25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

A ugust leaves and hands the stack of siren books to a page. I lightly stroke the front of my neck as the gravity of what he said hits me. I died. I died when I fell from the castle. All around the courtyard, eyes dart between August and myself, including an even angrier-looking guard with a long black ponytail. She tosses down the rest of her breakfast roll and heads straight for me with long, purposeful strides.

I stare at my book and try to read it, but I can't. I know what is coming. I've encountered too many bullies at the orphanage to think she has benevolent intentions. At least at the orphanage, I knew what my opposition was capable of.

"Beatrice, is it?" she asks and flips my book shut: classic bully behavior. She stands over me, arms crossed.

"It's Bronwyn." I open my book back up, trying to ignore her. She shuts my book again and moves in closer.

I sigh deeply. "What's your problem?" She glares down at me. If hate had a face, it would be hers.

"You're my problem." She cocks her head. "When some thief worms her way into the library I'm charged with guarding, it's a real problem for me. It's even more of a problem when she bats her eyelashes at Lords like a dumb whore. Nobody wants you here. You need to leave."

I turn in my seat and prepare to stand, but she doesn't move an inch. "Oh, you and I are going to have a real problem," I say loudly as I stand and shove her back.

Her face slackens, and she scans the surrounding tables and the few onlookers around us. Her eyes snap to mine with renewed anger.

She points in my face. "You better watch yourself, little orphan girl."

How does she know so much about me already?

"And why would I need to do that? Clearly, you've already got a thing for watching me." My words bring liquid hate to her eyes, and she takes a fighting stance.

"Don't you know who I am?" She raises her voice, drawing in a larger crowd. "I could kick your ass with one hand tied behind my back."

"I'm not afraid of getting my ass kicked either," I say, mirroring her stance, "but I bet you are." She hesitates, and her eyes dart around the many bystanders we now have, including August, who casually leans against an outer bookcase, watching us with curiosity. We've gone too far for her to back out now.

With divine timing, Razenna weaves through the crowd leisurely and approaches us with her hands in her pockets. The guard immediately drops her hands and takes a step back from me. Razenna stares at her without saying a word until the girl turns and walks swiftly away. The crowd disburses, and Razenna walks me back to my table. She throws my books onto my cart and walks me back to my original table under the willow tree.

"I put you here so I can keep an eye on you," she says and points up. Two ravens sit perched in the willow tree. "That was Lydia. She's in August's council and has had her sights set on him for years. She always requests guard duty when she knows he has meetings to take here. I don't think she liked him sitting with you."

"Seems kind of possessive for someone who isn't his," I say. "The ravens are yours?"

"Yes. They're mine," she says dismissively. "She's possessive and crazy, but those two are. . . complicated. They have a history, but he doesn't like her like that. She wants far more from him than he's willing to give."

"Like what?" I ask. I want to know but also, I don't. My curiosity is peaked at the thought of August being with someone like that, but the bitterness of jealousy starts to bloom in my gut.

"Power: The crown," Razenna says. "She wants to be High Lady, but that'll never happen. August says he will never marry."

One of the ravens lands on the table and pecks gently at Razenna's hand. She reaches into a pouch at her side and pulls out a treat for him. It dawns on me — the ravens I've been seeing all along are Razenna's.

"You're the Gatekeeper?" I ask.

She nods and pets the raven. "I told you. I'm the one who wanted you here. I asked August if he would help me, and he was generous enough to pay the expenses. I'm still unsure if you're who I'm looking for, though."

"Seems like an awful lot of trouble to get me here if you're not sure. We traveled hundreds of miles."

"And August has spent thousands of Tantalums."

"Exactly," my voice wavers, and my throat closes. I had no idea he's spent this much so far. There's got to be more going on than just stealing relics—something huge.

"Why did August meet us in Ankaran and not you?"

She gestures to her face. "Most humans would run when they saw my red eyes. Some fae still do."

"I think they're pretty," I say, and her face warms.

"I'll pick you up in a few hours to return to the castle. Stay with Cirrus." She points to the raven on the table.

***

I read through four of the smaller children's books, hoping to knock some of these books out of my stack quickly. I don't find anything useful in them, so I send them back with a page. I ask her about the bistro I saw earlier, and she offers to bring me a sandwich and a drink. I happily accept.

After lunch, I dig into a book from my historical stack. I learn that the binding relic that bound Luc and me is one of four relics used to trap Maris, the god of war. The four relics were then disbursed among the Dagr, the Sirens, the Fjende, and the humans.

I jot down some notes on my parchment and slide them into my pocket. Why are we looking for these? More importantly, why is the Prophet mentioned during this timeline? Even for a fae, five hundred years ago seems too long. Perhaps it was a different prophet. I feel uneasy about it and wonder if I even want to be involved. I sigh and rest my chin on my palm. I hope Eoin is having better luck than I am.

The raven hops closer to me and nudges my arm. I stroke his smooth black feathers, and he presses into my palm. "What should I do, Cirrus? I don't know who to trust. Heck, I don't even know what I want." He cocks his head at me and makes a croaking sound. "August says don't trust Luc, and Luc says the same thing about him. And I have no idea what I want to do after we find these relics. Do I want to return to Helios?" My chest tightens, and the bookcases around me seem to close in.

I need to focus. I scan the next book in my stack, looking for keywords and phrases, and something jumps out at me. The tome of Thisby recounts the cursing of the siren fae and the battle of the gods thereafter. Told from the perspective of three travelers, the tome contains incredible details of the capture and confinement of Maris, god of war. The tome remains hidden as it details highly sensitive information regarding the fall of the gods. The sword of regret remains inaccessible as it was shrouded by Death herself in the city of Doth Murial. As Maris cannot be released by a god, the sword remains in the underworld, where it will be difficult for a fae or human to retrieve it.

