Page 57 of Unraveled
The beasts don’t attack Finley like they did yesterday, even though he’s human. A sorcerer, but human. I study his wide back, round ears peeking out from under the soft curls of his light hair.
Pedestals stand on either side of us as we go under a wooden arch covered in roses. But unlike the ones in the castle, these roses are slumbering for the winter. Not magical, not unnaturally alive.
The blackwood stables impose over the surrounding area. Finley walks ahead of Nera and me, lifting his arms in front of himself as he mutters under his breath. I smell the magic before I see it bursting around us. My hair stands on end with static, and the ring on his finger glows green as the gates swing open.
A sorcerer’s amulet—like the one I used to have.
When I was little, I asked my mother if she was a sorcerer in hiding. If not, why did she have the necklace? But she swore to me that she only had it because my grandmother gave it to her. That she had no magic. I don’t know if I believe her anymore.
“Wait here while I get everything ready,” Finley says, and disappears into the darkness as I wrinkle my nose at the distinct stench of hay and animal droppings lingering around us.
Finley rolls a carriage made of elegant, round shapes out of a stall. The massive winged creatures he attaches to the front could’ve been horses in a past life. Their coats are a shiny black that almost blends with the carriage, and their curious eyes glow red as they follow me.
The three of us climb inside and leave the castle grounds through an ornate gate. The wide road goes through a forest that feels infinitely gray, desolate, with spindly branches and falling leaves that float down to the ground. A thick layer of fog covers the gravel road, which at some point was packed tightly, but isn’t anymore. We ride in silence while the chill of the later morning sneaks in through the crevices of the tight space we share.
“We can’t stay in Eponde for long. The curse is heavy within the city, and being there might affect your deterioration, Nera.”
She nods absently, holding the wispy curtain to the side and pressing her forehead against the window.
“Who is guiding the carriage?” I ask after a long moment, when my curiosity—and nerves—grow thick enough I find it hard to breathe. We roll over debris on the road, and I’m certain we could crash into something at any moment.
Finley steadies himself against the wall, pinning me with his gaze. “Me.”
I try to mask my horror, but it comes through in a mess of shaky words. “But you’re inside.”
“I use magic, Mia.” A smirk pulls his thick lips. “How much did they teach you in Penumbra? You’re able to cast simple spells alongside some complex magic.”
I consider telling him the complex spells he’s referring to were not something anyone taught me. I was a rebellious fool trying to protect what was left of my family—or perhaps I was trying to prove to Irene, and myself, that I could be more than just a librarian in charge of old, magical books.
I wanted to protect others, so they didn’t have to suffer like I did when I lost my father.
Finley shifts toward me, but the carriage shakes again and I cling to the seat, my skin growing clammy and cold.
“Our drawls are like horses, and have been trained to follow the road into the city ever since they were foals, Mia. You don’t have to worry,” Nera says with a tentative smile. “Finley has to do very little guiding with his spell. We are in excellent hands.”
I feel like I should’ve known that. Because of my intense studying, I usually have the facts hiding up my sleeves. But here, I always seem to be floundering for answers left and right. I just keep saying and assuming the wrong thing. I’m not from the world of the fae, of course. How could I know these things?
But that’s too long of an answer, and I don’t want their pity. So instead, I remain silent.
“When you came into our kingdom, you called yourself a librarian. Are there more of you, and are they all able to use magic?” Finley asks.
I debate ignoring his questions, like I’ve been doing so far. But what am I gaining with secrecy? I can’t leave the fae realm unless I help Ash break his curse, and I can’t break his curse if I don’t trust them...
“There are fifty of us, including the head librarian, twenty elders who have worked in the library for decades, and twenty-nine librarians like me, who I see infrequently. Most of us canonly cast simple protective spells to keep the grimoires’ magic controlled and strengthen the wards on the building. We also are trying to find more information about the blood moon, other than what the legend says about the god Cronus meeting his fae lover during the Wild Hunt.”
“We can tell you about the blood moon, and the Hunt, if you’re still curious...” Nera says.
I shift forward in my seat, my heart hammering in my chest as I nod.
Finley throws Nera a turbulent look I can’t decipher, but she ignores it and continues talking. “The blood moon allows the fae, both the seelie and unseelie, to ride together and replenish the ancient magic we lose when we remain in the mortal lands. Since we aren’t allowed to step into the lands of the gods anymore, it’s the only way to keep magic in this world.”
So the legend is true then... The god does actually come into our lands to ride with his lover every three months.
“Only during the blood moon can someone like me bond with a spirit like Naheli, and only a royal bonded to one can take the unseelie throne.”
I let that part of his history sink in. Ash had to ride the Hunt one time to bond a spirit, and Nera was given away to the seelie so Ash could inherit his throne. In many ways, the fae are just as barbaric as I’ve been taught.
“Why take humans if it’s about regaining magic and bonding with ancient beings?” I ask.
