27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

A ugust, Ciaran, Mads, and Razenna are absent from breakfast the next morning, and there seem to be more guards in the library. I attempt to bring one of my daggers in with me, but it is promptly confiscated.

A page walks me to the same stone table under the willow and carts out my stack of books from yesterday. I stop her and request any historical books they have on the capture of Maris—she brings me three. I feel the faint tingling at the base of my skull again and glance around the nearly empty path.

"Wait," I say and bite my lip. She is infinitely patient with me and folds her hands together, awaiting my request. "I need to know if I'm being hexed, or maybe . . . if someone is taking hold of my mind." I grimace, knowing how crazy I must sound. This isn't the first time I've felt this way around Luc, and though he isn't here, something just doesn't sit right.

The page cocks her head at me. "I can bring you books on hex detection and protection charms," she says and moves closer to me, "but as far as your mind. . ." She lowers her voice to an almost whisper. "You'll need to visit someone with a cerebex gift."

"A cerebex?" I ask. She looks up and down the exposed length of labyrinth.

"Yes," she whispers. "When someone enters your mind, they leave traces behind that linger for a while. If you can find a cerebex soon enough afterward, they would be able to tell."

"That's the only way?"

"There would be signs." She wrings her hands together. "If someone takes control of your mind frequently enough, you start to lose it. One would eventually go crazy."

"Is it ?"

"No, but I heard they're studying it at the University of Mabon."

"What about protection?" I ask. "Can you guard against it?"

"The only substance we know of that blocks mind control is fallonite, but it's incredibly rare. I know our High Lord and some of his council have tattoos with fallonite in them to block that sort of magic."

Two guards round the corner, and the page scurries off before I can ask her anything else. I take note of the intricate braid down the back of her head, hoping I'll be able to track her down later. Lydia chats with another female guard as they head my way. My chest tightens as I remember last night. She looks tired and disheveled as if she was up enjoying herself all night. She finally spots me and glares at me as she walks past. I guess I would be mad, too, if someone left my bed to chat up another female on a balcony. Maybe she doesn't know.

I refocus my attention on my books and open one about Maris. At this moment in time, the best thing I can do is find these relics, and I'll be one step closer to freedom. I read about Maris and his atrocities against man and fae alike and the noteworthy battles that ensued in pursuit of his capture.

A deep, low growl pulls my attention from the book. I listen intently, trying to decide if I'm really hearing it when it grows louder. My heart quickens, and the darkness inside me stirs.

Something grasps the back of my head with such speed and force that I don't have time to react as my face is slammed into the book in front of me. My nose crunches and instantly burns like salt water. I jump back out of my seat and face Lydia.

Okay, she definitely knows about the balcony. My eyes sting, and my vision blurs. Warm blood runs down the front of my face and down my neck.

"You stupid little bitch," she sneers. "Razenna isn't here to save you this time." She throws her first punch. I dodge her fist and block the second with my forearm. I kick her stomach and push her back. She spits on the ground and curses me.

"What is your problem?" I ask, hoping to slow down her attack. Blood drips from my chin, and I can no longer breathe out of my nose. I concentrate on healing my broken nose, and the bleeding stops.

Lydia's eyes widen. "You have a healing gift?" She chuckles menacingly. "Oh, this is going to be too much fun." She attacks me again, this time much faster, and I only block two of her punches before she strikes me in the jaw, knocking me to the ground. Electricity hums and crackles over me.

I stand and face Lydia. Blueish-white power sparks and flickers between her palms and up her forearms. "I told you; you're not wanted here." She steps slowly towards me. "You don't belong here and you're too lowborn to be interacting with the royals. If you're not going to leave, I'm going to make you." She lifts her palm, and a bolt of electricity hits me in the chest, knocking me back once more. She's on me in a heartbeat and swings wildly at me. I hold my arms up around my head, blocking crippling blows.

"Awe, look at the baby fae. She doesn't even know how to use her powers to defend herself." She mocks me between punches. This will be so embarrassing if August returns to find out that I have been murdered by his vicious lover.

Help me. I call to my darkness, and Lydia flies back as if struck by something. I stand and hold up my hand, fingers blackening. Lydia charges me and hits an invisible wall. I push my hands forward, and the wall pushes Lydia back. She looks at me in shock as my eyes darken, and I lose control.

"Touch me again, and it'll be the last thing you do with that hand." My voice sounds stronger, with more depth. Shadows billow out behind me like a cloak, shrouding the labyrinth behind me in utter darkness.

Lydia's face drains of color. "You're a. . .a siren?" She stumbles over her words and turns to run. I follow her toward the library's courtyard, the darkness growing behind me. Lydia runs in panic, and I follow at a steady walk, knowing I will catch her.

I try desperately to regain control before we breach the courtyard threshold. Murderous rage floods my veins. I don't want to kill anyone. What is happening to me?

I walk into the courtyard, followed by the sounds of distant screaming. My shadows cover a vast majority of the library behind me, and pages and scholars run from the courtyard, dropping their books and drinks along the way.

Several guards stand in the courtyard, bows and swords raised. They release an onslaught of arrows, and I block them effortlessly with my shield. I look through the guards and try to find Lydia. Several of them have very similar braid patterns in their ponytails to hers, which throws me off.

A sharp pain rips through my neck as I'm hit by an arrow. Warm blood gushes, and I choke. Panicking, shadows grow around me. I rip the arrow from my throat and heal the wound. My darkness's fury builds inside me as I look for the offender. A young guard stands near the fountain, bow raised and shaking. I walk towards him, arms outstretched while shadows encircle us entirely. He falls to his knees and wets himself.

