Page 101 of The War of Wings
What a turn of events.
“Are you sure you know where we’re going?” I whispered.
“I know these tunnels like the back of my hand. How else do you think I’d sneak out as a boy?” He pointed out each almost invisible doorway as we passed, their outlines so well hidden in the lines of mortar between stones, I couldn’t have picked them out if I tried. The west ballroom. The kitchens. The lower entrance to the Queen’s servants’ quarters. One of dozens of guest bedrooms.
I was a fool for questioning the unassuming wall we stopped in front of, because as soon as Ludovicus located the latch, the smell of leather and dust hit me. Satisfied the coast was clear, he pushed through the door and we emerged at the back of the library. We were somewhere in the stacks, my head sodisoriented that I had no choice but to trust he knew where he was going.
“I suppose you would’ve found this book eventually,” he whispered as we crept between the shelves. “But this is better.”
Ludovicus’ nerves must’ve rubbed off on me, because I found myself glancing over my shoulder as we finally turned in between two stacks. He knew exactly where to find it, nodding to himself when he pulled it from its spot.
Theories in Advanced Weaponry, by Sir Tarwick Cateaux.
I opened my mouth to remind Ludovicus that the only weapon that could kill Malosym was me, but before I could speak, he was moving again.
“I’m so glad it was here,” he said quietly after we pushed back through the hidden door. We both lowered ourselves to the dusty ground of the tunnel. The book’s spine crackled when Ludovicus pulled back the front cover, and I conjured a spark on my fingertip to illuminate the pages. “I purchased it when I was studying in Taitha, and when my father cleared the house we were staying in, this must’ve come back in one of my trunks. Mother must’ve been the one to sort through my things, because she wouldn’t have thrown away a book.” He flipped through the pages worn with creases. Lines of text had been underlined and circled, the margins scribbled in on every other page. “I’d forgotten all about it until you mentioned your…predicament. Okay, here,” he said, turning the book around and placing it on the floor in front of me.
I peered forward, reading the words out loud. “The great warrior Gisar of Arnen infamously lost his life at the top of Mount Centus when his outstretched sword was struck by an errant bolt of lightning,” I recited. A name and place I’d never heard before. “The current from the lightning traveled through his blade and entered his body, effectively burning him from the inside out. When Gisar’s body was recovered for burial, his comrades were unsuccessful in their attempts to remove his blade, as every time they came in contact with its hilt, thecurrent traveled into their body, causing immediate death. The sword still remains atop Mount Centus.” I looked up at Ludovicus, finding expectant eyes. “Okay,” I said carefully. “I don’t know who Gisar is or where Mount Centus is. Are you suggesting we go there?”
“No,” Ludovicus answered, placing one finger in the margin, pointing to a handwritten note I hadn’t noticed before. I squinted at the looping script.
Power stayed behind in sword. Can weapon be imbued with other power?
I glanced up to Ludovicus, whose eyes were intent on me. “What are you suggesting?”
“During my studies in Taitha, when I first started noticing something was wrong with me, I read that story. I fixated on it for some reason. Maybe it was genuine curiosity, or maybe it was the darkness taking root inside of me. Either way, the story stuck with me, and one day when I was in the forge, I thought I’d put it to the test. But I had no way to imbue a sword with the darkness inside me.” His eyes were cautious, moving from the single flame that burned at my fingertip to my face. “You can conjure your power easily, yes?”
“Easily enough.”
“There’s a forge in the slums. I knew the owner long ago, but I overheard when I arrived here that he’d died. Had a son young enough that he has no idea who I am, and I bet if I pay him, he’ll let us have the forge for a day. Maybe there’s something we can do. Maybe… Maybe it doesn’t have to be you who kills Malosym. Maybe you don’t have to die.”
I stared back at Ludovicus, at what now shone in his eyes. “I thought you told me not to have hope yet.”
“I only have hope because I can tell you do.”
Chapter 40
Cal
When I returned from my training session this morning, I found a bed that was completely empty except for a single piece of parchment.
Spending some time alone before questioning Malosym again. Be back tonight. I love you.
-P
I’d taken a deep breath when I found it, swallowing down the sense of dread that surged at the thought of Petra alone.She can take care of herself,I thought.And she can do it a hell of a lot better than you can.It was better like this anyway, because I didn’t want her anywhere near Miles if I could help it.
Now, I stood in the courtyard, watching my brother pace back and forth as the last rays of the sun cast the sandstonecastle in shades of gold. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d worn a hole in the ground by the time we were done here.
“If the past two days are any indication, we have ten minutes. She usually comes out here to read after dinner,” Miles said, his voice clipped and nervous. The plan was for me to slip away before Cielle arrived, down the hallway and into the first floor drawing room, where the first floor window looked out over the courtyard. Miles hadn’t asked me, and I hadn’t offered, but we had an unspoken agreement. I needed to stay nearby.
Just in case.
“What do I say?” he asked suddenly, though his pacing continued. “How do I apologize?”
My brows rose in surprise at his question. “You just…apologize.”
“It’s not that simple. This is more than an apology.”
