Garrik swallowed and stared.
Stars burn her. It couldn’t be good then.
“Fugitives are gathered in his grand hall and sold for the highest wager. Females with crimes as simple as stealing bread—to much higher offenses—are bartered as champions for the Hunt. The males suffer fates less cruel. In the back of the castle, Ladomyr transforms them into caged beasts that hunt the participants while the privileged sit in their seats and revel in thebloodshed. It is … barbaric.” He deepened a breath. “The males remain beasts for the next Hunt, while the final female breathing wins her master riches. If they live, the participant is awarded freedom, but it is rare anyone lives by the end.”
Hate. Shehatedthis place.
Hated Ladomyr and every starsdamned royal thatenjoyedthis type of sport.
Alora grit her teeth. Embers ignited in her hands when something cold enclosed her palm. She hadn’t noticed her nails were leaving crescents in her skin so viciously that beads of blood pebbled around them.
Carefully, Garrik opened her palm. She willed that inferno fit to burst back as he wiped the blood with his thumb, cooling the boiling blood inside her veins.
She swiped a tear from her eye. Not from sadness or frustration. This was unadulterated hostility. Anger. Revulsion. So violently stirring and simmering inside her that she found breathing difficult. Painful.
It made her sick—this realm, corrupted by those who were supposed to be servants of their crown.
Every damn one of them deserved to burn.
She would see them burn.
Though Alora tried not to,she could only focus on what Garrik had said. She scanned the pages of an up-to-date inventory of the princess’s gemstone collection for the fifth time.
Could it be possible Erissa enjoyed such events wearing—Alora underlined the ink with her finger—a sixteen emerald-stoned stag’s head necklace and matching golden antler earrings?
Whispers drew her attention. Alora shelved the book and weaved through the stacks to find Eldacar waiting by a table, a stack of books crowding it, and Garrik leaning against a bookshelf.
Curly red hair shifted as Eldacar avoided eye contact. He dropped his head low, fiddled with the leather bag by his side, and admitted, “There is nothing here about Blood’s location, sire.”
Garrik’s sigh was devastating, but he was gentle when he said, “Thank you for searching, Eldacar. Despite the outcome, your help is appreciated. Well done.”
Eldacar bowed his head as anxiousness rolled off his shoulders.
But Alora scanned the endless levels and shelves, cracking her neck in the effort. By the position of the sun, they’d been there for maybe forty minutes. “There must be billions of books here.”
“Trillions,” Eldacar corrected and shifted uncomfortably.
“One can’t possibly search this many books in such a short time.”
Garrik dropped his chin to his chest, leaning still with his ankles and arms crossed, smirking.
Eldacar smiled too.
“What?” She looked at Garrik, who then turned his gaze to Eldacar and raised a brow.
“It is your choice, my friend,” Garrik said in a delicate way of encouragement.
Eldacar shifted and tapped his fingers on the book in his other hand. For a moment, it looked like he wanted to seek refuge within the stacks. But one sheepish glance at her and the nod from her High Prince had him adjusting his glassesbefore he murmured, “I can … read…” And he hesitated. Seeking Garrik’s encouraging nod, as if the act of loosening his tongue would bring him a harsh punishment before he continued. “Impossibly faster than most faeries.”
Alora must’ve looked confused because Garrik pushed from the stack and pulled a chair out, gesturing to Eldacar to take it. He did so while Garrik pulled one out for her, too.
If they were sitting down, then whatever Eldacar said next had to be something momentous. Her heart raced watching him scan the shelves, the windows. She extended her hand and gently clasped Eldacar’s fidgety palm.
His returning smile settled that slight panic in her chest. Eldacar removed his glasses and wiped them with a cloth from his bag. “I suppose the simplest way to describe it is, in a sense, Garrik … located me.”
Alora’s eyes widened. “You’re aMystic?” She’d never once …not onceseen a death mark on his upper arm.
As if he knew her thoughts, Eldacar grinned slightly and placed his hand over his left upper arm. “I don’t have one because I wasn’t created in Elysian.” A glimmer twinkled behind those glasses as his brown eyes glowed.