Page 22 of Unraveled
“Yes. Especially those of us with magic. Mages, sorcerers”—he pauses long enough that I turn back to look at him—“librarians... take your pick.”
“The art of sorcery is dead, it doesn’t exist anymore...” I whisper, and immediately press my hand to my parched lips, horrified the words made it out. I’m so tired—hurting and afraid. My filter is long gone.
I’ve spent the better part of the last five years of my life studying old grimoires written by sorcerers. Wishing I could wield my magic like they once did.
“In Penumbra, maybe. But out here in the world, our race is very much alive.”
It takes us a long time, due to my slow pace, to climb three floors before Finley takes a turn down a new hall. I can’t help but gawk at the roses as they grow thicker the farther up we go, fully covering old paintings and furniture. Their scent surrounds us as we walk a narrow corridor lined with doors but no windows.
The size of this place makes me numb in a way the cold hasn’t. I’m not even sure how I could find my way out of here before someone found me.
“Is Ash the king of the beasts?” I ask, wanting to fill in the silence but not expecting an answer. Finley fishes a ring of skeleton keys out of his cloak’s pocket, and uses one to unlock a door that’s the same deep green as his clothes.
My palms sweat as my new prison cell comes into view. It’s massive, with high ceilings and a large crystal chandelier hanging over the bed.
Finley strolls in, and the candles light in succession with a spike of his magic. Then, he turns to the fireplace in the corner, and swirls of green power burst out of his hand and toward the old, moldy wood lying there.
My arms hang limp on either side of my body as I follow him, taking in the grand space, bigger than the bottom floor of my townhouse.
“Why am I here? Why did Ash take me? At least tell me something before you lock me in.”
He tugs at one of the velvet drapes with a lot more strength than closing a curtain would need. When he nods, I can breathe.
“Alright, Mia. I’m sure you know what the lunargyres do every blood moon.”
How could I not?
“Well, like the lunargyres, the moon compels Ash to hunt for a human. Now, he usually ignores the call, but tonight, something was different.”
“Because I used my magic on him?” I drag a finger over the dressing table, leaving a trail through the thick dust. No one has been in this room in ages. “So, is he the king?”
Finley stares but doesn’t answer. Instead, he opens his healing case, fishes out three vials of a dark red potion, and places them on the table. “Take this later in the morning to help with pain. Someone will bring you food.”
I take in the rest of the room and the plants in each corner. The roses aren’t as massive as the ones in the halls, but they still reach the ceiling. There aren’t many blooms here, just a couple—and while they’re clearly a magical flower, I can’t help but like them.
My eyes drop to the bed. I could try to escape as he leaves, but I know—like he does—that there’s no way I could run all the way to Penumbra with my injuries.
“If anything happens, and I meananything, there’s a bell beside your bed. This is my wing, and my bedroom is not too far.” Finley picks up his case from the ground and walks toward the door, turning before he steps out to say, “I don’t know how much you know of the lunargyres, Mia, but tonight—and for the next three days—they will be active. Please, try to stay and rest. Escaping won’t end well for you.”
Chapter 9
I openmy eyes to the wide ceiling above. Gray light pours through the windows and into my new prison, catching on every dusty surface and the cobwebs accumulated in the corners.
I thought this was all a terrible nightmare. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time I dreamed of beasts falling from the sky. Of death...
My lips tremble, and it takes all my strength to not break down.
The mural on the ceiling depicts vines and dark-colored flowers wrapping around the gray stone beams. I blink again and my vision clears. It’s not a painting, but roses, like the ones I saw earlier.
Something damp drags over the side of my arm, and warm air blooms over the wet spot. My gaze snaps down to meet four glowing amber eyes staring out from blackish-purple fur.
I slam into the cushioned headboard and scream so loud something in my throat tears. A horse— No, a wolf the size of a horse stands by my side. A beast on four legs, with two long bushy tails that swish through the air. Light swims around its body like twinkling fireflies.
I’m paralyzed. The bitter taste of fear coats my tongue. I follow the wolf’s movements as it approaches me. Sniffs the blankets over my legs. Steps closer, pressing its heavy snout to my arm.
A cry leaves my parched lips, and adrenaline blurs the edges of my panic as I jump out to the other side of the bed, reaching for the dagger that I usually keep on my nightstand. Of course, it isn’t there. This isn’t my bedroom at home, and I dropped my weapon in the forest last night.
I grip at a candelabra that sits on the table and wave it in front of myself. “Stand back. I don’t want to hurt you, but I—will.” My voice cracks, and I don’t know why I’m talking to the beast. It’s not like it will listen to me, and if it’s like the lunargyres in the forest, it wouldn’t care even if it did.
