“This feelslike school all over again,” Finn mumbled from beside me as we both leaned over my kitchen table, scouring the photos we’d collected. Between the six of us, even with the limited time we had inside the shelves at the Solis Library, we had managed to take close to two hundred photos of pages we thought might be helpful.
“At least you’re not depending on a grade,” I replied, rubbingat my temples, my eyes heavy from the amount of text I’d been reading.
A dry laugh sounded from my side. “No, yeah, this way is so much better . . . Instead of a grade, our lives may depend on this research. So yes, I feel so much more confident now. Thank you, darling.”
A heavy sigh slipped from my lips as I reread the same paragraph for the third time—no, fourth time—no, definitely third time. The words swam before my eyes, and when I couldn’t take it anymore, I stood up, turned off my tablet, and headed to the kitchen.
“If you’re making coffee . . . make enough for all of us.” Emberly’s voice sounded from somewhere in my living room, and I simply nodded as I walked into my kitchen. Setting my phone down on the countertop, I stood on my tiptoes, reaching for the coffee grounds before I began making a pot of coffee strong enough to keep the six of us up for the foreseeable future.
Soft fur began brushing up against my legs, and I glanced down, finding Loxl nuzzling against me, and a smile grew on my lips as I squatted down, giving my fox a moment of attention. He rolled onto his back, stomach exposed as I scratched him, a contented hum radiating from the small creature as little flakes of silver stardust sparked off him.
After a few more scratches, I stood, ignoring the pitiful mewls of protest that came from my fox. My eyes caught on the clock above the stove as I began to brew coffee, and a dry laugh fell from my lips.
10:37 p.m.
It wasn’t even late. Or at least,thatlate. Soon, the scent of coffee filled the air of my small kitchen, and I began to pour six mugs before heading back out, resigning myself to the task at hand.
“Wait.” Kira’s voice echoed in the living room, causing headsto turn in her direction as she reread a passage on her tablet, head nodding at whatever words were on the page. When my sister was satisfied with whatever she had read, she furiously tapped against her screen. Then the text she’d been poring over was displayed on the TV before us as she pointed toward a specific reference that had caught her eye.
“See here?” She gestured toward a particular sentence.
In times of old, when the golden rays of light first touched the darkness, and the Eternal created the first of the cities on wings of the wind, an omen of peace was sung throughout the land.
“What about it?” I questioned as I read, then reread, the sentence, unclear about precisely what had stood out to my sister about this text.
“Okay, now read this passage.” She began to frantically tap on her screen, and a few moments later, a different passage from an entirely new text—based on the coloring of the pages—was displayed before us.
In great anger, the city the Eternal created was split—cast into a great divide—a rift to separate those who followed the chosen light and those who sought corruption and despair . . . shrouded in a darkness no angel should survive unless they turned from ruin.
“I know it’s not much,” she admitted. “But inbothof these texts, there are mentions of ‘the Eternal,’” she finished.
“I remember reading something that had the mention of the Eternal,” Finn said then. “I skimmed over it, assuming it was just a poor translation for Cato.”
“But what if it’s not?” Kira pushed. “That would be at least three different mentions of some other being.”
Everyone was silent for a moment, considering Kira’s suggestion.
“It could indicate another religion—another god,” Sage confirmed. “But it isn’t enough. A few mentions of some ‘eternal’ being doesn’t prove anything. And I haven’t seen mentionsof an Eternal in most of the texts I work with on the lower levels of the library.”
“It’s also not the same name I heard Callum say the other night. He used the word ‘Aeternus,’ not ‘the Eternal.’”
“Could they be the same?” Emberly questioned as she stared at the texts still displayed on the screen. “We all know that Aeternus is a god that’s been mentioned from our childhood—a forgotten god whose name is still shouted on the streets.”
“Even if they were the same,” I replied, “it’s not much to go on.”
“Let’s keep looking,” Finn said eventually. “But continue to keep an eye out for any texts that may reference the Eternal.”
“Didn’t Callum say that if you were ready for answers, you knew where to start looking?” Emberly asked out of the blue, and our gazes turned to her.
“He did,” I confirmed. “But that is less than helpful because when he said that, he tapped against my markings, implying that I would find the answers there.”
She frowned at my words, studying me for another minute. “Could we not just ask him?”
My pulse increased at the thought of hearing his voice again, wanting to talk with him. My thoughts flickered back to the other night, when he’d offered to give me a ride home from the tavern, remembering the feel of his body pressed against mine. The scent of amber and leather that had surrounded me as we’d cut through the Nox District. But I shook my head.
“No. We don’t even know if we can fully trust him,” I answered. “I’m not reaching out to him,” I added. “It’s not worth the risk just yet.”
“But youcouldreach out to him,” Kira added.
