Page 153 of The Moon's Fury
Zarian made creeping through alleys look like an art form. He melded seamlessly with the night, his footsteps silent. She followed close behind him, the shadow of his shadow until they reached the back of the Grand Libraries, closed for the day. The structure was massive, rivaling Alzahra Palace in size.
Large, golden domes gleamed in the moonlight. Arched doorways were edged in a purple so deep, it looked black in the dark of night. Latticed walls with intricate patterns cast crisscrossing shadows across the neatly paved ground.
They waited until the guards changed shifts and ducked in through a narrow door. Her heart beat frantically in her chest, though it was anticipation that flowed through her veins.
She was so close to getting the answers she sought.
The corridors were dark and lined with bookshelves, and the air smelled of stale parchment. As they crept down the hallway,Zarian suddenly pushed her into a narrow side corridor, covering her with his cloaked body.
She held her breath.
She didn’t dare move.
A man walked past, long, dark robes brushing the stone floor.
Ten loud heartbeats later, they continued on, passing walls and walls of books and parchments and scrolls. How did the scholars keep track of the books? There had to be some system of organization.
Soraya would have loved it here.
She shoved that thought away.
Eventually, Zarian stopped at an unassuming wall, no different from any of the others. He pressed firmly against three books, the titles worn on their spines. There was a loud creak that had them scanning the hallway frantically.
The bookshelf came free.
Zarian pried it back from the wall enough for her to fit through, and he quickly followed.
“Is this the Medjai’s library?” she whispered.
“Yes and no,” he whispered back, grabbing a torch from the wall. They walked down a short, narrow hallway until a staircase appeared before them, leading down into darkness. “This area isn’t exclusive to the Medjai. The high-level Scholars store important texts here, knowledge not meant for everyone.”
“Like what?” she asked as they descended the stairs.
“War treaties dating back centuries requiring women as reparations. Scrolls documenting the slave trade. The violent parts of the kingdom’s history. Sleeping potions and poisons. But yes, a large section is used by the Medjai.”
“The high-level Scholars know the Medjai house their texts here?”
“Yes,” he said, glancing back. “The same way your father and Ebrahim knew of the secret library beneath Alzahra’s palace. Except they didn’t have their own secrets to keep.”
They finally reached the bottom of the staircase.
Her breath caught in her throat.
She hadn’t known what to expect, but it certainly wasn’tthis.
It was massive. The domed ceiling towered above them, ancient stone walls lined with fewer torches than needed to light the shadowy space. Doors sporadically lined the walls, each one likely leading to a different hidden path. Bags of sand were stacked in odd corners, and tall bookshelves dominated the center of the sprawling room.
They each grabbed a lantern.
“Let’s split up,” she said. “It’ll be faster.”
Zarian looked as if he wanted to argue, but he surprisingly didn’t. “The Medjai scrolls are toward that side.” He gestured to the back left wall.
They quickly set to work. Layna started at the bookshelf closest to the stairs while Zarian took the one at the end, planning to meet in the middle.
She held the lantern up to the shelves, quickly scanning the worn titles, searching for the Medjai emblem. Somewhere within this vast fortress of hidden knowledge, there had to be an answer—some clue to help her reclaim her powers. Because if not here, in this place built on secrets and truth, then she had nowhere left to turn.
An Abridged History of the Gundaari.
