Chapter 11

CHAPTER11

Callan wasn’t there in the morning. For some reason, that bothered Myth, but he pushed that sentiment aside and got ready to make the rest of his way to Bresson. The innkeeper was good enough to give him bread and cheese for breakfast, and Myth’s feet didn’t ache as much for the rest of the trip.

Other things ached, though. His ass, for one, which had been breached by a fucking shadowy tentacle or whatever it was that Callan had done to him. His mouth had been stretched, and his throat ached a little from where that thing had thrust into it as well.

It hadn’t been like an octopus’s tentacle, but something far more insidious, something that felt like it had left a stain inside.

He didn’t regret it, though.

A shudder ran through him as he walked, and he couldn’t stop remembering everything that had happened the night before. A shade, a true monster, a demon of the dark… and Myth had let it have its way with him in every way imaginable. Lore would be devastated if he knew how far Myth had fallen.

He slowed down as he started to get closer to the city. It was bustling even this far on the outskirts, with horses and carriages carrying goods rolling past him. He didn’t know how far word of him had spread, but he wouldn’t put it past King Eoghan to have alerted the guard here—so he had to be very, very careful.

Surely they wouldn’t expect him to go to a library, though. A mage’s shop, maybe, so he’d avoid those, but not a place to study the arcane.

He tried to recall the books Callan had mentioned, locking them away in his memory.

Theories on Transformational Magics. Light Spells for Light Work.

Those probably wouldn’t help him much with the amulet, though, which he rather suspected had been the point. But Callan had named them for a reason, and Myth was going to find them and figure out what it was.

Myth had never visited the library before, but he didn’t have to be a full-fledged mage to recognize it from the sheer amount of power it was exuding. This was where Lore had studied.

He felt a pang at the memory.

Being apart from Lore had been difficult, especially at first. They’d never been separated that long before, and it had taken a toll on their friendship.

Maybe that had been when they’d started to grow apart.

Myth shook away those thoughts and stepped through the library’s threshold. A wave of magic washed over him, almost like a warning.

Attempting to steal anything here would probably be a bad idea.

There was a mage sitting by a table near the front, giving him the stink eye. Judging from her hair and skin, she was probably well into her fifties.

Hopefully that meant she knew the library well.

“Hi,” Myth said, approaching her. “I was looking for…”

“This is a library, not a magic shop,” she answered before he could even finish. “If you need potions, try the shop at the corner. If you need spells, there’s an entire row of shops one block over.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d been dismissed so easily, and it wouldn’t be the last. He turned on his most charming smile and replied, “Thank you. But I was really looking for a few books that might be too specialized for most shops. I was hoping you might be able to tell me where to look for them?”

The woman closed her book and sighed. “Very well. Beginner magic books, I take it? Which professor has you convinced you could be the next great sorcerer?”

Myth bristled a little, trying to maintain his smile but having a hard time with it. “He doesn’t have me convinced I’ll be great, ma’am,” he said, rubbing at the back of his neck. “But he wants me to write an essay on Theories on Transformational Magics.” He frowned, looking at her with what he hoped was pleading. “I know it’s too advanced, but I have to try if I want to pass my class… Maybe you could help me find out where it is?”

“Oh, you’re one of those.” The woman stood up with a loud huff. She took a ring of keys off the hook behind her. “Doing the research is all fine and good, but you’re going to learn quickly that it won’t help much with the actual application. But let me guess, it was Professor Temere, wasn’t it? He’s always looking for students to do the legwork for him.”

Nodding, he replied, “This isn’t the first time he’s… well…” He shuffled his feet a little, trying to seem as pitiful as possible. “I think he sort of likes embarrassing us, making us ask for these.”

“He’s just afraid I’m going to curse his ass again,” she said with a laugh. “He spent a week unable to leave the latrines. If he were half the sorcerer he claims he is, he would have been able to undo the curse easily.”

Myth shuddered. This woman wasn’t someone he wanted to anger, that was for sure. He was glad he’d decided to play the pathetic student—and that there was a professor known for taking advantage of his students. If she thought Myth was a student, too, she’d be less likely to alert the guards.

Well, this was working out.

He followed her through the labyrinthine layout of the library, glad he hadn’t decided to sneak in and try to find the book himself. She seemed to know where everything was, which was a marvel in and of itself. When she finally stopped near one of the arched windows, she unlocked the bookshelf and pulled out a very heavy looking tome.

“You may not take it out of the library,” she said sternly. “If you tear anything even accidentally, your fingers will start to freeze off. Any intentional damage to any library property will cause severe damage to you, as well. Understood?”

Magic. It was marvelous and terrifying. “I understand,” he said quickly, even more grateful he hadn’t tried to sneak in and take the thing. He’d have probably ended up lost in the shelves forever if he’d tried.

