Page 43 of The Fae Lord

“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?

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