Page 44 of Her Shadow so Dark and Lovely
Mercias blows out a breath of air. “There you are,” he says, before he drops to his knees and activates the sigil to close the Heart of the Library.
“Here I am,” Sila says, taking up her position beside him.
Mercias glances at her as he stands again. “Fuck, you look awful.”
“Charming,” she says, turning her attention to the Lightkeepers. “To what do we owe the displeasure?”
Their leader smiles lopsidedly at them both. I recognise his face. Once it belonged to a boy that had grown up alongside my sister. Now it belongs to a man leading an incursion into the Library. Jaime. His hair is shaved close to the scalp, his features sharp and his brown eyes are calculating.
“As we informed the Librarian here, we are following the trail of the scribe known as Lorel,” he says. His hand rests on the pommel of his blade. There’s no leather binding on it. I remember that too. There wouldn’t be— it wouldn’t last becausehe’s a fire mage. I have a distinct memory of him threatening to set my hair on fire when I was younger.
He’d been whipped for it. Back then they’d still thought the hair on my head was worth more than his flesh. I suppose he was relishing the opportunity to track me down and drag me back to the Keep as prey.
“Following a trail,” says Sila thoughtfully. She’s shifted to face them fully and I can no longer see her face, only the way she holds her body tense, as if ready to pounce. “Ah, of course. Blood magic. I suppose her sister is cooperating? How upsetting. Fortunately, you will not find that same cooperation here.” Shadow snakes around her fingertips. Mercias shifts his stance, mirroring Sila’s. I search the faces of the other two Lightkeepers. One of them, light-haired and green-eyed, smirks, his eyes bloodshot. A blood mage. I can’t imagine my sister cooperating with these people, but sheisone of the King’s inner circle. Deception and contrivance are a matter of life and death. If my death ensured her own life? Well…loyalty is rare to come by in the pit of snakes that is the Keep.
“We only intend to take the scribe into custody. Ask her a few questions,” Jaime says, trying to sound amiable. Trying to sound like he’s being reasonable after he’s clearly used the dead Librarian as a cover to sneak into places he has no right to be.
“On what grounds?” growls Mercias.
“That’s privileged information, I’m afraid,” Jaime replies.
“Hardly a convincing line,” Sila says darkly.
“Look, if you insist on resisting?—”
“What I insist on is you leaving,” snaps Sila. My little scribe heart quails. I even catch Mercias flinching. “You have no authority here?—”
“I have the authority invested in the Lightkeepers by the Dawn King himself,” Jaime cuts in.
The blood mage shoots him an alarmed look.Interesting.
“No, you don’t. Because if you did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation over the dead bodies of our peers,” Sila says.
Jaime rolls his eyes, turning away from Sila to the blood mage. “Is she still here?” he demands.
“Yes,” the blood mage whispers. “So close I can practically taste her.”
“Your own blood will coat your tongue before I allow you near her,” Sila snarls.
“Librarian tricks.” Jaime spits on the ground.
I stare at him, aghast. Even Orielle hasn’t done something that disrespectful before. The absolute nerve of him. “There’s only one way to deal with this. Bar the door, get rid of them.”
No. Fear scratches at my heart, a fluttering bat trying to get free. The third Lightkeeper moves to close the door, her hands already forming the sigil to lock it fast.
The door closes itself before she can finish, and the Lightkeeper barely has a chance to look around before a dagger is burying itself in her throat. She falls to the floor, blood bubbling from the wound as the blade dissolves into shadow.
Chapter 26
Lorel
As the dyingLightkeeper hits the floor, chaos erupts. Jaime and the blood mage move swiftly. A wave of heat washes over me as fire bursts from Jaime’s hands. He doesn’t need the simple sigils of everyday magic, not when he has command of the potential burning energy in the air. Sila counters it with her own darkness, smothering it. I can feel the way the shadows around me pull, as if it’s costing her to keep me hidden. I grit my teeth and tug, but the shadows don’t give. Perhaps it’s for the best. I could hardly be useful even if I were free.
Jaime’s sword lights up with flame as he arcs it through the air to slash at Sila. Mercias moves to meet him, and the blade glances off a shield of darkness. Mercias pushes the Lightkeeper back and Sila follows, catching Jaime’s arm with her blade, the two of them moving in a well-practised rhythm of strikes and parries. Mercias’ form flickers, never in one place for too long as Sila’s shadow self surges around him. Jaime keeps himself between the blood mage and his opponents.
My heart hammers in my chest. Mercias catches the Lightkeeper’s arm as Sila tries to snare it with shadow. Therot sets into Jaime’s skin where Mercias’ hand touches. Jaime’s sword clatters to the ground and I think for a moment that perhaps things won’t go so badly after all. The moment is broken as Jaime draws a knife from his hip and slashes it across Mercias’ chest.
“Fuck,” Mercias hisses, letting go. It’s a shallow wound, barely anything to remark upon, and then Jaime lifts the knife dripping in Mercias’ blood and throws it to the floor by the blood mage.