She sized him up, then motioned to a nearby set of tables where other people were sitting quietly. “The work area. Do not disturb anyone either, especially not any professors who are doing their research here. They don’t exist to answer your questions outside of classes.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said quietly, taking the book from her. “And I’ll return it to its spot when I’m finished.”

She rubbed her brow. “You must be from one of the small villages. You return the tome to the small table next to the shelves. Don’t attempt to unmagic the locks just to replace the book.”

Maybe he would’ve been tempted to do just that if she hadn’t warned him. “Yes, ma’am. I’m very far from home. I’m hoping to learn a lot here, though. It’s all so big!” he said. “I… I’m sorry for taking up so much of your time. Thank you very much for your help.”

She rolled her eyes, but apparently his simpering satisfied her. “Very well. The less valuable books are in section 3, if you need to cross-reference anything. You won’t need a key for those.”

After he nodded, she headed back toward the library entrance, leaving Myth with a book that suddenly felt more valuable than the amulet burning a hole in his pocket.

Myth took it to one of the empty tables and sat down, taking a deep breath before opening the cover. He started to read the first page, and he almost immediately got a headache. Callan had to have been torturing him by mentioning this book. There couldn’t be anything of use. After all that with the woman, he’d have to admit he really wouldn’t get anything out of it. He really should’ve tried the other books first.

He just didn’t think Light Spells for Light Work would have information on shades or dangerous amulets. Theories on Transformational Magics was much more promising.

The book was old, though. Very, very old, judging by how thin the vellum was and the quality of the writing inside. It was handwritten, even, not printed. Whoever copied this book would have had to have spent ages on it. A date on the inside page marked it as being over 200 years old. He swallowed hard, trying to be even more careful with it.

Not that it helped Myth figure out much. He very, very carefully leafed through it, hoping to spot words that were familiar. Anything about amulets, or… amulets. Binding spells?

He paused at the illustration at the start of a new chapter.

It was a large shadow, with a sinister face, and shadowy tendrils that looked like tentacles extending out in all directions.

On Shades, the ornate header read.

Well. That wasn’t about the amulet, but it might very well be useful considering that was exactly what Lore had called Callan. He gritted his teeth, settling in to read the text. Most of it went over his head, but he could find out more about Callan… Did he actually want to, though? Now that he was face-to-face with the information he probably needed, he wasn’t sure he did. The picture was bad enough, inhuman and terrifying, and he wondered if that was what Callan actually looked like in his true form.

Shades are often dismissed as being lesser, but their ability to change their shape at will is a marvel in itself, the text said. No other creature is so fluid in its form. Dragons, phoenixes, and other magical beings may take on a human form, but they are limited to those two forms. Not so a shade. I have attempted to distill the essence of their magic, but the mechanism of their transformational abilities eludes me. They cannot be made of nothing but shadow, as they can affect the world—and we have all heard tales of the shade that strangled hapless sorcerers in the night—yet their existence defies current magical knowledge.

Wow, the author wasn’t nearly as critical of the demons as Lore had been. Unfortunately, the author also began throwing out technical terms that Myth had no hope of comprehending. He started skimming the text until he came across a few sentences that weren’t half as dense.

Light does not affect the shades as one would expect, as each source of light must, necessarily, cast a shadow. One can only limit its powers. If one had a never-ending source of light, one might be able to contain such a shadow in one spot.

Interesting, but not exactly what he’d come for. He needed to learn more about the amulet. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to find information in the less restricted area, but it was worth a try. What were the other books Callan had mentioned? Maybe The Histories of the Arcane. That sounded a bit more accessible to him anyway.

He closed the book and rose, going to put it back on the small shelf she’d mentioned. Once he set it down, there was a shimmer of magic. Out of curiosity, he tried to pick it up again, but it didn’t budge. Huh. He wasn’t going to try to push that.

Section 3 was the other place she’d mentioned, and he followed the signs, heading in that direction. It took him a few minutes to track down the book.

This one was a lot newer, with text printed in blocky letters that were a lot easier to read than the scribble from before. Myth flipped through the pages, not sure what he was looking for, though. Something about magical amulets would be helpful. If the book could just flip itself open to the appropriate page, that’d be nice.

Myth sat back and sighed. He didn’t know what he’d expected, coming here. Lore would have had a better idea of how to research.

A breeze—it was a breeze, right?—caused some of the pages on the book to shift. Myth frowned down at the book, which was now on a page about the former Queen of Phassis, who had vanquished a destructive demon some hundred and fifty years ago.

There was a dark smudge on the corner of the page—only when Myth tried to lift the page, he saw it wasn’t an ink stain, but a shadow.

He looked up to find the source of the shadow, and he didn’t know why he was surprised to see Callan there. He sighed. “Are you stalking me?” he asked, but there was no venom in the words. He looked back down at the page. Destructive demon. A shade, maybe? This author might just not be biased in their favor.

“Yes,” Callan answered fluidly. He scooted his chair closer to peer at the book. “Ah, Queen Raniya. She was a great sorceress. That’s her statue in the center of Naran.”

