18. Finn

TWO DAYS LATER

EIGHTEEN

The door groans as I enter the tavern. It is early morning, the stench of ale and smoke thick in the air from the night before. In the corner of the room, Garratt lounges in a large armchair smoking his pipe. A smirk plays on his lips when he spots me.

“Finn,” he drawls. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“It has been two days, Garratt. What news?” I stride over to him, boots slapping the sticky wooden boards.

I slide into the seat opposite him, leaning in, the rough wood of the table scratching my palms. “What have you learned, Garratt? Are we to strike now? What news of Eldrion?”

Garratt assesses me for a moment, looking me up and down with a slight frown on his face. “You’ve changed,” he says. “Your energy has shifted, Finn.”

“Because I’m ready to finally –”

The elf holds up his hand and shakes his head at me. “Urgency will get you killed. Time is of the essence, but so is forethought. If you don’t do this properly, you won’t succeed.”

My jaw twitches. I like Garratt. I need his help. But he is not the one in charge, and he is not as wise and all-knowing as he likes to think he is.

He takes a long, slow drag from his pipe, smoke curling from his nostrils. Then he says, “I sent Eldrion on a little quest.” His eyes shine, and he drums his fingers on the arm of the chair.

“A quest?” I sit back, fold one leg over the other, and steeple my fingers while I wait for him to continue.

“Have you ever heard of the Elven Archives?” Garratt tilts his head.

“Never.”

He shrugs. “Of course, you haven’t. It is ancient, full of carefully guarded secrets. But it is not meant for fae. It has been kept away from you for a reason.”

“Why reveal it now?” I fold my arms in front of my stomach.

“Because I thought it might further your cause if Eldrion’s mind slips a little further into oblivion.” Garratt grins. “The truths he discovers there will play havoc with his already fragile mind.”

“What truths?” I lean forward now, staring at Garratt with a look I hope he interprets as menacing.

“Not part of our deal, Finn. I can’t share that information with you.”

“Garratt, if you’re playing games –”

Garratt holds up his hands and shakes his head, chewing on his pipe. “I can’t because it’s forbidden. Even I refuse to break the laws of my kin. No elf can share the secrets held by the library.” He removes the pipe and bites his lip instead. “I can, however, tell you how to reach it.”

As he meets my eyes, Garratt quirks an eyebrow at me.

“Is it worth the journey? Will it help defeat Eldrion?”

Garratt nods slowly. “Oh, undoubtedly.”

The rhythmic pounding of my horse’s hooves on the sandy shore keeps time with my racing thoughts as I ride, the vast expanse of the ocean stretching out to my left. The sun creeps higher in the sky. It will soon be midday, and it feels dangerous to be so exposed and so far away from the safety of the forest.

At the same time, though... I feel free.

Stretching out my wings to their full extent, I close my eyes and focus on the sensation of the air catching between them. They flutter, and gently whip my back, and the bells chime.

I wonder whether Eldrion’s death will undo his magic and make the bells fall from our wingtips. I wonder whether I would miss them if they were no longer there.

Garratt’s directions were clear, if cryptic. A hidden cave, a pool of inky darkness. A gateway to some ancient library that used to be guarded and now stands abandoned. I scan the cliffs rising to my right, searching for the white, broken-away section he told me would signify I was close.

I spot it up ahead. Pale stone, crumbling rock.

And then I see them. Tracks in the sand, fresh and clear. Eldrion’s tracks. A surge of grim satisfaction courses through me. He came this way, too. And according to Garratt, whatever he learned three days ago caused him to hole himself up in the castle and demand not to be disturbed.

Garratt’s sources say they have heard him pacing at all hours, muttering, breaking things. Talking to people who aren’t there.

Perhaps the knowledge that he is clearly not capable of fighting back should be enough for me to mobilise everyone – finally set the wheels in motion. But something tells me I need to know what he knows. Especially if it concerns Alana.

The cave looms before me, a yawning void carved into the very face of the cliff. I dismount, tethering my horse to a piece of driftwood. The air grows colder as I approach the entrance, a chill that has nothing to do with the ocean breeze.

Inside, the darkness is absolute, engulfing. I reach for the matches in my pocket and light one. The passage winds, twists, descends. Down, down, down into the depths of the earth.

And then, I see it. The pool. A still, silent expanse of black, like a mirror reflecting the void. I take a deep breath, the air dank and heavy in my lungs. And then, I dive.

The water is like ice, a shock that drives the breath from my body. I kick downwards, deeper into the darkness, my lungs burning, my eyes straining against the impenetrable gloom.

Fae aren’t made for swimming, and it has been years since I tried, but just as I feel my strength beginning to fail, just as the edges of my vision start to blur, I feel it. A shift, a pull, a current that drags me forward with inexorable force.

A purple light blooms before me, blinding, searing. I squeeze my eyes shut, disoriented, my senses reeling.

And then, silence. Stillness. I open my eyes, blinking, trying to make sense of what I’m seeing.

A vast chamber, circular, the walls lined with towering shelves that disappear into shadow. The air is thick with the scent of ancient paper and dust.

It’s a library, all right.

I take a step forward, my footsteps echoing in the cavernous space. The shelves loom over me. I follow them, scanning the walls and the floor for any sign of what Eldrion saw or touched or read.

Ahead, there is a table-like structure. A tall, mahogany plinth. On top of it lies a book.

A grin twitches on my lips. This has to be it. Why, of all the volumes here, would this book be laid out in the open if it wasn’t the one Eldrion discovered?

I run my fingers across the title on the first page.

It is written in old elvish. All Shadowkind speak it, although we have been forbidden to do so out loud for as long as I remember.

Tha Risa and Falla of tha Shadowkind:

A Treatisa on tha Darkesta Chaptera of Our Historis

“The Rise and Fall of the Shadowkind: A Treaty on the Darkest Chapter of Our History,” I read the title aloud, noticing the way the words swell in the air and seem to settle like fireflies around me.

A cool, tingling sensation – static laced with anticipation – lands on my skin. This text is about us. Written by elves, but chronicling our history.

I have never seen anything like it. The furthest back my knowledge of our kind goes is to the visions I showed the camp.

I frown as I start to read. Eldrion cannot have read this text; he does not speak elvish. None of the Sunborne do – it is why we are forbidden from using it.

I lean over the page. The air seems cooler all of a sudden, and my body begins to shake. But it is not the cold making me shiver, it is the impact of the words.

In tha ancienth annalis of our kingdoma, tharis existis a raca of fae knona as tha Shadowkind. Borna with wingis as darka as nighth and heartis to matcha, thesa creataris wera onca tha scourga of our realma, their varis existenca a blighta upona tha landa.

Ith sar saida thath in tha earlis dayis, tha Shadowkind liveth amongsth tha othara fae, their trua nataris hidena beneatha a veneera of civilis. Sed as they reacha tha aga of fiftis, a stranga and terriblis transformathion woulda occura. Their wingis, onca smalla and unremarkablis, woulda growa and matura, becomina vasta and powerfula. And with this physicala changa cama a darknessa of tha soula, a corrupta thath twisteth their varis beina.

I keep reading until I have digested the entire text, and then I read it again, and again.

With each word, my body grows both heavier and lighter.

But it is the very last line of the book that makes me start to smile. Because finally I understand how it all fits.

Finally, I know what my role is. And I know exactly how the Shadowkind are going to claim Luminael as our own.