Page 54 of Soul of Fire

I winced down at the lock, which was clearly unusable. “Here’s hoping we are long gone when someone discovers this.”

Branka snorted. “A melted lock will be the least of our worries.”

We ran back across the hall and stopped before the enormous doors of the archives. Like every other door in the castle, this one was carved with wolves, who snarled down at us as I fumbled with the key around my neck.

“If Arikdoesbecome king, he should definitely redecorate,“ Brankahissed.

“He’s not going to be king,” I insisted, feeling the lock click open.

“Hey.” Branka nudged my arm, her gaze meaningful. “You know he’d be a great one.”

The thought had occurred to me too, how much good Arik could do as king. But it wouldn’t be worth it if the path to the throne was littered with the bones of his subjects, which is exactly what would happen if the king got his war. Not only would the fae likely decimate our numbers, but the odemarksdyr would go unchecked in the south.

Death on two fronts.

“Let’s just start with the Book,” I murmured, easing open the giant doors.

I was afraid they would squeak loudly, but the doors opened smoothly and silently into the dusty archives.

Dusty was really the best descriptor of the room. I’d have thought that a place of such importance would be carefully cared for, but there were long streaks showing where books had been pulled from shelves. Fingerprints marred every surface. It was as if the skalds were too protective of their dominion to allow something as undignified as a feather duster into their holy space.

“Split up?” Branka mouthed, pointing to the opposite side of the room. Shelves were lined throughout the center of the space with two aisleways passing down each side.

I nodded, taking the side that was punctuated by stained glass windows so dirty with age and grime that they did very little to lighten the space.

Branka disappeared down her aisle, and I moved slowly, as if I were looking for a particular book but couldn’t remember where it was. There were a few other skalds present, most with their hoods down, but I kept mine up and over my pointed ears and braid hoping that it wasn’t that unusual for one of their number.

I nodded at my feet as I passed, but no one whispered a greeting or asked me who I was. It was like the room absorbed every sound other than the soft swish of turning pages and the scrape of leather on wood.

I was about six shelves deep when Idunn balked.

What is it? I have to keep moving!

Idunn growled in irritation, but she obliged, letting me go as she grumbled,Something is not right.

Are we in danger?I glanced across the next shelf to the other side of the archives, where a similar form in blue robes was moving just a hair too fast. Branka.

No.Idunn paused, as if trying to find what was setting her on edge.I’m not sure. What do we do when we find the Book?

Find a way to get it out?

I’m so glad you’ve thought this plan through,Idunn huffed.

I’m open to suggestions.

We shift and shatter the windows.

I rolled my eyes, ducking my head as I passed another skald.Very discreet.

Dragons are not discreet, Idunn intoned haughtily.

I had reached the final shelf of the archives, and there was still nothing resembling a tome of great historical and magical importance. No thrum of Chaos calling me in any particular direction.

I paused at the final shelf, peeking around the corner to see a wooden lectern with a large, leather-bound tome atop it.

That must be it.

Idunn sniffed uncertainly, but I caught Branka’s eye and nodded toward the lectern. She took a quick glance behind her, then moved to join me. “Is that it?”