Page 68 of Crownless Heirs

Sorcha ran her fingers over the books’ spines as she walked in the dark, feeling the ridges and cracks of leather bindings worn with age.

“Care to light the way?” she asked Maelan this time.

He snapped his fingers, and the orb floated at his side. He smirked and began slowly ascending the staircase with a slight limp while Kyron and Sorcha followed close behind.

The staircase wound around and around in a dizzying effect for what must’ve been half a mile before they finally reached a marble landing. The three of them were breathing heavily as they stood before a grand lobby.

From ceiling to floor, books stood in the thousands, lining every square inch, while wooden tables and benches lay in the center of it all. It was covered in vines and flowers, butterflies and moths dancing under the moonlight that shone in through a skylight in the dome. The silver light flooded the room, casting pale reflections on the marble floor.

The sounds of screams carried into the dome now more like whispers, which was almost worse than hearing them close by. Sorcha shivered at the sounds, gripping her bag tighter as she slowly surveyed the room. The scent of damp stone and aged paper clung to the air.

They moved slowly as they split up, each one moving through the library.

Kyron had climbed a ladder and was reading the spines.

Maelan was searching the corners for any hidden creatures.

Sorcha stared at the moonlight for a few moments before looking at the books.

“Some of these books are older than the Tuatha. There are accounts of the old the gods here.” Kyron’s voice trailed off as he opened the books and began skimming them.

Sorcha’s fingers touched the spines as she moved, looking above her. Some of the floors had missing pieces, structural cracks, and even the occasional hole, through which Sorcha peered.

Maelan called after her, “Don’t go too far without us,” as he looked over his shoulder.

Sorcha just waved him off as she bounded up the first set of stairs to the next level, nearly tripping on a large vine. A glowing orb appeared next to her. She looked down at Maelan. He smirked, then turned back to look for any information on what this place was. As she scanned the books, she heard whispers again. Not from outside, but close. A shadow flickered above her and then disappeared to the next level and the level above that. She began running toward it. Chasing after it as she spiraled up level after level before the shadow disappeared completely, leaving Sorcha almost at the top of the dome. She peered over the railing and yelled down, her voice echoing through the levels. Kyron and Maelan appeared below like ants, both heading her direction. She glanced back to the floor and began looking for the figure when silver lettering from a books spine glowed, the words twisting and changing script.

Sorcha thought back to the book in the library the way the words changed and moved under her touch, the shadow that chased her away from it that night. This was why she was here.

But why?

She reached out her hand, and as her fingers wrapped around the spine, the book became warm under her touch. She held in her hand carefully, turning it over before flipping the pages open. A blinding white light burst through the library, knocking Sorcha into a railing. The blast scattered books and parchment into the air like a tornado, pages and stone dropping to the ground.

Maelan and Kyron yelled out but she couldn’t hear the words, now running toward her as the book sat in her lap, glowing. Script hung in the air, shifting and changing in front of her, the purple and blue hues shimmering in the moonlight. Her ears were ringing loudly, her sight blurring as she tried to focus but her eyes were so heavy. She let them close, letting the darkness take over.

“Sorcha!” Voices called to her.

She could feel hands holding her.

“Sorcha.”

She opened her eyes slowly, blinking to bring the shapes into focus. Her head pounded, but the ringing had stopped, Kyron and Maelan standing over her.

“Thank the gods,” Maelan said as he held her face. “You gave us a scare, firelight.”

She placed a hand over his briefly before pulling away. “I’m fine,” she said, her voice steady. Her gaze dropped to the book in her lap.

“It was this,” she murmured, lifting it.

She opened it again. The words shifted and twisted before forming a title, The Veil.

Kyron and Maelan watched as she flipped through the pages, each one detailing creatures, gods, and monsters, their realms, customs, strengths, weaknesses. It outlined the known entry points in and out of the veil. Then the pages went blank, and the book snapped shut. Sorcha tried to open it but it hummed loudly and refused to open again.

Kyron’s face paled. Maelan stood up, taking a slow step back.

“What?” Sorcha asked, scanning their faces.

Maelan’s jaw tensed. “That’s The Book of the Veil. It’s been sought out for centuries. So many have killed for it.”