Page 97 of To Ashes and Dust
He settled into the seat next to me. I opened the book the sprite had given me, disappointed to find the writing all in the same unreadable text I’d seen in Moira’s Rest.
“What’s wrong?” Damien asked, lifting his face, then, he saw the writing. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t think about that. The books are all written in Elythian.”
Everybook? So much for reading. “At least there are illustrations. I can at least see if I find something that looks like it and let you read whatever it says.”
Maybe I’d be lucky enough to find more books with illustrations. I’d have to ask the librarians, and I could have Damien translate it for me or maybe even Salwa, if she wasn’t busy.
The table grew quiet as we resumed flipping through pages and pages of ancient text depicting all sorts of creatures. Hours passed, more books appearing on the table as the sprites found them. I became mesmerized by some of the illustrations. Some I recognized from fairytales, but there were many I’d never seen or heard of before.
There were mermaids—or I guess they were sirens, since they had the most terrifying teeth, webbed fingers, and tails with multiple, massive fins. The illustrations, though, made it appear like they took two forms: the first was terrifying, but the second was the most enchanting thing I’d ever seen. I learned, however, that they weren’t the scariest creatures as I came across a picture of something far more terrifying. Its fur-covered body was long and spindly, arms dangling low as it hunched over, long claws dragging across the ground, its legs shaped like the hind legs of a dog, but longer. The creature’s head looked like the skull of an animal. A horse? Maybe a deer? Its antlers were monstrous, razor-sharp teeth coated in what I assumed was blood. The illustration was so detailed, the hollow black of its eye holes practically stared through me. If I never encountered a creature like this in my life, it would be too soon. I rested my chin on my hand as I turned the page, my eyes growing heavy.
My heart stuttered.
I’d never forget that sightless gaze as it stared down at me before it nearly tore my head off my shoulders. If Damien and Barrett hadn’t pulled me from beneath it, it would have. My eyes drifted over what little writing there was, and I frowned. The bottom half of the page was torn, the lower section of the creature missing. Whatever information might’ve been written there was gone, taking with it the knowledge we so desperately sought.
“Damien,” I said, sliding the book to him.
“Ye find sommat, Cas?” James asked, and I nodded.
Damien’s brows rose, his eyes falling to the illustration. He frowned when he saw half the page missing. “Salwa, do you know this book?”
Salwa lifted her eyes and walked around to us. “That’s strange. Why is the page ripped?” She took the book, holding the place with her finger as she closed it to look at the cover.
James frowned as he stood, walking over to us as Salwa gave him room to see the page.
“It’s old, likely one of the few that survived The Darkling’s Descent. I can’t even read the title. This is probably the first time it’s been off the shelf in ages.” She opened the book again. “That’s strange; this is the only page that’s torn.”
Unease settled into her pale eyes as they lifted to us. What would that mean? Had someone torn the page out intentionally? And if so, who?
I looked to Damien. “You said not many immortals were allowed here, didn’t you?”
Damien nodded. “Very few.”
James looked at me, running his fingers through his coppery hair. “I donnae who cuid hev done ‘is. Eh sprites ur very protective o’ these books. They freaked oot oan me eh other day when ah dropped one by mistake. Ah felt terrible.”
Could one of our own have slipped into the Archivallia and taken the page? Did they do it to hide information on the creatures from us? There was still a part of me that had become almost hopeful that Cole hadn’t done everything on his own, that he’d been corrupted, like Marcus. I hated to ask, had worried just how divided we could become if we started questioning the few allies we had, but Tobias was right to be concerned.
“Could someone have broken in?” I asked.
Damien pondered. “It shouldn’t be possible. The only way to get here is through the Propylaeas in each of the Kyrios houses.”
James spoke up, saying what I couldn’t. “Do ye think it cuid be someone workin’ wi’ Cole an’ Amara? Another deserter we donnae kno’ aboot within Eh Order?”
“If we have any other immortals who’ve deserted but are working within The Order...” Damien drew a deep breath, his expression growing graver. “They could gain access, slip through to this side of the veil, and steal a page, but it would still be difficult. The astral sprites don’t sleep; they’re always working.”
I tilted my head, frowning. “It doesn’t make sense, though. Why tear out just one page? Why not just take the book?”
“Eh librarian’s wuid kno’ eh moment a book left eh Archivallia,” James explained. “They kno’ if a book or scroll’s removed from ‘is chamber. A page might go undetected tho’.”
“Sadly, there aren’t exactly cameras here, so there’s no way to know who’s come and gone,” Salwa said, her gaze falling back to the illustration. It was clear she felt the weight of what Damien had said. Another possible betrayal, but who? How could I remember each of the warriors I’d seen training at The Outpost earlier that day and not wonder now whether any of them had done this, if any of them might be working with Melantha and the darklings? Another part of me thought back to what Marcus had said. Did the immortals who’d worked alongside them truly believe that siding with the darklings would bring about some sort of revolution—a means to separate themselves from Selene? It was too much to think about on such little sleep, and a headache already lingered in the back of my head.
My eyes flickered between Salwa and the book she held, wondering what little information remained on the page. “Does it say what the creature’s called?”
“The Varyoskia,” she answered. “Also known as a Varyos.”
“Does that mean something?” I asked, glancing between her and Damien.
Damien drew a deep breath, as if he already knew what the name meant as Salwa’s pale eyes lifted to me. They wavered, as if she herself were unnerved by the creature. “The shadows that hunt.”
