Page 74 of The Awakening of Essensia

He shrugged. “I wanted to see you in a dress,” he said, unable to hide his amusement. “And if I came through any other entrance, people would start looking too closely. If the Queen finds out you’re here… Well, I don’t want to know what she would do.”

Vaelira looked down at the dress. It was beautiful, and a great disguise, but the constant threat of tripping and falling on her face was rather inconvenient.

“What’s up there?” she said, nodding to the shadowed tunnels that receded into the ceiling. A faint pale light glowed at the end of each.

“When the mages dug into the mountain, they forged tunnels to the surface to bring in natural light.” He looked up, a small smile curving his lips. “You should see it during the day.”

They ducked under the arched entrance to the Index and approached a desk in the entryway. A young man sat behind it, his golden hair swept back, a pair of round glasses propped atop his head. He jolted to his feet, fumbling to slide the glasses down onto his nose. He gave a hurried bow and gestured towards a narrow staircase on the right. “He’s in the usual room, Your Highness. Lady.”

Elijah gave a curt nod, and Vaelira offered the man a warm smile. He tried to return it, but the grin was all awkward teeth. Smothering a laugh, she followed Elijah up the stairs.

As they climbed, she held her skirts aloft with one hand and let the other hand trail along the rough rock wall. With each step, her awe began to fade, replaced by the rush of blood in her ears. If Galfri refused to help her, she wouldn’t just accept it. She was too close to finding the answers she wanted, the answers she needed to avenge Jon. She would not walk away without a fight.

They stopped before the door marked with a seven. Elijah lifted his hand to knock, but the door opened before his knuckles touched the wood.

A small man in long pale robes stood before them. His tawny skin was deeply lined, his frame hollow, sharp cheekbones prominent beneath eyes the colour of warm honey. He smiled, deepening the creases in his face, and stepped forward to clasp both of Vaelira’s hands in his own. He squeezed gently. “I am sorry it has taken so long for us to meet, child,” he said. His voice was soft enough to be carried away on a breeze. “Thank you for bringing her, Elijah. We will talk in private now.”

“I should make sure she gets back safely,” he said.

Galfri smiled, unbothered by his prince’s words. “Do not worry. I will see her returned in one piece.”

“I would prefer to stay.”

“I admire your commitment, my Prince, but there is no need.” Galfri looked kindly at Elijah, but he did not smile. Vaelira admired the man’s fortitude.

To Vaelira’s surprise, Elijah nodded stiffly, then turned on his heel and strode down the hall without a backward glance.

Galfri stepped aside and Vaelira stepped into the small room. The walls were bare stone, a large glassless window opening out over the expansive library. She moved towards it and watched as Elijah began the long, spiralling climb past the aisles and up towards the palace. From this depth, the door they’d come through looked tiny. If she hadn’t known it was there, she might have missed it entirely.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Galfri said.

She turned back to find him already seated at a table in the corner, the warm smile returned to his weathered face.

“I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Long before the Great Fire,” he said, his voice slow and reverent, “a mage ordered this library carved into the mountain. It was to hold every book that had ever been written. It took fifty years to hollow out the space. They say spells were cast to keep the paths and rooms from collapsing, and all these years later they still hold.”

Vaelira looked up to the ceiling, trying to imagine how much rock pressed in above them, and the damage it would cause if those casts failed.

“Daily shipments would arrive with scrolls and tomes from every corner of the land, covering everything from cookery to the darkest of subjects.” His eyes grew distant. “It is a haven for these scripts. The Great Fire devoured the West, but the mountains protected Eastvale. And the books. We don’t receive regular shipments anymore but sometimes a traveller brings us something they find.” His golden eyes settled on her again.

“If I’d known, I would have brought something with me,” she said, lowering herself into a chair and arranging her skirts as best she could. The silk suddenly felt absurd.

“The books in Anhaven came from this library. You would only be returning what was already given,” he laughed softly. “If you have questions, now is the time to ask.”

She opened her mouth. Closed it again.

She released the tension in her shoulders, the tightness in her chest easing with it. Then two words rushed out, barely a whisper of breath. “Why me?” The question had stalked her for weeks, ever since she’d placed the blushrose on Jon’s pyre.

Galfri inclined his head. “A sound and reasonable question,” he said. “The awakening of essensia is an unpredictable thing. It is most often passed through bloodlines.”

“Essensia?”

“Magic, child. Essensia is its ancient name.”

Vaelira blinked. “Are you saying one of my parents was a mage?” Her breath hitched. Her father, always so pragmatic, could he have hidden something like this?

“Not necessarily.” Galfri folded his hands atop the table. “Essensia can skip generations. Many, if it wishes. Did any of your kin show signs?”