grunted before striding past me, his shined boots clicking against the obsidian floors. “As soon as you’re done here,” he called over his shoulder, waving his hand disparagingly in Faylinn’s direction.
Without a second word or glance, he climbed the stairs at the end of the hallway, inevitably fleeing to the study he claimed as his own.
Once the glinting of his crown and the sound of his boots faded, I chanced a glance at Faylinn, only to see her chewing her lip in absent thought as she scribbled something in the margins of one of her papers. This one had slanted handwriting practically covering the entire page, and there wasn’t any rhyme or reason to the location of each thought, as far as I could tell.
I eased closer, trying to see what she was so ferociously recording, but she felt my presence and quickly closed the book before it disappeared in her waistband once more.
“The library?” she prompted quietly, clearly still lost in her thoughts.
I nodded my head once before gesturing for her to follow me back up the staircase. She turned a quizzical eye at the false wall once more before following.
“This,”I proclaimed as I threw open the extremely tall double doors, “is the Academy library.”
The wooden doors opened with asqueakand a soft clang as the metal of the ring handles banged together, the sounds echoing in the nearly empty space.
Faylinn gasped loudly, the hand not clutching the alphabetical library catalogue flying to her mouth. We’d stopped briefly in my room so Faylinn could add to the map she’d been drawing of the Academy—so she wouldn’t get lost, she admitted—and quickly grab a few things she needed for her time in the library.
She took quiet, stuttering steps into the cavernous space, her head snapping in every direction as she gazed at the rows upon rows of books with wide eyes.
The library, like every other room in the Academy, was constructed completely of the glittering obsidian stone. Unlike the rest of the Academy, the roof of the library seemed to stretch to the heavens, and floor-to-ceiling windows covered the entire back wall. Sunlight spilled through the stained glass, bathing the black floor in a myriad of colors and shapes. A blend of purples and blues cascaded across Faylinn’s awestruck face as we took slow steps into the library.
“Wow,” she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. “This is . . .”
She trailed off, and I nodded reverently.
Books weren’t my thing. Learning was always difficult for me, and as an adult, I avoided any topic that had no critical value to my role as general and second-in-command.
But even I could understand and appreciate the beauty of the space and the reverence of knowledge held within these walls.
“Why is there no one here?” she exclaimed incredulously, like it was a travesty that no one was currently occupying the dozen wooden tables and chairs that dominated the front entryway.
I shrugged my shoulders as Faylinn set the tome on one of the desks with an audiblethunk.
“Many are at classes now. When they have a project or need to research for a class, cadets will visit during that class time or, very rarely, during free time. It may surprise you, but not many warriors want to read dusty and ancient scrolls in their spare time,” I joked wryly, and Faylinn just shook her head.
“That is a travesty,” she whispered, her fingers ghosting over the spines of the books closest to her. They were some of the most used and accessible books in this place—all about the history of war in Elyria. Battle tactics, maps, and diaries of Mages and generals lined these shelves so students at the Academy didn’t have to traipse through the stacks of more ancient knowledge in search of a particular book.
It was the only part of the library organized by theme rather than by date and author.
Maybe that’s why no one else has visited the back part of the library in decades.
Faylinn drifted toward the windows, her eyes drawn in multiple directions before she pulled to an abrupt stop, a scholar clad in black robes standing in the middle of the thoroughfare.
“General!” the scholar scratched, his voice raspy and hoarse from old age and disuse, as he swept into a shaking bow.
As much as I wanted to wave him off—Alois was much more concerned with image than I was—I knew after many attempts to the contrary, that it would just cause the old man distress.
