Page 24 of Memory of Ashes

She sat up.

“I’ll show you. I’m not sure if you’ll be able to read any of them. I’m not sure how many are written in the old tongue.”

Just the thought of holding a book, something familiar, excited her. She would love to see their language written. It might help her understand it.

They left the Viewpoint, and he led her along the corridor to another room.

The library was laid out with shelves upon shelves of books that lined the walls around the room, with books stacked from the floor to the ceiling. There was a single table in the centre of the room with chairs surrounding it. The collection was magnificent, but its organisation was offensive. It looked as though the books had been organised by size and colour as opposed to genre, although she could not be sure of that.

If she could understand their titles, she would have arranged them herself.

Ruven began walking through the rows of shelves, his head dipped sideways, reading the spines.

Their letters were similar to those she knew, but more flowing and graceful. She’d secretly hoped that they’d look like the runes she’d found on the mountain. She hadn’t forgotten. The need to understand what they were burned within her.

They reached the shelves at the very back of the library. The dust on them made her sneeze.

“Ah,” Ruven said. “This is in the old tongue.” He pulled out a heavy brown tome. He quickly opened it to check its contents and passed it to her. Unprepared for its weight, she almost dropped it.

“I’d like one in your language too,” she said, wondering if they would allow it. She hoped to study the letters. Who knew how long she would be there? She was mentally recording everything she saw in this world in case she ever returned home.

He selected a book at random and piled it on top of the tome she was holding.

Warmth rose to her face, and she caught herself smiling.

He escorted her to her room. She swayed slightly down the corridor whilst holding the books close to her body.

The guard outside her room straightened as they approached.

“Sir.” He nodded at Ruven, who acknowledged him in return.

The man glanced sideways at her.

Ruven turned to her. “Don’t stay up too late reading,” he said. “Training in the morning, remember!” And he left.

Amelia closed the door behind her with one foot, struggling as she placed the books down carefully. She lay on the bed, picked up the fae book and scanned its pages by the light of the sconce. The letters blurred together, moving on the page. She squinted; the words meant nothing to her, but they were beautiful to look at. She then perused the book that was written in the old tongue, the language that she understood.

It was written a little differently from the language she knew, almost as though it were archaic. She handled the fragile pages with care, as they threatened to crumble under her touch.

She must have dozed. The book lay open in front of her. Someone entered her room.

She looked up, expecting it to be Casyl, but it was a guard.

He rushed towards her with a knife. She scrambled up from her bed, dodging him, but her limbs were heavy. She was cornered. He blocked the door, which was the only exit in this windowless room.

Everything Ruven had taught her vanished from her mind. She froze before the guard. She had grown too comfortable within the deceptive safety of the stone walls that kept the creatures and other fae out. She laughed bitterly at how conditioned she’d become.

He stood ready to lunge with his knife.

The door flew open, almost falling off its hinges, and Casyl burst into the room. The guard looked back at him and then lunged desperately at Amelia. Casyl was a blur. Amelia dived aside as he seized the guard’s head between both his hands. There was a sickening crunch. The guard fell to the floor, lifeless.

Casyl stood over the guard, breathing hard, fury carved into his expression. He helped her up. “Are you hurt?” he asked, inspecting her.

He stood close, his gaze fixed intently on her.

“No.” She hid her hands behind her back. “Why do you keep saving my life?”

“I keep wondering about that myself,” he said.