Page 110 of Feathers of Ash and Hope

I’m sitting in my usual spot, biding my time trying to read, and a smile steals on my face when I sense Tate’s signature warmth coming closer.

I focus on the signatures around me and notice someone else heading in my direction. Something about the magic is strange.

I close my eyes and concentrate on it. It’s heading in my direction, but I can’t say I’ve encountered it before, and it’s strong.

I open my eyes, expecting to see a light moving toward me. But there is nothing, only darkness.

A shiver runs down my back. Why is someone slinking through the library in the dark?

This is nothing but a veiled execution.Vega’s words concerning my punishment run through my mind. Could it be?

The book drops from my suddenly numb fingers, and I don’t care about the loud thump reverberating through the silence around me.

You’re overreacting,I tell myself. But it does nothing to slow my erratic heartbeat.

My hands shake as I turn down the lamp next to me until it flickers and finally dies. Darkness surrounds me, and I feel like I’m floating in a void. The magic signatures are my only anchors. Like tiny stars, they move around me, two of them heading in my direction.

I jump up and use my hands and memory to navigate. Treading carefully to muffle my steps, I make my way to the bookshelves, but my progress is painfully slow.

Tate’s magic is my focal point. Spreading my arms to touch the walls of books next to me, I hurry up my steps, going as fast as I dare while zigzagging blindly through small corridors.

My breath catches in my throat when I realize the signature is following me, coming closer.

How is that possible?

I abandon all caution and start running, no longer trying to be quiet.

Tate strides down one of the bigger pathways straight ahead. If I get to him before whoever is chasing me catches up, I’m safe.

I close in from the side and chance a look back before I hurl myself right into Tate’s path.

I barely step out between the dark shelves before being slammed into the next one. The air leaves my lungs in a rush, and the pain in my back and ribs makes it hard to draw the next one.

Tate’s forearm presses me into the books behind me, and the cool metal of a knife rests against my skin. He dropped his lamp when I rushed him, so we are standing in total darkness.

Shit, I didn’t take into account that he didn’t know I was coming.

Despite the pain in my back and the blade at my throat, Tate’s closeness makes me feel safe.

I struggle to catch my breath while I search the area around us. The signature is gone.

Chapter

Thirty-One

TATE

My thoughts areon Ara while I’m on my way to the library. Nothing new there, but I’m worried. Ever since I caught her talking to Cassius and then handed her the letter, she’s seemed off and on edge.

It also pisses me off that she potentially spoke to Cassius about it but doesn’t say a peep to me.

Eight days on patrol also gave me too much time to think about all the possibilities. We nearly lost Zaza today, and just the thought of what might have happened if Ara had been with us makes me sick.

I have had enough of tiptoeing around. I won’t give up until she answers my fucking questions and spills whatever is bothering her.

The library is dark and quiet. I grab a lamp from the front desk, nodding at the librarian standing there, and head intothe labyrinth of bookshelves, already planning how to coax information out of Ara.

The pounding of running steps is the only warning I get before someone jumps out of the shadows of a narrow pathway. I drop the lamp, swipe a dagger, and press the other person into the shelves without thinking twice.

---