“I told you, hungry.”
I sigh and close my mouth.He leads me back out into a separate foyer that has another staircase.
“We’re going in circles,” I mumble.
His gaze sharpens to a level of potent vehemence that only a feline is capable of.Gods, he’s so temperamental.
“Fine,” I say and raise my hands.“Staying quiet.”
He pads across the foyer and up a very long set of spiralling stairs.When we reach the top, it opens out into a library.
“Oh,” I breathe.
He tilts his head at me in a deeply regal feline way.It’s so smug I want to put a boot up his arse.
I shake my head and enter the underworld’s demonic library.It makes the Finis version look like a toddler’s bookshelf.
“I thought we were looking for an exit, not a library?”I whisper.
“There’s a door to Ora’s demonic library up there.”He flicks his eyes to the ceiling.“You should go,” he says, nibbling at his paw beans.
“I should…”
“But?”
My whole body sags.
But… Midnight.What I did to her was beyond hurtful.What if she doesn’t hear me out?
He purrs, an understanding sort of sound.But it doesn’t make the ache in my chest any better.
“You think she won’t forgive you?”He puts his paw down and shakes his body far too much like a dog than a cat has a right to.
I nod.“I wouldn’t forgive me.”
“Better to try and fail than never try at all.”He doesn’t wait for an answer and trots off towards the heart of the library.
I follow reluctantly.The demonic library is grand in a dark and sinuous way.The walls are made of obscure statues, arches made of arms endlessly reaching for something out of their grasp.Carved in stone, perpetually destined to fail to reach their destiny.
It’s creepy.
The windows are darkened by the ample black clouds hovering low in the sky outside.The walls are lined with bookshelves made of a wood so ancient it’s aged into a dusty-brown mud colour.Every book is bound in blood red leather.Some small, slotted in neat rows.Other books are half my height, rising up to my hip.And others still are treacherously balanced on their shelf, liable to collapse with the lightest touch.
My hands itch to pull them out and feel their glorious covers.The embossing and that aged-paper scent that smells like childhood and knowledge.
I find a couple on demonic language and contracts, pick them up and slide them into my pockets as they’re small enough to fit.Lex would appreciate them.
The light in here is the reddish glow of a burning volcano on the horizon.Just enough to see, not enough to feel safe.There is an ever-present knot in my gut, knowing that Thalia—Interitus—is chasing me.
A second knot for the fact I don’t know what she wants from me, only that it doesn’t feel good.
Mortem tilts his head in the direction of an arch.It’s empty save for a faint cloud of mist hovering between the stone arch in the darkness.
“That’s the portal?”I ask.
“Yes, thank god, my fur is about to fall out I’m so starved.”
“Has anyone ever told you how dramatic you are.”