I pull the sword from his scabbard and raise it. Tears stream down his face as he recites a prayer. I fight hard with my darkness, trying to take back control. Please don't kill him, I beg. If you kill him, it will change me.

My darkness hesitates just as a woman with long blonde hair runs between us. She holds her palms up to me as if she could stop me from beheading this man. She's beautiful with emerald eyes and full, curvy hips and thighs. Her skin is sun-kissed, and her ears . . . she's human. Something shifts inside me, and I grasp at the small opening, seizing control. The darkness around me loses depth, and she grabs my hand.

She pulls me with her through the labyrinth of bookshelves at full speed. Shouting behind us intensifies as the shadows lift and my legs start to burn. I haven't been keeping up with my running routine. We twist and turn through the maze for what feels like miles.

We run into a dead end, and the woman looks frantically around. "Too far," she says, and we run back, retracing our steps. We take an alternate route in the maze and find ourselves at a large, unlit brazier.

The shouting of soldiers behind us gets louder, and they're close enough that the sounds of their boots hitting moss are discernible.

"Help me," she says and presses her shoulder against the brazier. I help her push, and it slowly slides over, revealing a tunnel underneath. "Follow me." She hops down into the tunnel.

I follow her, dropping into a damp tunnel, and she pulls a switch in the wall. The brazier above slides back over and blocks all the light from above. We are met with complete and utter darkness. I can't even see my own hand in front of my face. The darkness takes form. No longer just the lack of light but an entity of its own.

She pats me with her hands and feels her way down to my hand. She laces her fingers in mine and squeezes gently.

"You're safe now," she says. "Come with me. I know where I'm going." She leads me through the tunnel, and we never bump into a wall or stumble over a grate. I lose all sense of time and space as we make our way down the path. Eventually, we stop, and she tells me not to move.

"It's somewhere around here," she says. I hear her sliding her hands up and down the walls around me before the resounding click of another lever.

Above us, a small door slides open, and I squint my eyes shut at the blinding light we are met with.

"Just take a moment," she says and gently lays her hand on the center of my back. I slowly open my eyes to a ladder before me. We climb out of the tunnel and into the mouth of a large cave. Large stalactites hang from the ceiling, along with several vines and stringy lichen. The sunlight trickles through in beams, and birds fly through the large opening.

"Where are we?" I ask.

"We aren't on castle grounds anymore," she says, gesturing for me to follow her. "So, you'll be safe for a while." I follow the woman out of the mouth of the cave and through the dense forest until we find a small path.

"Who are you?" I ask. "And why are you helping me?" Gnats swarm around me and bump into my chin and neck. I swat at them for a while before I remember—I'm covered in blood. I need a bath.

"Um." She hesitates. "I'm helping you for a friend. At least, I'm hoping this is what she would want. She might kill me when she gets back." She looks back at me and shrugs. "I'm Charlotte."

The trail opens up to a small cottage covered in flowering vines surrounded by wildflowers and manicured shrubs. Behind the cottage lies a large garden with a bird bath and a small barn. "Welcome to our home," she says cheerfully.

Charlotte shows me to her bathing chamber and offers to wash my blouse, handing me a light green one with embroidered flowers along the edges. I accept her offer and leave my top outside the door for her.

I scrub the dried blood from my face, neck, and chest and then scrub again while images from the library flash through my mind. I feel sick to my stomach at the realization that I'm probably not going to get to stay here now and what that might mean for Tomas and Eoin.

My chest tightens, thinking of August returning and making me leave. He was right—I do need to learn more about myself so I can confront this darkness. I wonder if he's returned yet and if the threat of frygt is still looming.

I exit the washroom and wander into the living room, peering out the windows. Near the garden, Charlotte hangs my shirt on the line. The house is very feminine, with sheer white curtains, floral embroidered lounge chairs, and a small pink velvet tufted sofa. An orange cat slinks into the room lazily and rubs against my leg. I scratch him behind the ears, and he purrs appreciatively.

"I see you've met Pussketti," Charlotte says. She carries in a large pumpkin on her hip and sets it on the counter. "I'm going to make a pumpkin loaf. It's Razenna's favorite. Hopefully, it will soften her up to this whole debacle and give me something to do other than worry about them."

"Razenna?" I ask, thoroughly confused.

"We're together," she says. "This is our home. Didn't she say anything about me?"

"Well, no," I say cautiously. A giggle slips out of me, and I cover my mouth. "I'm sorry." I make an effort to maintain a neutral, less amused face as thoughts of Razenna lounging in the floral chair sipping tea from a fancy porcelain cup race through my mind."No, she hasn't mentioned you. I think that's mostly because, for the most part, if she's talking to me, she's scolding me for something."

Charlotte chuckles. "That sounds about right."

"Are they going to make me leave?" I ask. Charlotte pulls a kitchen knife and cuts the top off the pumpkin.

"Honestly, I don't know. Razenna was the one who wanted to hire you for the job, so she could get a better look at you. She's been watching you and gathering information for quite some time." She pulls handfuls of slimy, seedy strands out of the pumpkin, and I stick my hand in to help as well. "I was actually starting to get a little jealous at one point," she says and smiles at me, "but now I see more clearly why she's been watching you."

"What do you mean she's been watching me?" The events of the last few months flash through my mind, and I see them more clearly now—the ravens. They've been watching me since before we even arrived at the castle. "Oh. . ."

"Anyway, I don't know if you'll have to leave or not," she says. "Raz has a lot of pull with August as his chief intelligence officer, but it only goes so far." She hands me an empty bowl. "Separate out the seeds. We can cook and eat those as well."