Page 86 of Tusks, Tails & Teacakes
Lira didn’t take her gaze off the man. “What are you doing here, Malek?”
He raised a pale hand and flicked his bony fingers at the wall. “I’ve come for this, of course.”
Lira suppressed a shudder, certain that the cellar was even colder than usual with Malek there. The mage might not be dead, but she wasn’t entirely sure he was living either.
“What isthis?” Lira asked. She wasn’t going to give him an inch. She knew Malek too well, knew that he was skilled at extracting information.
“The book with the moonstone on the cover, of course. And the gold. I won’t lie and say I won’t enjoy the gold.”
Despite Lira’s talent at deception, she couldn’t stop her mouth from falling open. How did he know about the book?
Malek appeared bored as he released a sigh. “You only ever talked about a few things in your sleep, you know, and one of them was your gran’s recipe book with the moonstone on the cover.” He gave her a silky smile that almost seemed real. “Of course, you believed it to be a simple book of recipes, didn’t you? I don’t think you had any idea that books of that description were only created by the old magical guilds and only bestowed on mages.”
For the hundredth time since she’d discovered the truth, she’d wished her gran had told her all this. She wished she wasn’t learning this from Malek, of all people.
Instead of talking about the book, Lira locked eyes with him. “What happened to you, Malek? I thought you were dead. Weallthought you were dead.”
Instead of answering, Malek shook his head, and limp strands of ebony hair swung across his face. “You were all so scared of me doing dark magic. You were sure it would ruin everything, but it didn’t. Don’t you see?”
All Lira could see was that he’d wasted away as the dark magic had twisted him from within.
His head snapped up and the black beads of his eyes pinned her. “Itwas dark magic that saved me, dark magic that kept me alive in the sea, dark magic that revived me when my friends abandoned me.”
“We didn’t abandon you.” Lira’s voice cracked as she remembered that night on the cliff. “I tried to save you. Don’t you remember?”
His dead eyes bore into her. “All I remember is pain, and when I finally emerged from it, I was alone.”
Her heart constricted, the loneliness in his words palpable. “If we’d known—”
“You were never truly my friends, were you? You only used me for my talents and tossed me aside.”
“That’s not true.” Lira was vaguely aware of Iris rousing Cali on the floor nearby.
A faraway look danced across Malek’s contorted face. “You know, Pirrin said the same thing.”
Icy talons of fear pierced Lira’s heart. Malek had killed Pirrin. Regret stabbed through Lira as she thought of her ranger friend dying at the hands of someone they’d all trusted. If she knew Pirrin, he’d believed in Malek until the end.
“It doesn’t matter. None of it matters anymore.” Malek slid his gaze from her as if he found her presence tiresome. “Once I have a proper spell book, I won’t have to hunt for spells like a beggar looking for scraps.”
The thought of Malek using her gran’s book curdled her stomach. “My gran’s book won’t have dark magic. She wasn’t that kind of mage.”
“You don’t know what she was.”
Each word that Malek spat out hit Lira like a blow to the body. He was right. She didn’t know what kind of magic her gran had practiced or what was in her book, but she knew her gran had never been like this, had never used magic for evil. She couldn’t let a mage twisted by dark magic get his hands on her book.
“The book doesn’t belong to you, Malek.”
He raised an amused brow at her. “What are you going to do, Lira? I know you don’t have any elven powers.”
“But I’m not alone like you are.”
Malek looked from her to Iris and Cali on the ground. “Well, our archer friend is indisposed, and I doubt the old lady will be much help.”
“But we might be.”
Lira swallowed a grateful sob as Korl and Vaskel stepped into the light. Sass was only a step behind them with Crumpet riding on her shoulder.
Malek’s lips curled briefly at the sight of Vaskel, but then his placid mask snapped back into place. “This is quite the assemblage.”
