Page 100 of Lady of Shadows

Revenge. He had made her kill Juliette out of revenge as much as to prove his control over her.

Where had they come from? The Lairwoods had long been Hands to the human king in Windonelle. Just how distantly related were they from the man who had come across the sea then?

She thumbed slowly through the book. She had seen mention, somewhere in here, of the other continents of their world. Distant lands and kingdoms long forgotten by those of this continent.

She skimmed each page as quickly as she dared. She was exhausted. She’d hardly slept the night before, and the emotional turmoil she’d been in since that mountain house had drained her. But this… She knew it was important.

Her fingers stilled as she came to a paragraph that listed several other kingdoms. Orlandria. Maraa. Asterolia. Avonleya. Solember. Where these kingdoms were located, she had no idea, but it was a start.

She rose from her seat and ventured toward the shelves. This was old knowledge. Knowledge, perhaps, from before the time of the Great War. She went deeper into the tombs and stacks of books. As the passages grew darker and darker, she grabbed a torch down from the wall so she could see the books’ titles better. Many of them were in the Old Language,which she was starting to recognize and differentiate from the common tongue. But others were in languages she had never seen.

Farther and farther she crept, running her fingers along book spines. The passageway got mustier and damper until she came upon a bookcase set into the wall. The books on these shelves were centuries old. Older. There was an iron bracket near it, and she set the torch in it, illuminating all the books. The first shelf was books in the common tongue. The second shelf was books in the Old Language. She pulled a book from the third shelf, waving her hand at the cloud of dust that sprang forth. Gingerly, she opened the book and sank to the floor, crossing her legs beneath her.

Spells. This was a book of spells. Sorin had said Fae could do spellwork, but not well. He had said spellwork was honed and crafted by the Witches. There were spells in this book for everything. Healing. Wards. Strength. Curses.

Blood Oaths.

Dividing territories.

Creating keys.

She turned back to the bookshelf. The entire third shelf was spell books. She placed the one in her hands gently on the floor beside her. Gods, she was filthy. Her black pants and tunic were covered with dust and dirt as she sat on the floor. The dust was so thick on the stones it was clear it hadn’t been disturbed in years.

Her attention turned to the bottom fourth shelf. All the books on this shelf were written in a language she did not know, but they seemed to all be of the same language. The letters and symbols appeared the same, at least. She reached to pull one off the shelf, and as she did, there was a creaking and groaning. She shot to her feet, pulling the dagger from her side and angling it as the bookshelf slid into the wall.

Of course this was here. Of course there was a magical bookshelf in the recesses of this library. Because she needed more surprises in her damn life right now.

She sighed in frustration when the bookcase stopped moving, leaving only a sliver of the books accessible. Cautiously, she stepped forward to look at the opening and found a staircase wending down into the dark.She yanked the torch from the wall and plunged it into the opening before her, but it did little. Just illuminated more steps leading somewhere she could not see.

She stood at the top of that stairway, biting her lip. Did Sorin even know about this place? She couldn’t venture down there tonight. Not with only a dagger. She’d need a few more weapons and candles and a plan.

She stepped back out of the passageway, studying the opening. She couldn't just leave it open. Based on every book she’d ever read that contained a secret passageway, she supposed the book that had opened the doorway would also close it. The book was one of the few still accessible on the bookshelf, and sure enough, when she pulled it again, the bookshelf slid back into place.

Holding her breath, she gently tugged on the book next to the secret switch, and breathed a sigh of relief as nothing surprising happened when it came free. It was in that odd language she didn’t recognize. She flipped through it. How could she learn to read this? Maybe Sorin knew what it was.

She set it down beside her and picked the spell book back up. She should really go up to bed, but that meant seeing Sorin. She knew he’d be up, waiting for her. And while they had talked in his old apartment, those wounds were still fresh. She forgave him. She really did. But that didn’t mean things wouldn’t be tense and awkward for a while. She was just too emotionally drained to handle it right now.

Fine, she was avoiding him.

So she opened the spell book and began to read.

“Scarlett.”

The voice was soft as familiar hands gently shook her shoulders.

There was a cold stone floor beneath her cheek, and her breathing hitched as she shot straight up,reaching for the dagger at her waist.

“It’s me, Scarlett,” Sorin said in a low voice. “I did not mean to startle you.”

She whipped her head around, taking in her surroundings. The library. She was in the dark stone passages of the library.

Not that room in the Lairwood House.

Home. She was home, and she must have fallen asleep reading…

She looked down beside her at the spell book and the other book. Then she looked over her shoulder at the sealed secret passage behind her.

“Scarlett,” Sorin said again, drawing her eyes to his. He was crouched before her, his face carefully neutral, but she could see the wariness in his eyes.

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