This is huge. I pull my parchment back out and take a few more notes, making sure I spell everything correctly. Cirrus flies back up into the tree as Razenna rounds the corner. "You ready?" she asks. Her grumpy demeanor has returned.

We pass through the giant pillars, and the library behind us disappears from sight. The cool air hits us, and I'm momentarily disoriented as many of the trees around us are once again shades of red, orange, and brown. I think back on my experience in the library with the warm air, flowers, and trees and wonder if we were somewhere else entirely or if there is some sort of magic controlling the climate there.

We ride in silence for a while. The sun begins to set, and the small village we pass through is now quite active as families prepare their evening meals and tend to chores. We arrive at the castle, and Razenna walks me to my room and informs me that dinner will be served in an hour.

"Pay attention to your gut," she says, looking up and down the hallway. "If you want to know who to trust, trust yourself. Pay attention to how you feel when you're around us and where your mind is." I must look very confused because she adds, "Cirrus. You told him you don't know who to trust. He tells me everything." She taps her temple with her forefinger.

Razenna leaves, and I change for dinner. It seems like there's more than she's letting on with that message, but the fact that she told me about Cirrus says a lot. Maybe I can at least trust her. She did stand up for me in the library, after all.

A servant collects me and walks me to the dining hall, where I have dinner with Eoin, Luc, Sven, August, Razenna, and the two other fae males who fought the wolves with August—Ciaran and Mads. The dinner is quiet and a bit awkward, but I'm grateful no one brought up my altercation in the library.

After dinner, two guards return to escort Luc and Sven to their rooms for the night. "Wait," I say and move between them. "Can we have just a moment? Eoin, I'll meet you upstairs." August nods to the guards, and the rest of the room filters out, leaving me alone with Luc.

"What did you want from August?"

Luc drops his cool expression for a fraction of a moment. He walks to the bay window and takes in the view. "Well, that certainly wasn't the question I was expecting." He pours himself a hefty drink from a crystal decanter and offers me one, which I decline. I need to focus on my gut and intuition. "Since we are near allies and it's somewhat plain to see to anyone with an analytical mind, I'll fill you in. I'm also looking for the relics. In fact, I suspect the only real reason August and Razenna are after them is because they know I am. I wanted access to his unrivaled library for a few days."

"I made some headway," I say, and an idea comes to mind. "Luc?" I ask. "I don't want to tit for tat with you, but I'm going to be very honest with you about what I found, and I hope you'll be just as honest with me when I ask you something."

He studies my face, eyes darting back and forth between mine. "Okay," he says and downs his drink. "I'll bite. What's your question?"

"How long do you plan on stringing me along so you can access my magic? I don't think you've been using it as of yet, but I get the impression that's part of why you're sticking around me. It seems like your dad may be around for quite some time, so I'm not sure why you're tempting me with a job." I hold my breath, awaiting his response. I still don't know the full extent of his powers or what he is capable of.

He sighs and looks at his feet. "You found out about my father? I'm surprised it took this long, honestly. I've been going back and forth on whether to tell you or not, but I didn't want you to be discouraged." He runs his fingers through his hair and sits back into the bay window. "I don't want to trap you," he says solemnly, "and I don't want you to be afraid of me using your magic. Healing sounds great, but I'm far more powerful than you are. I'd say you've got the better end of this bargain as of now. How about we make a better effort to trust one another, and I'll try to hold off on using your powers."

My heart feels a little lighter as I grasp onto a wisp of hope. He leans in, lowering his voice to a whisper. "Help me find the relics, and I'll ensure you stay safe. You can live out life happily in your little port and want for nothing."

"Can I ask what they do? Why are so many interested in them?"

He pulls his lips into his mouth and narrows his eyes on me for a fraction of a second. "There's a theory if you bring the relics together, you can release Maris and maybe even have some control over him."

"And you want that?" I ask.

His gaze sharpens. "I don't: far from it." He flinches and squeezes his eyes shut.

"Then why?"

"I can't." He flinches and cranes his neck to the side, like trying to squash a bug between his ear and his shoulder. "I. . ." He shudders. "I need to rest. Let's chat more tomorrow."

I leave the study and head through the portrait-lined hallway until I reach the mezzanine. Below, Lydia glides down the stairs gracefully toward the entryway. Gods, I wish she would just go away.

I return to the star suite. The dark walls and linens seem less cozy at night and more seductive. Warm light flickers from the lit fireplace and the two mage lamps by my bed. Atop the bed lies a pair of black silk pajamas, neatly folded with a note and a beignet on top. I eat the beignet while reading the note.

‘Bronwyn,

In case you're a little homesick; Eoin informed me the people of your region, and you most particularly enjoy these a great deal. Also, the thought occurred to me today that you did not bring any clothes with you to my home, therefore you must be sleeping in the nude. Wear these if you want—or don't.

X August'

My cheeks heat, and I read the note again—my mind venturing to inappropriate places. I bring the pajamas to the bathing chamber and slide into the warm, fragrant water. Whoever designed this castle had no sense of privacy or shame as the massive tub sits centered in front of a large window overlooking the dense forest below. I soak for a while and wash away not only the dirt and sweat from my body but the heaviness of the day. I put on the silky top and shorts. I've never felt something so luxurious on my skin. I slide into bed and stare into the embers of my fireplace, eyes already feeling heavy.