“Dev is the overseer of the mines,” he said, running his hand through his hair as though he were stressed about something. “It makes sense that he wants to meet. I really should go talk to him as soon as I can, but I want to get you settled in the Archives first.”
“What are the Archives exactly?”
“It’s where we keep all the books in the Underworld, except those in peoples’ private collections, of course. And that’s where I keep the books I took from Petyr.”
“Why do you keep them there and not here? Shouldn’t they be kept hidden?” she asked.
“I keep them there so if they’re ever found, they can’t be associated with me or Steig or Turner. But they are still hidden—you’ll see.”
“Oh,” Ena said. That seemed smart, but it dawned on her how difficult it must have been for Ty to live like this for so long—in such a hostile world where he’d constantly had to watch his back from his uncles, living in fear. No wonder he was filled with rage. And now, on top of that, he had to keep the amulet hidden, too, and—
“Wait—the amulet!” Ena said, suddenly remembering and turning to look at the nightstand. “When I fell asleep last night, I had it wrapped in a cloth here, but now it’s gone.”
“Don’t worry, viper,” Ty said calmly. “After you fell asleep, I moved it.” He went to the trunk at the foot of the bed, digging through it before pulling out a small wooden lockbox. “I figured,now that I’ve locked it, I’ll melt down the key in the forge so you’ll be the only one who can open it using your spellword.”
Ena’s heart warmed. Not only was that a great idea, but it showed how much he really, truly trusted her with all of this, and it meant everything.
“Okay,” Ena said, feeling the smile spread across her face.
“Now, come on,” Ty said, gesturing to the plate of hard-boiled eggs, bread, and cheese he’d spread out on the table. “After we eat, I’ll take you to the Archives before I meet with Dev.”
“Okay, if you say so,” Ena said, her tone playfully skeptical as she stood up and walked over to where he stood by the table.
“What?” Ty asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.
“It’s just… I don’t know how you could possibly be hungry after that extremely filling breakfast you just had” Ena smiled widely at him, very pleased with herself for the joke she’d made.
Ty laughed, that contagious sound that lifted her, making her feel lighter than air. Then he grabbed the back of her head, pulling her in closer to him, kissing her soundly. “Don’t remind me,” he whispered in her ear as he pulled back. “I can’t wait for seconds.”
Chapter Eleven
Ena
Aftertheyfinishedeatingand dressing, Ena followed Ty out the door and into the labyrinth of passageways. Unfortunately, in order to reach the Archives, they had to cross through the Great Antre—which was apparently what the gigantic central cavern she’d initially met Cole in was called—and she understood now why Cole liked to make his presence known there.
It felt as if she and Ty were on display as they walked across the intimidating space to the staircase that was carved into the walls around it. The other daemons eyed them, and Ena did her best to appear as an obedient witch-slave, walking a step behind Ty, with her head slightly lowered as he’d instructed, but she didn’t miss the smug looks of satisfaction many threw her way when they noticed her collar. Although she thought she caught a few pitying looks too.
She saw others wearing them, as well—theimperi—carrying things to and fro, in and out of rooms, and down the manypassageways, and it was strange. In her Coven, all witches shared the work. A witch’s Gift determined what path they were best suited for, for serving Gaia, but no one was relegated to work that did not suit them, nor were they forced to serve others. Everyone chose to help one another, taking turns with the most undesirable tasks. But to see an entire group of people forced into certain tasks by virtue of perceived slights against daemons, or more specifically, Cole, made her feel incredibly uncomfortable.
After ten minutes of winding down endless passageways, Ty stopped and led her through a set of large, double-arched doors with golden doorknobs. They opened into a large chamber—not as large as the Great Antre, but still impressive. The most astounding part, though, was the shelves and shelves of books that lined the walls, stretching up to the ceiling of the cavern.
Ena had never seen so many books in her life. She’d thought that Heran had had an impressive stash of spellbooks, journals, and histories, but this was way, way more than that.
In the center of the room sat several large wooden tables with dimly lit darkrock lanterns placed atop them. Hard-looking wooden chairs were placed around them for seating but scattered around the room were several cozier-looking chairs, too, decked with furs like the ones in Lara and Steig’s chambers. The whole area was so incredibly inviting, which surprised her.
Branching off the far end of the chamber was a dark passageway, and out of it came an older man. He had gray hair, receding at the top, but long on the sides, that was tied back into a short ponytail. He wore similar black robes to the timekeeper but had noimperaecollar.
He shuffled closer to Ena and Ty, a smile gracing his wrinkled face, causing his kind brown eyes to crinkle at the corners. “Ty, my boy,” the man greeted warmly. “I’d heard you’d returned. Safe and sound, looks like?”
“Yes, Nial,” Ty greeted, smiling in return.
“Good, good. It’s wonderful to see you,” Nial said, placing his hand in a fatherly way on Ty’s shoulder, and it warmed Ena’s heart to see it. She had been starting to think all daemons besides Ty, Turner, and Lara—and maybe sometimes Steig—were assholes.
“What can I do for you both today?” Nial asked, his eyes darting towards Ena in a curious way.
“Ena is our new…guest,” Ty replied, pointedly avoiding her degrading title, which was interesting. “And she’ll be working on a project for me and the king, so she’ll be needing access to the Archives on a regular basis.”
“I see, I see,” Nial mumbled. “And what kind of resources will she be needing?” he asked Ty, his eyebrow arching as if communicating something unspoken.
