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I furrowed my eyebrows as I stared at the fat three-ring binder that weighed enough to rattle the contents of the desk.
What is she talking about? This is a lot!
“Though I suppose it’s also possible he didn’t share everything he had with you,” Ms. Booker continued. “Considering your…interestinghistory together. At the very least it is a start. If they included references I might be able to help you track down additional materials.”
I stared at the painted picture copied from the scroll that took up most of the page, and included an elvish title in the bottom corner.
She can’t see everything, I realized.It must be spelled.
“I think they did include some titles,” I said. “But whatever sources they used were in elvish, so I can’t be certain. I’ll look through it and copy out anything useful.”
“See that you do.” Ms. Booker turned on her heel and started up the stairs.
“Ms. Booker?” I called after her, retreating to the far end of the desk and half stepping out of it. “Thank you—for your help.”
“Of course, dear,” Ms. Booker said. “Just make certain you don’t let anyone pressure you.” She glanced meaningfully at the fae still cluttering up the foyer.
“I won’t. Goodnight.”
I waited until she disappeared up the stairs before I returned to the binder, flipping through it with even more eagerness than before.
Charon had used page dividers and tabs to mark out the different sections. One was entirely about history—mostly about the enmity between shadows and elves, and information on how the shadows were hunted down. The next section was a basic rundown of abilities—something I was already relatively schooled on, though I grinned when I saw Charon had underlined and bolded my ability to fall from heights, something I had unwillingly practiced with Noctus.
I flipped to the last section—which oddly wasn’t labeled—and was surprised to find this section included information on fighting. Not as a shadow, but an elf.
There were clearly labeled and organized exercises—for swords and daggers—with perfect illustrations and handwritten notes in the margins that suggested moments for swapping my shape.
He’s continuing my training. This is a training guide—or the closest thing Charon could make.
Charon had been teaching me how to fight—it was why the tracker found my techniques so upsetting.
I had stalled in my sword and dagger training ever since I’d left…but this would help me learn additional tactics and techniques.
No wonder he spelled it. Elves never willingly gave up information about their own race. I can’t believe he even made this for me.
I laughed when I flipped a page and saw that someone had drawn a round cat into the exercises, showing how I could exploit my agility in fighting.
I assumed it was Charon, until I saw the handwriting in the margins and recognized it as Noctus’s penmanship.
I flipped through another page, and another, then five, then ten.
Page after page had Noctus’s careful handwriting—and crudely drawn cats that were so horrible they were cute—decorating the page.
I bit my tongue to keep from sighing—or feeling, I wasn’t sure which.
Could this…if he’s willing to do this for me, doesn’t that mean he also hasn’t really given up? Does he also wonder if our story could end differently?
My motivation burning bright in my gut, I pulled out my cellphone and opened the notes app—where I’d started recording every idea, no matter how stupid, that I thought of that could possibly bring Noctus and me back together.
A lot of them I didn’t like, for example, the idea I had to ask my family to go into hiding with me and we all lived in Calor Villa. (That would be grossly unfair to my siblings, and was definitely one of the more selfish ideas I had.)
Even more of my plots were improbable, like the one I was hesitating to type out.
I said every idea. I need everything I can come up with.
I shook my head and typed into the app:Noctus and his people go public?
I followed the note with three laughing emojis to note it wasnotgoing to happen, then recorded another idea:Get job w/Paragon so I have excuse to interact w/Noctus?
