Mathilda’s eyes burn onto the side of Odessa’s face. “And how would we know if they were old tales if every book in the library about it was taken away?”
My breathing halts as I stare intently at my aunt, desperately waiting for her denial.
That is why the library was so empty.
No denial comes from Odessa, and I swallow forcibly. “You’ve taken away books?”
Something about this just doesn’t feel right. Hiding books is never a good sign, and what could you possibly gain from hindering the enlightenment of your people?
Odessa’s eyes flick to mine. “To begin anew, we had to build a foundation. Those books were a reminder of our past. A past that is better off forgotten.”
Her eyes darken in challenge, but mine burn brightly to meet hers. “You should never erase the past. Even if you want to forge a new path, you can always learn from it.” I grit my teeth. “And destroying books is an atrocity.” I throw it out there to see if she’ll rebuke my insinuation.
Odessa merely shrugs before turning on her heel and leaving.
She didn’t deny it.
I said “destroy,” and she didn’t rebuke it.
Oh my gods, she actually destroyed the books. My eyes burn from the thought of all that knowledge, all that history, just gone.
My muscles itch for action, craving the physical challenge to dissipate the growing unease from that encounter. The destruction, the hindering of study, should be illegal.
I would make it illegal.
I shove away from the table, and Mathilda follows. Rage burns in my veins as we walk down the hall.
Mathilda breaks the silence. “What do you know about the other realms?”
Her question makes me bristle. “Next to nothing. What about you?”
“From what I remember reading, the Fomorians,” she begins, “are a race of beings from a realm called Toraigh, a place much like the ocean. Long ago, they sought to conquer the humanrealm and enslave humanity. The Father battled them back with the help of the Fae, another race of beings from Tuadanaan, and some of our other allies that I can’t remember. But the Fomorians weren’t defeated. They only fled back to their realm. Legend claims they will join other malevolent beings in the other realms—like the giants from Jotnar, the dragons from Sutr, and the demons of Helheim—to battle us again in The Great War. They seek to destroy every realm that stands in their way, and enslave the humans or any beings they deem less.”
“And you think there have been omens, like the leaves falling because of the Fomorians?”
Mathilda nods. “The signs could very well indicate that magic is fading, but we wouldn’t know because the books that detailed the omens of the Great War have vanished.”
The tree could be the first bad sign of many, and we wouldn’t even know.
“So what’s been happening around here might not be tied to my mom leaving, but omens of the Great War?” The question slips from my lips, and Mathilda quickly pulls me to a stop.
She looks up and down the hall before whispering to me, “Yes, but to say such a thing is to question Odessa, and she hasn’t treated the people who question her too kindly. Just last night, a rebel sympathizer wound up floating face down in the Ayele.”
I nod, catching her meaning, but none of this makes any sense.
How long do I have to be here before Odessa realizes maybe I’m not the savior after all, and would that mean I’ll never get to go home if I won’t be able to restore the magic here?
If there is a war coming, who will protect the humans?
The answers to my questions lie just out of my reach as we make our way to the training grounds.
Tane is already there when we arrive. His back is to us, and he has one foot pushed against the fence. He struggles with allhis might to pull the ax from the tree. Mathilda snickers as we walk towards him, his grunting becoming louder.
“Tane, you fool, every time?” She giggles, but her eyes are locked onto his corded arms as he continues pulling on the hilt.
In between each pull, he grunts out, “I am worthy, dammit!” before he lets go of the handle and slumps against the fence. He sighs heavily before looking up at us. “You give it a try.”
Mathilda glances sidelong at me, tilting her head. “Fine, I will.” She places one hand on the handle and tugs gently. “There, I tried.”
