Page 4 of Unraveled
Would I prefer to remain in the safety of a magically protected building? Yes. But I can’t lose Irene...
If someone in my family is going to be hurt by a beast this night, it has to be me. I’m the rule breaker, the eldest. I promised Father I would protect her, no matter what. Even though she is a competent twenty-one-year-old woman, to me, she will always be the child with large brown eyes and frizzy hair.
The city’s familiar stench of sewage, oil from the gas lamps, and the crispness of the early winter night surrounds me as I run down the street in the darkness. Something else lingers in the air, however, different from what I’m used to. A sweet humidity seeping into my clothes and dampening my skin. It’s the forest trickling into the city through the hole in the veil.
I haven’t been out of Penumbra since my family moved here twenty years ago, and I remember little of the outside world. But the clean scent of the forest lures me in. A call to safety, even if that’s a foolish notion, since magical beasts hunt those grounds.
Penumbra comprises a circular net of cobbled streets and narrow sidewalks, connecting the library to the other mainbuildings in town. The scientist quarters and city hall are as magnificent as the library, and together they form a triangle in the city’s heart.
I rush down the uneven steps toward the main road and stumble over the last few when my feet tangle in the length of my cloak. Catching my breath, I scan for the predator. Some of the tension in my shoulders eases as I find my surroundings empty. Other than the trash skittering over the ground, I’m utterly alone.
Even if it’s rare for multiple beasts to break through the veil and into the city at once, there have been occasions in the last five years when they’ve managed. I shudder, remembering the bald, grayish skin that sags around their necks. Or the milky-red gaze that was so similar to my father’s blood...
The alarm bells are loud, and pain bursts in my ears, pulling me out of my memories. I have no time to mourn my father right now. All I can do is try my best to not lose my sister at the hands of another beast.
Downtown, homes and businesses made of bricks and light-colored mortar stand wall-to-wall against one another. Their old wooden shutters bang open and shut in the unusual breeze, and the screeching of hinges is loud enough to be heard even over the alarm.
“Stop!”
I freeze and turn around in the darkness, searching for the source of the warning call. A man stands on the flat roof of a nearby tower. He’s a silhouette, but he stands next to a bell. A night guard wearing silver armor.
“You don’t want to go that way. A beast flew in toward the center of town!” The dim gas lanterns barely illuminate his hand as he points toward where I’m headed.
“I know,” I say, though I’m certain he can’t hear a word. Not with the surrounding noise, or how his ears must be ringing since he was banging on metal to warn the citizens of danger.
I resume my run before he says much else, choosing alleyways to find cover. I’m not so foolish to assume the beast is sentient enough to know the scientist quarters keep the veil up. But the elders taught me to follow my gut, for magic seldom lies.
I know this part of town like the back of my hand. A network of asymmetrical pathways leading to the plaza next to Irene’s work. Steam rises from the ground as my boots splash stagnant water over my stockings. I spot the building as I exit the alleyway. The door is grand and forged in iron. Unlike the library’s uneven staircase of beige-and-gray marble, this building’s front entrance is machined almost to perfection.
The air burns my throat as I push my body harder and run across the road, hoping the shadows of the night shield my red cloak from view.
I take the steps two at a time, and my calves scream with exertion. Not even the noise of the bells, which drown out all else, can hide the explosion coming from above. I duck for cover, tucking my body under the archway over the front door. I turn my face to the sky, and the previously thin cracks in the veil expand; the gaps grow larger, stretching rapidly across the dome of magic.
My skin turns cold as the same winged black shape circles over the building, magic enveloping him in a shield of gold. He can cast the type of spells most people fear, and they’re unlike anything I’ve ever seen.
A ray of light shoots from his extended arm, and the white energy of the veil stutters.
Usually, the beasts are mindless, hungering only to take a human away to the forest. He is a bird of prey, weakening ouronly defense against the lot of them. Soon enough, we’ll be drowning in a sea of creatures. Unless we stop him.
This is why I’ve broken the librarian’s code of sorcery and studied the forbidden spells no one else dares to look at.
The doors of the scientist quarters are locked from the inside, and while that alone should deter me from entering, my sister is in there. And I won’t let another beast take a member of my family without fighting back.
I’ve known there would come a time when I’d need to be brave, strong—daring. And I feel those things as I reach for the polished red stone of my amulet; it lights up under my touch and whispers a question in my head. Not with words, but feelings. It wants to know what I desire.
I was not born with magic like the fae, or even like the sorcerers from the outside world. We librarians have borrowed power, lent to us by the grimoires we keep.
I hope my borrowed magic is enough to let me in. The unraveling spell leaves my lips as if I’ve used it many times before. I haven’t.
Never use a spell out in the open. One of the many vows I took when I ascended. And I’m sure it’s one I will break again by the night’s end.
The door clicks and slowly swings open with a squeak. I enter the building, and the ground shakes beneath my feet with a new explosion. Waves of golden magic hover over the polished floor as a large iron chandelier right over my head waves in the air like a pendulum. It screeches a warning to move away.
“Hello?” I step over the debris scattered across the floor and away from the chandelier’s drop zone. The staircase spirals down from several floors above, opening wide at the far end of the room.
I shout again. “Irene?”
The place is desolate, as one would expect during a blood moon. Flickering lantern light casts an orange hue over the otherwise colorless space.
