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“I believe she already received a hand.” Lucien smirks, an amused look spreading across his dark features. Jace growls behind me, his glare set on him.
Ilyric's eyes pinch together tighter, a confused look on his face. “And youstilltook that long?”
Lucien’s smirk grows darker, an amused chuckle falling from his lips as he stares at the bewildered Fae.
I look toward him, cutting straight to the point. “How do you know that there's a traitor here?”
Cole's eyes widen before his face twists in anger, his nostrils flaring as his eyes narrow. One word falls from his lips. “Who?”
A shudder works its way down my back from the cold animosity in that single word.
Ilyric’s eyes flicker between Jace and me, both staring toward Lucien before landing there too. His expression more in disbelief than rage.
Lucien sighs, a look of boredom on his face. “I’ve been observing the group that came here and have listened to all the stories on the attacks and compared them to our own attack.” With this, he looks to Ilyric.
“Doesn't it seem strange? They attacked all the protective spells and communication artifacts when they were attacking, going straight tothemfirst.”
“They knew where they were,” calls Jace, his eyes wide with the realization.
“That doesn't make sense…” Ilyric argues, his eyes flickering back and forth. “Who would do something like that to the Libraries?”
“A traitor…inthisLibrary?” Cole’s eyes narrow toward the door, his face now dark and unreadable as he makes his way closer to it.
Jace and Ilyric move quickly to stop him in his irrational state.
I could understand his anger and need for revenge, but now wasn’t the time.We also didn’t know if therewasa traitor among us or who it was, so charging in head first wasn’t helping anyone.
They clash, trying to wrangle the large hulk of a man, his stature and strength giving them a hard time trying to contain him.
I make my way around them and head to the door, closing it with a loud bang, the sound grabbing their attention immediately as they stop their little skirmish.I place my hands on my hips, a severe glare in my eyes as I look at them.
“Nobody is going anywhere. We need more information, and we can’t be reckless.” With this, I look to Cole. He freezes, his gaze fixated wholly on me, as I narrow my eyes toward him.
“We don’t know who our rat is or when he’ll show his tail. We need to be careful. We have too many people in that room to just go in blindly accusing them.”
“So?” says Ilyric, straightening his tunic. “Where do we begin searching for the traitor among us?”
“It’s a waiting game. As thelittle doesaid, we have to wait for our rat to slip up,” Lucien answers, a slight tilt to his lips, an amused look in his eyes as he gazes toward me.
Jace falls beside me, his brows furrowed and eyes narrowed toward Lucien. “So whatexactlydo we do?” he grits out, his tone clipped.
Lucien finally pulls his gaze from me. “We go with instinct. If something or someone doesn’t feel right, then they go on our suspect list until we narrow it down to just one.”
The room goes quiet, the weight of the discussion and work ahead of us, turning the atmosphere somber.
Suddenly a small clatter rings out in the distance from the hallway, drawing all our attention.
We all quickly realize someone could have been listening in on our conversation. We all rush into the hallway to see the main Library door swinging.
Somebody overheard us. And if it was our possible traitor, then they know thatwe knowthey're here.If it wasn’t the traitor, then we have a problem of a different sort on our hands.
And from the commotion coming from the main Library and raised voices we can hear from here, it looks like it's the latter's problem.
We all enter the main Library, the angry and anxious voices becoming louder and clearer as we make our way to the center of the room and the loud commotion. All eyes turn to us the closer we get, anxiety, anger, and accusation written on the gazes rushing to us.
“A traitor?” says the elderly pixie from earlier. As he looks at the people around him, a pallid and uneasy expression is drawn on his face.
“Who is it?” shouts a dark-haired lady to the back.
