Page 224 of Wings of Ash & Flame
Sweat gathered at the nape of her neck despite the evening’s cool air. Alaire quickened her pace as the towering spires of Eclat Castle came into view, dense fog curling around the building like grasping fingers.
She clutched the strap of her bag tighter as it thumped against her back.What if I’m wrong? What if it’s only an old book? What if it’s not there?
But that pull inside her—the same one that had led her to Solflara, to the ruby ring, to the memories of the Star of Eternal Night—stirred in her chest. She had to be on to something.
Her footsteps echoed across the marble floors, ricocheting down empty hallways. Fixing her gaze ahead, she pushed on. Almost there.
At last, she reached Ross’s office. Her hand hovered over the brass handle, hesitating.
“The only way to know is to open that door,Alaire.”
She took a deep breath. “You’re right.”
Gritting her teeth, she pushed the door open.
The scent of aged leather and ink filled her lungs, mingling with a faint trace of pipe smoke. Orbs flared to life as she entered.
Books lined the right side of the ornate desk, a colossal slab of wood carved with curling flora. Across its surface, only unused parchment waited. The drawers held nothing out of place. Even the hidden compartment was empty.
Floor-to-ceiling shelves stretched along the far wall.
Dropping her satchel to the floor, she moved toward the towering rows. Her fingers hovered over the spines, searching for the one that had stuck with her.
She turned back to the window.Light reveals where to look. Shafts of moonlight cut across the shelves, glinting off the gilt lettering. She started there.
“Come on. Where are you?” she muttered, pulling volumes one after another, dust clinging to her fingertips. She wiped them against her leathers and began pacing.
Think. He left you a clue. He wanted you to find it.
Her heart thundered. She was sure the window was the key. She’d even checked the books where the orb light fell. Nothing.
“The shadow remembers what we forget… but light reveals where to look,” she repeated, scanning the shelves desperately.
A low hum vibrated through the air.
Alaire spun.
The window rippled.
Her eyes widened as the glass shimmered, the night sky dissolving like ink in a basin.
When the ripples stilled, she saw it—an image she thought she’d only ever see again in memory.
Rows of grand windows flooded a vast space with golden daylight. Ivory shelves, trimmed with gilt edges, stretched into a vaulted ceiling with frescoes of phoenixes and Aurelia’s history painted above.
Alaire’s breath caught.
Her favorite room, the Dawnspire library, alive again before her eyes—untouched by destruction, war, or time.
The illusion zoomed through the aisles until it stopped at an unfamiliar section. Nestled between volumes was the book:A Chronicle of Shadows: The Forgotten Histories of Elithian.
Her pulse quickened as she raised a hand toward the glass. Professor Ross had left this for her, hidden within magic that tethered her past to the present.
A deep breath steadied her trembling fingers before she reached into the illusion and pulled the book free. The moment her hand touched the worn leather, the vision fractured. The golden glow dissolved into the night sky.
“You did it,” Solflara said in awe.
Alaire exhaled slowly, clutching the book to her chest before lowering herself into Professor Ross’s chair. When she opened the first page, she found a handwritten note sprawled in rushed cursive:
