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She watched the book turn to cinders and added more of the purifying herbs to the fire. Then, returning to where she’d foundMastering the Ethera, she assessed the shelf. One more book to burn and it would be empty. One more and she’d have cleared an entire shelf.
A glance out the window showed the sun was close to setting. Not only was she determined never to work in the tower after dark, but she had something very important to do tonight. Dinner with Teryn. The thought tugged her lips and reawakened her awareness of how they tingled. If she wanted time to bathe and dress and look something like a princess meeting her betrothed for a romantic meal, she needed to leave the tower soon.
But the near-empty shelf taunted her.
I suppose I can do one more.
She lifted her palms. They tingled at once, but she resisted stepping closer to the shelf until she reconnected with the elements: the stone beneath her feet for grounding and safety, the air in her lungs for intellect, the heat of the hearth for her strength of will, and the water on her tongue that connected her to her emotions, to the very root of her clairsentient magic.
Only then did she step closer to the book.
Her palms immediately pulsed with warning, tingling along every line of herinsigmora. She breathed out deeply and brought her palm closer to the book, careful not to touch it with her flesh, only the extension of her Art. The spine felt neutral, as did the cover. Lowering her hand inch by inch, she carefully grasped the spine and angled the book to the side. The edges of the paper nearly shouted at her magic, and as she turned it farther around, she saw they were discolored. It wasn’t from age, either. It was poison.
She cursed under her breath, knowing she couldn’t burn poison. Without knowing exactly what herbs or botanicals Morkai had used, she couldn’t guarantee they wouldn’t carry on the smoke and kill everyone who dared inhale it. Instead, she gathered up a piece of cloth and carefully wrapped the book. She brought it to the table at the center of the room, setting it next to another book. The one that had killed Lurel.
The table had become her place for collecting items that would require extra care before being rendered harmless. That included most of the vials of poisons and bottled herbs Cora had found around the room. She didn’t dare pour them in any soil or stream, for the same reasons she couldn’t burn the poison-laced book; they could pose too great a harm. Those items she could only lock in a chest filled with salt and bury deep underground.
She glanced at the book that had killed Lurel and had the strangest sensation there was something missing from beside it. Hadn’t there been another item…something she’d tried to clear this morning…
Her mind went blank.
Perhaps it was the book itself that made her uneasy, gave her the niggling thought that she was forgetting something. She shifted her focus, narrowing her eyes on its leather cover. She’d already determined the book was too dangerous to destroy without knowing the extent of her stamina, but now she wondered if that hadn’t been another justification. A temptation to keep it in the off chance that something within its pages could eventually serve Cora in some way.
The thought alone brought severalwhat ifs…
What if it contains a spell to undo some other enchantment?
What if it holds information about the fae?
What if it mentions unicorns and where they came from?
What if…
Cora shook the notions from her head. While this book was clearly one of Morkai’s most personal items, there was nothing that could justify keeping it for any extended period of time. Perhaps she should just throw it in the fire now.
Her stomach sank in warning.
No, she couldn’t be reckless. Like everything else in this room, the book needed to be handled with care. Caution. Her Art.
With a deep breath, she assessed her connection to the elements and found it strong. Then, swallowing hard, she slid the book closer. From her apron pocket, she withdrew her knife and used it to carefully flip open the front cover.
It opened to the page she’d seen before, the one bearing the blood weaving that had sealed Lurel’s fate. The rust-red color hadn’t faded, nor had the design. Still, it was just paper and blood. It could be burned. As for the rest of the pages…
Her palms pulsed with heat, reminding her of why she’d chosen not to clear the book just yet. It wasn’t like the other books she’d discarded already. While those contained instructions in the forbidden Arts, this one held more than that. It was laced with darkness. Personal intent. She should slam it shut. She knew she should.
But something inside it called to her. Not in a tempting way. Not like a siren’s song. It was more like…a part of her. A missing piece of a puzzle she could recognize by size and shape alone.Thiswas the feeling that called to her, coalescing somewhere in the middle of the book. It thrummed with an energy that matched the cadence of her pulse, vibrating alongside the darkness that compressed all around it.
Cora’s throat tightened, fear strangling her chest.
But she had to know.
She had to.
Using the edge of her blade again, she tucked it between the pages, right at the center of the gathering energy. She lifted the pages and the worn spine complied, splaying open to reveal a spread of two inked pages. Unlike the page that had killed Lurel, the ink on these was not red like blood but black. Yet their design was of a similar nature, marking both pages in a complex pattern of crisscrossing lines. They may not have been actual blood weavings, but Cora felt with certainty that these were designs for ones. Blueprints. Curses invented to be forged with real blood later.
And at the top of each page was a name.
On the left,Linette Rose Caelan. Cora’s dead sister-in-law and Dimetreus’ dearly departed wife.
