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I worry about Tavi. Az claims she’s traveling the world like she always wanted, free to roam about now that her brother is king and can provide for her.
I find her sudden interest in traveling unlikely, considering the world is on the brink of war.
Tavi’s disappearance isn’t the only thing concerning me, though. Each night Az goes without sleep—stimulated by the magical elixir from his healer—his poise seems to slip.
Though there’s part of me that hopes his exhaustion will cause him to mis-step, the other part of me worries about who will be caught in the cross fire when he finally does.
The library looks abandoned, like no one has used it since Az’s coup.
The thought threatens to make me sad, but it seems like a silly thing to waste my sadness on, when I can just be happy that no one thought to touch my books.
I’m not allowed by myself in the library. One of Az’s guards stands at attention near the entrance, but that’s fine by me. I overheard Az’s instructions to him. I’m to be given the entire day to spend here, and I’m rather confident in my ability to entertain myself until the guard is lulled to sleep by boredom.
That, and the fact that I throw a few extra logs on the fireplace, causing the flames to swell jovially, thickening the air with a sickly, blanketing heat.
Granted, I’m rather uncomfortable after about an hour and find myself tugging at my collar just so I can breathe a little easier. That’s no matter. The guard is faring much worse, what with all the armor piled atop him.
Beads of sweat glisten on his forehead as he stands watching me.
I’m careful to remain still as I read. No flopping about or anything that might threaten to keep the guard alert.
If he were a good guard, he could force himself awake through even the dullest, most sweltering of activities. At least, that’s what Az would say.
But even guards have to sleep, and even the fae can’t escape boredom.
It takes five hours and a rather heavy lunch supplied fortuitously by the kitchen staff, but eventually the guard nods off, and I sneak over to the fireplace.
My fingers caress the stone surface, tracing the strange markings written in an ancient language.
Ah, so here we are again. They’ve yet to replace the vase you broke, says my magic.
Indeed, the mantel sits empty, and if I pressed my bare feet into the rug below, I’m fairly sure shards of ceramic would prick me and alert me to their presence.
Together, my magic and my voice meld, reading the script in the ancient language.
A quick breeze quenches the fire in the hearth as the back wall of the fireplace disappears into the shadows.
It’s dark in the chamber. I’ll have to find the discarded lamp somewhere on the floor if I want to see much of anything. Then again, I suppose it’s not all that important that I be able to see the chamber, only that I remove some of its contents.
I shuffle around the chamber on my hands and knees, not wishing to trip and awaken the guard in the library. But when my hands touch the ground, and I reach my way to the shelves lining the edge of the room, I find nothing but dust lining the shelves.
Thinking I must have organized the scrolls on another shelf before I left, and that the turmoil of the past few months evicted it from my memory, I scale to the other side, running my hands across those shelves as well.
Empty.
A light flickers to life behind me, dread swelling in my belly.
I turn to find Az, half his face obscured in the shadows.
Even the shadows can’t mask the dark circles underneath his eyes, the symptom of countless sleepless nights.
“I had them removed before you arrived,” he says. “You aren’t the only one who can read the ancient language. I had one of the scholars open the passageway. Sent a message ahead of us before we arrived in Naenden.”
Removed. Az had the scrolls removed, anticipating I would try to use them against him.
I have the sudden urge to dig my fingernails into my skin.
Frustration threatens to boil me alive, but I won’t succumb to it. Won’t let Az get the best of me.
