The next time, I move as slowly as I can. It takes nearly a minute to shift the ladder a half-dozen feet. It was worth it, I see as I reach the top shelf, and my gaze lands on the first helpful book I’ve found—but not for Bevin or Ulfhild. This one’s for me. It’s about elves and maybe will finally explain why I’d be imprisoned if anyone learned what I am.
My steps are even lighter now than before. Breaking in here was bad enough. If anyone finds me reading this book, I’ll be killed even if they attribute it to curiosity. If I could, I’d sink into a chair in a corner, hide in the shadows. But I need light to read, so I choose the most visible spot in the library, right where the moon’s glow falls through the window. I feel exposed, like I’ve lifted my skirts to bare myself to anyone who happens in.
My heart pounds the entire time I sit there, but I finally get some answers. I’ve wondered since I arrived if my power here was unique, or perhaps part of the explanation for the elves’ banishment. And now I know. If this text is true to history, elves once lived freely in this land. They sat on the ruling council and played important roles in governing. Because they were powerful, like me.
I skim through the hundred or so pages, reading stories of elves who helped build this country. Males and females found their spots in Vanatia’s history, many for their relationships with dragons. They seemed to be closer to those massive beasts than others. Whoever penned these stories believed elves were more attuned to hatchlings and that they’d been key to earning the Thunder’s trust.
My stomach sinks as I reach the end without any news of what happened. Why elves became enemies to Vanatia’s leaders. Why so few elves have been born since they all were imprisoned. Why they spend their lives in labor camps, never allowed to know or see anything else.
If I can answer those questions, maybe I’ll figure out what drew me here, and how Toffer and I can get back home.
Sighing, I tiptoe toward the ladder to return the book. Before I can, though, I feel him. The strange male that triggers intense emotions is in this estate, stalking closer. My stomach flips as fate seems to tower in front of me, drawing us together for the third time in less than a week. It feels intentional, like the gods have intervened to ignite this weird connection.
The knob twists, and the door swings open. He’s dressed nearly the same as before—a dark tunic with black leggings tucked into leather boots, also black. But he’s left a few of the buttons on his shirt undone, revealing part of what looks to be a golden dragon etched on his broad chest. It takes all my willpower to drag my gaze up to his face. Green eyes stare at me, bright with an anger that looks ready to rip out of him.
“Why are you here?” His voice is low, dangerous.
“Why are you here? Are you following me?” I force my tone to be as threatening as his. I won’t let him think he can intimidate me.
He scoffs, his gaze flitting down my body and then back up. “You have nothing that interests me.” His words are cold, dripping with spite, even as his pupils expand, exposing his lie. “This room is forbidden. If they find you here, they’ll feed you to the dragons. The Thunder isn’t allowed humans nearly as much as they’d like. You’d be a tasty treat.”
“Or perhaps it’s you they’ll feed to those beasts.”
Now he sneers, his lips quirking his disdain. “My dragon wouldn’t tolerate it.” He shifts to the side, extending his arm toward the hall. “Leave this place. You’re not safe here, and you’re a fool for not realizing it. Don’t come back.”
“I’m exactly where I should be,” I snarl at him. “I’ll leave when I’m ready.”
He stands in silence, arm still pointing my way out, thin lips and a straight back exuding frustration. I hate to give in, but the longer we stand here, the more likely we are to be found. Finally, I realize I have no choice and stalk toward him.
“Leave me alone,” I warn as I step through the doorway.
“Stay the fuck away from me and I will.” His words are clipped, angry. “The book,” he adds as I turn away.
Gah. He has me so flustered, I didn’t even realize I still had it. “Fine,” I respond, spinning around to shove it into his hands. I shouldn’t let him know I was readingthis book, but I have no choice. And for some inexplicable reason, I’m sure he won’t expose me. Spinning again, I set my shoulders and stride away. I never look back. Even though I desperately want to.
After tossing and turning most of the night—my dreams taking me back to the cave I found myself in when I came to Vanatia and the weeks that followed trapped in the dungeons below the northern Nest—I give up on sleep just after dawn. Even if I can’t go back to the library, this house holds other possibilities. Maybe the chef’s a gossip.
She isn’t. She’s happy for the company as she starts fires and begins to pull out ingredients for bread. She’s even willing to put me to work and chat while we knead dough together. The conversation, though, never strays far from the benign and meaningless. We talk about the weather, the fruits and vegetables available now, and those she misses the most. She shares stories of her children and asks if I have a lover.
That’s it. Never once does this talkative woman stray into forbidden subjects. And maybe that’s why she’s here. In a place that values secrecy above all else, those who can keep secrets have tremendous value.
That’s what I find with everyone today. Not a single person gives me a bit of useful information. By the end of the day, I’m frustrated and grumpy. And ready to go home. This has been a wasted trip.
After bathing and dressing quickly, I sit down to prepare myself for the repellant Frida gave me last night. I know what to expect when I remove the cork from the elixir, but I’m still startled. I sit still, breathing slowly as I let my senses work through the onslaught. Finally, long minutes after applying it to my neck and wrists, I’m ready to join the festivities.
Tonight feels much like last night. Many of the same people appear, most choosing different bedmates to circle. As they did yesterday, the truly powerful people in the room share couches with Ulfhild’s girls. They drink and enjoy a passing bite of food while they wait. And then the same bedmate rises to draw her consort away. Others stand and do the same. Nobody comes near me.
Until he arrives. I sense him as he approaches the front door, my emotions waffling between anxiety and excitement at his presence. I force them to settle down. It’ll require all my concentration to understand what’s going on. Taking a deep breath, I release the firm hold I always keep on my mind.
I learned to control my wandering psyche within a few weeks of landing here. At first, I welcomed the escape. It let me slip away from the room they kept me in, the things they did to me. It let me see into people in a way I couldn’t in my worlds. It’s what eventually helped me escape.
Too often, though, I came back to a body barely clinging to life. When I wasn’t there, I couldn’t use what little power I possessed in those caves to intimidate and repel my tormentors. I realized I needed to be present and interact with them, or they would go too far. So I forced myself to stay put. Endure the pain. Until I found a way out.
In the years that followed, I taught myself how to send out my thoughts and call them back reliably. I even discovered how to maintain the barest hold on my physical form, alerting me if I needed to return quickly. I can do this without much risk now. So I do.
It isn’t hard to find him. His presence calls to me like a beacon. My mind goes directly to the front door where he stands. I’m breathless, even as my heart decides it’s running a marathon.
But that’s as far as I can go. For the first time since I started reaching out to other people, my spirit hits a wall. I feel his presence but nothing else. I can’t see into him at all or sense a single emotion. Not even the hint of a thought.