“Did you just flip the pages to get to this?” Myth demanded, staring down at the page. He started to skim the page, brow furrowing in concentration.

It told of how, in order to seal away the destruction demon, Raniya laid a trap for it and lured it to an altar—the location of which was kept secret. Through the use of dangerous magic, she was able to prevent it from ever leaving the altar. The royal family kept the single key in a vault—

A key.

He reached into his pocket, where the amulet suddenly seemed very warm. It was a key, then. Great. No wonder everyone seemed to want it. If it was a key, that meant it could lock a demon away… or let it out.

“If she was that great of a sorceress, why didn’t she just kill the demon outright? And why’d she make a key that someone could just…” He coughed. “Find.”

Callan chuckled softly, while the book flipped to the next page all on its own. “In all fairness, it could only be… found… by somebody of Raniya’s bloodline. I didn’t know that until I tried to… find… it myself.”

“The sorceress mentioned needing his blood,” Myth said. “It… did not sound promising. With all he was saying…” He looked at Callan, and he realized the shade was his only confidante at the moment—and wasn’t that just a little fucked up? “He wants to let the demon out. Does his bloodline allow him to control the demon, or is he just hoping for its gratitude or whatever? Because if I was that demon, I’d just want to kill anyone of that bloodline. Which means I need to figure out a way to destroy this thing. But if it can be destroyed, why didn’t the queen just—” Realizing he was rambling, he cut himself off. “Well, fuck,” he muttered.

“It can be destroyed,” Callan said. He dropped a hand to Myth’s shoulder. “Not easily. You would need a lot of magical power, the kind you don’t currently possess. And if you do it badly, you’ll end up destroying the seal, rather than reinforcing it permanently.”

“Oh, that’s just great,” Myth said. “So I guess I shouldn’t have made Lore stay behind. He’s a lot stronger than I am.” He sighed. He’d fucked up so many ways in this.

Callan grinned and trailed his hand to the back of Myth’s neck. “Your friend wasn’t strong enough either. That man Izar might have been, but I doubt he’d have any interest in destroying the amulet. No, he seems to be of a similar breed as Eoghan—one who believes he can control dark forces.”

Myth shivered, unsure of whether it was from Callan’s touch or those terrifying words. “So how do I find a strong sorcerer who’s willing to get rid of it instead of using it?” He side-eyed Callan. “No offense, but I don’t trust a shade with it, even if you do have that kind of magical power.”

“Your magic alone won’t cut it,” Callan answered. He gently massaged Myth’s neck. “But if your powers were a little amplified, and with the help from your bloodline… Because, as luck would have it, Raniya did foresee a time where the amulet would be better off destroyed. There’s only one small snag.”

“Of course there is,” Myth grumbled. “There’s always one small thing.”

Callan leaned closer, so he was whispering directly against Myth’s ear. “Would you like me to tell you before or after the guards arrest you?”

Myth was about to make a snappy remark when he realized exactly what Callan had said. He forced himself to listen to the surroundings. The already hushed atmosphere had gone tense, and he could hear the familiar rustle of light armor coming from the library’s entrance.

Fuck. The librarian must not have bought his story, which meant she’d called guards in, and… He closed the book in a hurry and scanned the area, looking for the nearest exit. He’d have to go out of the window, assuming he could even unlock and open it in time. If they had his description, he couldn’t just saunter out past them.

“Can you help me?” Myth whispered back. “That… that travel thing you did last time?”

Callan looked completely unconcerned. “I could. But I’ve been giving you quite a lot of freebies. Normally I do charge for my services.”

Myth groaned, low in his throat. “Oh, come on. You choose now to decide that me letting you tie me down and fuck me isn’t enough? I’m insulted.”

“Letting me?” Callan laughed, the sound dark and rich and all too alluring considering the situation they were in. “That’s one of the things I’ve been giving you for free.”

For some reason, that stung a little. “You like it, too,” he accused. “But fine, we don’t have time to bicker about this. What do you want?”

“A meal.” Callan stood and picked up the history book. He glanced at it, then dropped it to the floor—into the shadows, where it disappeared.

“There he is!” a guard shouted, completely disrupting the quiet of the library.

“Fine! I’ll buy you dinner!” Myth hissed, grabbing Callan’s arms. “Now take us out of here!”

Callan smirked and fell backwards, taking Myth with him.

The shadows were just as disconcerting this time as the last. It was too dark to see anything, yet somehow still dizzying. Myth’s sense of gravity was completely disoriented, his body unable to decide which was way was up or down.

The only thing saving him from vomiting was the small pocket of warmth that spread out around him, growing stronger the longer the trip went on.

When Myth opened his eyes again, they were in an alley, several blocks away from the library.

“You couldn’t have dropped us somewhere safe?” Myth snapped… only to realize Callan was nowhere to be seen.

Great. Just fucking great.