26. Thorne

26

THORNE

"Magick in Motion: A Study of Levitation Through the Ages," I mutter, adding another dusty tome to my rapidly growing pile. "Seriously, who organises these things? This should be in the basic magick section, not restricted."

The restricted section of MistHallow's library is a room of towering shelves, poorly lit corners, and books that fly away, vanish and occasionally try to bite. I've been here for two hours, methodically working through Professor Graves' impossibly long cataloguing list, and I've barely made a dent.

"Talking to yourself already?" Zephyr's amused voice comes from somewhere behind me. "That was faster than I expected."

I turn to find my cousin perched on top of a bookshelf, looking far too entertained by my situation. "Some of us actually have work to do," I point out. "Unless you're here to help? "

He snorts. "And risk Professor Graves adding me to her list of library slaves? No thanks. Besides, you rang?"

Remembering with a grimace, I nod. "Yeah, I did."

He hops down from his perch, landing silently. "I assume you want to talk about your little underground adventure."

I set down the book I'm holding, giving him my full attention. "Yeah, no shit."

"Well, you're lucky you made it out alive." His playful attitude slips slightly. "That place is not stable."

"You don't fucking say," I drawl, crossing my arms. "A little heads up would've been nice about what the hell we were up against."

"Here's the thing. The chambers beneath MistHallow are not fixed. They change, shift, rearrange themselves according to some pattern that, if I were to hazard a guess, is dependent on who is down there and what they are trying to reach and achieve."

I frown. "So personal tests?"

"Yeah, like I said. It's a guess. We've been down there a few times, and each time it has been different."

"But there must be some way to map it, some logic to the changes," I argue, my academic mind already trying to solve the puzzle.

Zephyr shakes his head. "We've tried. The place defies all known laws of magickal construction." He pulls a book out of his jacket pocket and slides it over the table to me. "This is all I know, but like I said, it probably won't help you. "

Picking it up, I flick through it, thinking about our mad dash through the tunnels, how passages had appeared and disappeared seemingly at random. "So, there's no way to predict what we'll find next time?"

"Next time?" Zephyr raises an eyebrow. "You're planning to go back?"

"We have to. We didn't find what we were looking for. Or rather, we did, but it vanished, and some unseen beast chased us out. It holds answers we need. About Violet, about Morgan le Fay..."

"Morgan le Fay?" His ears perk up.

"Yeah, it's a thing." I shrug, not giving him any more information.

But Zephyr being Zephyr doesn't give up. "What do you want with Morgan?"

"None of your business." I slam a book down harder than necessary, sending up a cloud of dust. "But we can't just ignore what's down there. Violet needs answers, and whatever Morgana the Wise is guarding might be our best chance of finding them."

Zephyr sighs, picking up one of the books from my ‘sorted' pile and flipping through it absently. "The chambers will show you what they want you to see, when they want you to see it. No amount of planning or mapping will change that."

"There has to be a way," I insist, reaching for another book. As I pull it from the shelf, something catches my eye behind it, pressed close to the wood and partly concealed by other volumes. It's a thin book bound in dark purple leather, with silver runes etched into its spine.

"What's that?" Zephyr asks, noticing my sudden interest.

I carefully open the book, its pages crackling with age. The text inside is written in the ancient Fae script.

"That's written in the old tongue. Nobody can read that anymore," Zephyr says, peering over my shoulder.

Guess he doesn't realise what a giant nerd I am, because I can. The words shift and change as I look at them, rearranging themselves into something it wants me to know. My excitement grows as I read.

"It's about Morgan," I say, my voice hushed with awe. "About her true heirs and how to identify them."

Zephyr leans closer. "True heirs? What is that? What does it say?"

"'The true heir carries not just the blood but the essence of Morgan herself,'" I read aloud. "'They shall see what others cannot, walk between worlds as she did, and command both shadow and light. But beware - the power comes at a price, for to truly claim their inheritance, they must face the Guardians of the Veil.'"

"The what now?"

I scan further down the page. "The Guardians of the Veil - beings that exist between realms, tasked with testing and preparing potential heirs. They appear throughout the heir's life, watching, waiting..." Like the entity Violet saw. "So, it isn't there to harm, but to help?"

"Huh?

"Nothing." I shake my head .

My hands are trembling slightly as I turn the page. "It says here that no true heir has ever fully claimed their inheritance. They all either failed the Guardians' tests or chose to cow the power."

Zephyr snorts. "Cow? What does that even mean?"

I snicker. "No, sorry, reject . It's a similar spelling."

"Okay, that makes more sense. But why would they reject it? Also, are we talking about that new girl with the purple hair that is causing such a ruckus? Does she think she is one of these true heir things?"

"She is the true heir, but…" I place my finger to my lips, so he knows it's hush-hush.

He nods and mimes zipping his mouth closed.

I read further, my excitement giving way to concern. "For to fully claim Morgan's power is to become as she was - a bridge between worlds, forever caught between light and shadow, never fully belonging to either realm.'"

"Well, that sounds cheerful," Zephyr says dryly.

I barely hear him, too absorbed in the text. The book goes on to describe the various trials a true heir must face, the stages of their awakening, the signs that mark their progression. Everything it describes matches what we've seen happening with Violet.

"This is it," I breathe. "This is what we've been looking for. I need to show this to Violet?—"

"After you finish your detention."

I glance at the mountains of uncatalogued books still waiting for me, then back at the purple volume in my hands. "This is more important than?— "

"Than learning to follow rules and respect authority?" Professor Graves' stern voice makes us both jump. She stands at the end of the aisle, arms crossed, looking distinctly unimpressed.

"Professor," I start, but she holds up a hand.

"I believe I was quite clear about the parameters of your task. Cataloguing books, not reading them."

"But Professor?—"

"These books are not for your reading pleasure. Though I must admit, I'm impressed you can read them. Perhaps once you've completed the cataloguing, you can start on translations, hmm?"

Eyes wide as Zephyr gives me a look that screams oh snap , I slam the book shut. "Nah, can't read a single word in here." I shove the book onto the sorted pile, but the professor's eyes go straight to it, narrowing. She steps forward and scoops it up, tucking it under her arm as I grimace.

Professor Graves watches me expectantly until I reluctantly stay silent and watch her walk away with the very information we need to help Violet. Zephyr slaps his hand on my shoulder. "Sorry, cuz. But that book has gone bye-bye now."

"Yeah," I mutter, returning to my cataloguing as he swirls out in a cloud of shadows. Gone but not forgotten. But my mind is racing with what I've read. The Guardians of the Veil, the trials, the price of power—it all fits.

The entity in the library wasn't just some random spirit or demon. It was a Guardian, testing Violet, preparing her. But preparing her for what, exactly? And at what cost?

I mechanically sort books, my thoughts whirling with possibilities and concerns. We need to know more and need to understand what Violet's facing. But Zephyr's warning about the underground chambers nags at me. If we can't predict or control what we'll find down there, how can we properly prepare? Plus, do we even need to go back if the book we want has just walked off with Professor Graves?

The answer, I realise as I add another book to the growing pile, might be that we have to return into the unknown. Maybe that's part of the test - learning to face the uncertainty, to adapt to whatever challenges arise.

Just like Violet has been doing since she arrived at MistHallow.

Sensing eyes on me, I look up to see Blackthorne lurking. He smiles. "How are you getting on here? Find anything interesting?"

I blink and keep my expression as neutral as possible. "Getting on just fine. Bored, but fine."

"Hmm." He gives me a penetrating stare and then turns on his heel, his black robes swishing behind him as he stalks off after Professor Graves.

With a sigh, I return to my task, counting only about a thousand more books to go before I'm free.