We search for books that might mention fae, witches, or rituals that hide magic. Even if the subject comes close, we flip through as if searching for buried treasure. I read a dozen passages. A dozen more. Each promising something, each ending in a dead end.
I glance at the clock. We’ve been here an hour and haven’t gotten any further to understanding anything. Even a small clue would make this stealth mission worth it.
On a sigh, I move on to the next bookcase in the row, gliding my fingertips along the spines as I read them. When I come across a tome titledThe Turn of the Fae, I slip it out and bring it to the nearest table. The pages don’t reveal text as much as illustrations in a variety of styles, telling me there wasn’t just one person who contributed to the book.
The first section is about ancient fae, and the wordancientis fully befitting, because the illustration depicts the fae walking along with and interacting with the gods. And the fae drawings resemble the ones I used to see in children’s books, with wings and pointed ears, the air shimmering around them. According to this book, this is what the ancient fae people looked like.
“Ezra,” I call, since he’s supposed to be the smartest one in the room. “Do you believe the fae used to look like this?”
He comes over, bending a bit to see the illustration better. “Ah, yes. They were believed to have been molded from the image of angels, according to what I’ve read”
“But this isn’t what fae look like now.” My ears, and the ears of all the fae I know, do have a slight angle to them, but nothing close to the pointed ears depicted in the book.
“The legend is that the angelic-looking fae were feared by the people of Terre Ferique. This caused the fae to become lonely, and the feeling of not being accepted caused a deep sadness. So the fae made a deal with the gods.” Ezra shifts to sit in the chair beside me. “You see, apparently fae didn’t used to be only limited to one power when their magic manifested itself. But the fae were willing to sacrifice in order to be one with the people, to be seen as the same community. So they asked the gods to take their wings, to make them look more human, and as a payment, they would reduce their arsenal of powers to just one.”
“That’s wild,” Nadya says. “I don’t know if I could do that.”
“Really?” I tilt my head. “I mean, I guess if it were for something like love, I could understand.”
Nadya gasps. “Oh, yes. I can just imagine it. A lovely fae, willing to sacrifice her wings and her ear tips and her… glitter, I guess… so she would be accepted by the man she loves.”
I let out a small giggle. “There’s no doubting what kind of books you’ve been reading.”
She gives me a smile and a shrug before continuing her search. Ezra lets out a small groan as he stands, returning to the bookcase he’d abandoned before I called him over.
I flip through the pages, hoping the book might mention fae hiding their magic and getting it back, but there’s naught to be found.
Ezra finds a book mentioning a great execution of witches, but nothing helpful comes out of those pages, either.
Moving on to a new section, I trail my fingers across the spine of a thick volume bound in faded, green velvet. Something about the texture draws me to it. I slide it free and take in the illustrated cover of a man inarmor, standing in the foreground with a sword pointed in the air, with a sail-finned dragon roaring in the background.
I read the title out loud. “The Slayer of Hedera and the Final Age of Flame.” I glance over my shoulder.
Ezra nods. “It’s on our curriculum to go over, yes. The tale of a warrior from centuries ago who became obsessed with conquering dragons. What had started as a mission to track down and conquer one rogue dragon turned into a compulsion to slay dragons for their scales when he learned their worth. Strong as steel and resistant to flame, dragon scales quickly became more valuable than gold. Some said they held ancient magic. They were discovered to have medicinal qualities, used in potions to stave off incurable fevers. Some believed they could strengthen the blood, prolong vitality. Dull pain. And then, of course, were the rumors that they had the power to make one immortal.”
A shiver runs through me, and I rub my arms.
Ezra continues, his voice lower now. “Once word of the worth of dragon scales began to spread, the king at the time—King Haldric—saw a different future for Hedera. Prosperity became his obsession. And he took the dragon slayer under his wing to build his fortune.”
I swallow. “Torbin once brought me to a cave entrance in Hedera,” I murmur, my fingers drifting along the edge of the page. “We were just children. He said it was an old slayer’s den—where a dragon slayer used to sleep between hunts.” The memory rises slowly, like mist from a forgotten glade. “I remember how excited he was. He wanted to go inside, kept saying we might find old bones or buried treasure. But the moment I saw that dark mouth yawning open in the rocks, I froze. I was convinced there were monsters inside. I told him I wasn’t going any farther.”
Nadya shivers. “I would have said the same.”
My smile is faint but sharp at the edges. “He teased me. Called me ‘a coward.’ Said he thought I was brave—stronger than the other girls. That I disappointed him.” I shake my head. “It stung more than it should have. So I took his horse and rode back to the castle without him. Left him standing there alone.”
Ezra’s eyebrows lift slightly, but he doesn’t interrupt. Nadya looks like she’s holding back a smile.
“He walked all the way back,” I continue softly. “Found me sulking in the castle later, pretending not to care. But he had flowers. Wild ones, barely tied together. And a small box of sugared dates he must’ve stolen from the kitchen.” I glance between them, a strange ache spreading beneath my ribs. “He said I was his best friend. That he was sorry for making me feel small. And I believed him.”
For a long moment, no one speaks. The memory hangs between us, whole and bittersweet.
“It’s strange,” I add, barely above a whisper. “Even back then, he could be cruel. But he never wanted to lose me. Not really. If he thought he had, he’d do anything to win me back.”
Nadya reaches out, her fingers brushing mine. “That doesn’t mean you owe him anything.”
“I know,” I say. And I do. “I knew it even then. That’s why I took the horse.”
Ezra lets out a thoughtful hum beside me. “That cave… Was it tucked into the cliffs south of Hedera’s southern pass?”
