“And you’re lucky I know of a place that sells cream-filled truffles. Now, sister, if you don’t mind, let us make haste to the kitchen where our mutual schemes might be realized.”
She burned him with a scowl but it lacked venom. “Very well…brother.”
26
Cora’s lips continued to tingle even hours later, forcing her to recall the feel of Teryn’s mouth against hers again and again. It was a pleasant reminder, yet a dangerous distraction considering where she was and what she was doing. She bit her bottom lip, letting the pressure override the far gentler memories, and focused on what was before her—a hearth filled with flame, consuming pages of a very dangerous book.
She hated burning books on principle alone. The thought of permanently destroying knowledge, eradicating words that had been carefully recorded on paper for a distinct purpose, weighed her stomach down with guilt. She knew to cherish knowledge. Stories. Traditions. For six years, Cora had been raised by Salinda, the Forest People’s Keeper of Histories. Passing knowledge of the Arts down from one generation to the next had been Salinda’s job as one of the commune’s Faeryn elders.
But Cora knew even Salinda would approve of her burning this knowledge now. Knew she’d insist upon it.
Cora shuddered with revulsion, recalling the unsettling images she’d found within the book’s pages.
A wolf and a stag, facing off in the forest. One with bared teeth and raised hackles, the other with a lowered head of deadly antlers.
On the next page, the two creatures colliding in a battle of teeth and claws, hooves and tines.
On the following page, the animals collapsing in a heap of blood and torn flesh, eyes devoid of life.
Then, concluding the chapter, a single creature with paws and hooves, a sweeping tail, and a head crowned with antlers emerging from the two bodies…
She hadn’t seen the word Roizan anywhere on the page, but she knew that was what it was. That was how Morkai had created his creature, his vessel for dark magic.
Part of her had been tempted to keep the book for informational purposes, if only to learn more about Morkai, his magic, how he’d constructed his spells?—
And that idea had made her slam the book entitledMastering the Etherashut.
Her desire to keep the book hadn’t been sinister in any way. There was logic to learning more about an enemy, even a dead one, especially when his dark magic lingered beyond his death. But the fact that she’d almost felt justified in keeping a book on the forbidden Arts had terrified her.
So now it burned. Just like the dozen she’d burned before it and the hundreds still left to toss into the flames. It was a slow process. She couldn’t simply pick up a volume from one of the many shelves lining the circular room and chuck it in the fire. Instead, she had to extend her senses,feelfor any threat radiating from the spine or cover. Then, handling it with care, she’d have to flip open the cover with the edge of her paring knife, investigate the pages, seek any sign that they were laced with poison or woven with enchantments that needed to be broken with salt or water before succumbing to fire and air.
She glanced around the room at the leagues upon leagues of books, bottles of poisons, and stacks of paper cluttered everywhere. Her shoulders sank with how heavy this task was. How lengthy. How vital. She’d only been working in the tower for a few hours today, and already she was exhausted. Her stamina nearly spent.
But she was the only one who could do this.
It would take time, but shewoulddo this.
She watched the book turn to cinders and added more of the purifying herbs to the fire. Then, returning to where she’d foundMastering the Ethera, she assessed the shelf. One more book to burn and it would be empty. One more and she’d have cleared an entire shelf.
A glance out the window showed the sun was close to setting. Not only was she determined never to work in the tower after dark, but she had something very important to do tonight. Dinner with Teryn. The thought tugged her lips and reawakened her awareness of how they tingled. If she wanted time to bathe and dress and look something like a princess meeting her betrothed for a romantic meal, she needed to leave the tower soon.
But the near-empty shelf taunted her.
I suppose I can do one more.
She lifted her palms. They tingled at once, but she resisted stepping closer to the shelf until she reconnected with the elements: the stone beneath her feet for grounding and safety, the air in her lungs for intellect, the heat of the hearth for her strength of will, and the water on her tongue that connected her to her emotions, to the very root of her clairsentient magic.
Only then did she step closer to the book.
Her palms immediately pulsed with warning, tingling along every line of herinsigmora. She breathed out deeply and brought her palm closer to the book, careful not to touch it with her flesh, only the extension of her Art. The spine felt neutral, as did the cover. Lowering her hand inch by inch, she carefully grasped the spine and angled the book to the side. The edges of the paper nearly shouted at her magic, and as she turned it farther around, she saw they were discolored. It wasn’t from age, either. It was poison.
She cursed under her breath, knowing she couldn’t burn poison. Without knowing exactly what herbs or botanicals Morkai had used, she couldn’t guarantee they wouldn’t carry on the smoke and kill everyone who dared inhale it. Instead, she gathered up a piece of cloth and carefully wrapped the book. She brought it to the table at the center of the room, setting it next to another book. The one that had killed Lurel.
The table had become her place for collecting items that would require extra care before being rendered harmless. That included most of the vials of poisons and bottled herbs Cora had found around the room. She didn’t dare pour them in any soil or stream, for the same reasons she couldn’t burn the poison-laced book; they could pose too great a harm. Those items she could only lock in a chest filled with salt and bury deep underground.
She glanced at the book that had killed Lurel and had the strangest sensation there was something missing from beside it. Hadn’t there been another item…something she’d tried to clear this morning…
Her mind went blank.
