Page 47 of The Wolf and the Chimera
As I approached the desk, Ryder warned, “Elle.”
“We’re here for answers, aren’t we?” I asked.
He sighed and followed me to the wide desk. It was oddly mundane. Stationary, wolf statues, and writing utensils adorned the dark, wooden surface.
“Don’t touch it,” Ryder said. “There’s nothing useful on it.”
He wandered back to the shelves, but I hesitated. I searched every groove of wood across the desk’s surface, but I couldn’t find a discrepancy. My focus shifted to the drawers. Each was adorned by golden handles so shiny, reflections gleamed in their depths. I crouched in front of them and ogled the obvious display of wealth.
The middle drawer’s handle reflected nothing.
No,I realized.It just doesn’t showmyreflection.
Rows of ancient tomes were reflected on the handle’s surface. I glanced behind me and found what I had seen before—a wooden wall adorned by nothing more than a painting of an older werewolf who shared Lyall’s harsh bone structure and empty-eyed smile. Swallowing, I grasped the drawer’s cool handle and pulled.
The drawer’s handle clicked, and hinges groaned behind me. I stood and turned, then watched in amazement as the wall swung inward. Lights flickered on and revealed shelves of tomes.
“Gods,” I whispered.
Ryder was at my side in an instant. Shock slackened his jaw.
“I guess there was something on the desk after all,” he mused.
Together, we walked into the hidden alcove. Dust, ink, and paper scented the air. Most of the shelves were stuffed with thick books, but the higher ones held rolls of paper so thin, I worried that with one touch, they would disintegrate. Magic buzzed in the air and raised the hair on the back of my neck.
I searched the titles of the books, but none of the words were in English, Italian, Spanish, or any other language Irecognized. One of them, however, caught my attention.
A chimera was emblazoned on its spine.
I balked at the creature on the binding, which so closely resembled my beastly form, from its glowing red eyes, lion’s head, goat legs, and bat wings, to its serpent tail. I reached for the book, but the shelf was too tall for me to grasp it. Ryder realized what I wanted and wordlessly grabbed the tome for me.
When he pried open its pages, dust plumed in the air, and we coughed. Once my throat was clear, I studied the unrecognizable symbols on the page.
“What language is this?” he asked.
I sighed in disappointment. “I have no idea.”
I peeled open the next page, and my spirits lifted. Notes—written in English—were scrawled into the margins.
“Creatures of incredible power,” I read aloud. Some of the ink had been smudged, and I squinted to read it. “Traces of their power and depictions of their beastly forms found in the earliest history of our world.”
Ryder pointed to another annotation. “Chimeras—the first known shifters.”
We balked at each other.
My mind raced. “But the High Witch and Lyall said I’m just a reincarnation of the sorceress’s power.”
Ryder turned to the next page, but nothing in English was written. He turned to another, then another. This one included a diagram of a chimera shifting from its beastly form into its human form. Ryder turned the next page, and it contained the same diagram, except a slew of faceless beings perched above the shifting chimera, each with strings attached to the beast and the human form.
“Because of their immense power,” I read from the margin, “they were targeted as vessels for the gods.”
“Elle,” Ryder whispered. “Your kind wasn’t always controlled by more powerful beings.”
At some point, chimeras were free.
My heart and mind raced.
What gods had targeted us?
