Page 72 of The Court of Truth

“I’m impressed. I almost thought you were going to give me some fake speech about how fabulous he was,” I muse, watching as his eyes widen in surprise like I didn’t just say that I wanted no comparison to the man in question.

“I mean, if we’re being specific, he was magical, a true master of his abilities, but his desires were always aligned with him and his own selfish needs.” I want to grumble at the praise aimed at my father, but I can’t deny that the words are true. He was—is—a master of his skills, but just as Morgan said, he’s a selfish prick too.

“What do you want to see happen around here?” I ask, and his eyes crinkle with the tilt of his lips.

“The same thing as you, Sir. We deserve to thrive. Not just to help others, but to help ourselves.”

Truth.

I may not be able to read the body language of someone with heightened senses like my friends, but I know how else to seek the truth from someone. It’s impressive that he’s not trying to say and do things to appease me because of my new rank and title.

“I’m afraid what I’m here for is the subject of a difficult matter, Morgan. One I can’t find despite my efforts, but one that also comes with concerns, potent consequences, and a list of so many unknowns they leave me worried,” I admit, talking in riddles, but he nods along.

“That’s what these books are here for, Sir. The mind of a mage must be filled with knowledge, and where better to find it than in these pages? They’ve been here for as long as time can remember. We honor our work, our facts and truths, and when the paper wears thin and the spines are broken, we rewrite them again and again and again to preserve not only our history, but our future.”

It’s almost poetic.

“The work here has always brought me wonder,” I admit, smiling at the man who still could do with taking a step or two back out of my personal space. “Before I became the Master of Mages, and before I attended Heir Academy, I always thought I would end up here, a scribe, rewriting history of our people,” I muse, and his eyes beam with a sense of pride.

“If you ever change your mind, you know where we are,” he says with a wink before waving the book in his hand at me. “I had just finished renewing this one. That’s why I’m here. What subject is it you’re looking for, Brody? Maybe I can help.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him, but the use of my actual name seals the deal further.

“It’s not positive, Morgan. Not even a little, but learning of the matters may help us piece together a positive end result.” I still make no sense, but he pushes the glasses up the bridge of his nose as he stands taller.

“I’m here to help.”

“I need anything and everything on all matters of dark magic. If we want to save the kingdom, I believe our lives depend on it.” My words hang in the air, dancing and twirling as Morgan blinks.

Just… blinks.

He doesn’t rush to tell me no such thing exists. He doesn’t brush me off and kick me out for good measure. He just… blinks.

Seconds morph into minutes as we remain frozen in place until he slaps his hand against the book in his hand. “Brody, I don’t believe you’re anything like your father.”

“I can’t promise that to be entirely true, but I can guarantee our purpose in life, goals, and attributions have never and will never align.”

“Your answer only makes me like you more.”

That’s great and all, but can you help or not?

I sink my teeth into my tongue, biting back the words desperate to edge him along, until he finally takes a step back and waves for me to follow him. He scurries to the end of the aisle, turning left and hurrying to the back wall. As he comes to a stop in the middle of the section, I sigh, acutely aware that I’ve looked here too many times myself already to have missed anything.

My lips part, ready to tell him just that, but his eyes meet mine before I can speak. He reaches for a worn black leather book, tilting it toward him with a sparkle in his eyes, and the sound of a lock clicking doesn’t come from the far door this time, it comes from right in front of us.

“Brody, I need you to know that when we step through this passageway, you will be my Master of Mages. That’s the reason I’m granting you access. Because I believe in you, like I always hoped to believe in your father. Don’t let me down the way he did.”

“Morgan?” I ask, my mind whirling as he releases the book to press against the bookcase itself, and I watch as the entire thing shifts, revealing a dark, secluded room on the other side.

“Master of Mages, let me introduce you to the restricted section.”

41

ADRIANNA

Ihurry down the hallway, my cell phone clutched in my hand for once. The text message still lights up the screen.

Brody: I don’t care where you are, what you’re doing, get your ass to the royal council meeting room ASAP. The Master of Mages is about to deliver!

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