Page 146 of Anathema

Who? my head echoed. Zevander? Had the ghost been warning me against him? Or someone else?

And who was the woman I’d seen just now? No one I recognized.

I slid the blade beneath the pillow, but held tight to the hilt as I closed my eyes, praying for sleep.

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

MAEVYTH

Abright haze of light blanketed my face, and I squinted past the luminosity to the clock on the mantel of the hearth.

Just past noon.

What?

I shot up out of bed, my hand tightly clutching an object. The dagger.

“Oh, no!” I darted across the room to the armoire, and swiped my training clothes from their hangers. Nearly five hours late, I very much doubted I’d find Zevander waiting for me in the training room. Nonetheless, I didn’t plan to scamper down there in my nightclothes to check. Once dressed, I slid the dagger into one of the otherwise weaponless loops on my breeches and hustled down the corridor, passing the butler along the way.

“Vendryck, have you seen Zevander?” I asked.

Chin tipped up, he stared down the long bridge of his nose. “Lord Rydainn is in his study, I believe.”

“Can you point me in that direction?

He extended a lengthy, slender finger toward the main hallway, which curved around a tower to another long corridor. “Fourth door on the right.”

“Thank you.” Despite the intense pangs of hunger gnawing at my stomach, I darted down the hallway until I came upon the fourth door.

The frantic thudding of my racing pulse had my hands trembling, made obvious as I held up my fist to knock twice against the wooden panel.

“Yes.” The irritation in his voice bled through the door, and I winced as I opened it to find him hunched over a desk, sifting through pages of a book. He made a disapproving growl in his throat, as I stepped inside the room.

Rain tapped against the wide arched windows behind him, the gloom of clouds casting a dim light across the room. Candles stood in clusters on the fireplace mantle and a small table, wavering as I passed. The room held a hauntingly beautiful ambience, but with a moody undercurrent, and I could easily have imagined hours spent reading in peace. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how I overslept.” I slid into the seat across from him, clutching the arms of the chair to calm myself.

Another grumbling sound in his throat while he kept on with his reading. Ignoring me.

A minute passed in what felt like the span of a century.

Then another.

Finally, I peered across the desk for a peek of his book. “May I ask what you’re studying?”

He flipped the book closed on his finger, allowing me to read the title on the faded, leather cover. Aethyrian Alchemical Codex.

“That must be quite old. The leather looks like it’s about to peel right off.”

“It isn’t leather. It’s human skin.”

“Oh.” A grimace pulled at my lips, and I cleared my throat. “Is that some sort of medical reference?” It must’ve been the thickest book I’d ever seen.

“Some sort.” He didn’t even bother to look up at me as he turned the page.

Knee bouncing, I bit the inside of my cheek, the irritation of his clipped responses grinding on me. “If you must know, it’s partially your fault that I woke up late.”

That earned me a scowl. He sat back in his chair and tipped his head. “And just how am I responsible?”

“The dagger.” I slipped it from the holster at my hip and laid it carefully on the desk. “I’ve not slept well in days. Between Magdah’s tea and the comfort of the dagger at my bedside, I slept like the dead.” Sans the moments beforehand, when I’d actually been visited by the dead.

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