I’d explained my findings to the group. And something about her trauma, the breaking and rebreaking, the markings on her skull. It nagged at me.
“You couldn’t have waited,” he responded. “Do you think it’s an illness?” He turned his head to Isla with the question.
She shook her head. “I’m really not sure.”
“Would a mender know more? If a plague broke out in the Gulley… We can’t lose these Rising soldiers. We need to get back to Sultira before anything of the sort spreads.”
Isla narrowed her eyes in thought. “The Master of Spells would know. But getting him to talk…”
Her gaze found mine, and she raised a raven brow. “I think it’s time we visited the Living Library.”
Smooth,copper wood arched fifty feet high, marking the entrance to the Living Library. I gaped at the massive tree, the only structure that compared to the Gilded Fortress in size and presence.
But the organism I stood in front of wasn’t a web of hundreds of trees spun together by the voices of elven tree singers. It was a single, solitary tree, sprouting thousands of iridescent golden leaves that hung in long drapes down its sides. One impossibly enormous tree that stretched over a thousand feet into the air. The radius of its massive circular trunk extended hundreds of feet and rainbows danced in the refracted light that bounced off the leaves.
I stopped walking.
“Impressive, huh?” Isla whispered next to me, as dozens of elves bustled past us.
I had no words. None to describe its beauty, its otherworldly glory. Drystan stayed behind as he’d taken on the role of training a handful of the Rising soldiers to wield the lost arts. Isla nudged me in the side.
“Come on. We have work to do.”
She led me through the domed tunnel, lit with small, elaborate sconces lining the wall, containing a soft white glow, but no flame.
“How—” I began.
“Nobody knows,” she answered before I could finish. “It’s not fire. No flames exist here. It’s always been this way. There are no records, and even our eldest storytellers have no explanation for the lights or the tree itself. It’s always stood here in Lotrennia and held our most sacred treasures and deepest secrets, including its own.”
Her amber eyes darted to the sides of the tunnel and narrowed, inspecting the organism around us.
“It’s incredible,” I murmured.
“Just you wait,” she said, pulling her eyes back to mine with a wide grin.
Moments later, we stepped into a colossal rotunda that stretched higher than my eyes could see. Rings of balconies lined the outside walls that spiraled thousands of feet into the air. And beyond those balconies… My heart stuttered.
Stacks of books and scrolls spiraled farther into the trunk of the tree itself. My breath whooshed from my lips as I beheld the bowels of the Living Library. We were inside the tree. One that had been carved out to create a sanctuary for knowledge, yet still lived and created within.
Long, pulley-like vines lowered four wooden baskets to the ground and up again, transferring elves to various levels. Hundreds of them bustled around, going about their business, hardly noticing me. I sighed, feeling a long-forgotten, quiet peace. I could disappear in here.
Isla, noting the shift in my countenance, gripped my hand with a squeeze and flashed me a knowing smile.
“I should have brought you here weeks ago with Drystan. I’m sorry. Let’s go.”
She led me to a basket that had landed. Four elves shuffled out, arms full of books. I stepped into the basket, and Isla gripped the largest vine in the center.
“Forty-four, please,” she said softly.
The door to the basket closed on its own, and she gave me a devilish grin.
My stomach dropped, and I clung to the sides as it ripped up in the air, slowing before it came to a smooth stop moments later.
A surge of unease wrapped around my belly as the basket opened on its own, and several thick vines braided together to create a wide walkway to the balcony. Without railings. I cast Isla a wary glance.
“Oh, come on, this can’t possibly rattle you after soaring with Tiberius,” she said, skipping across the bridge.
I loosed a breath.
