I gasp when the raven lands on my shoulder, claws digging into my skin. “Yes.”
“Then find yourself. Be present when we enter the sanctum.”
“A sanctum. Is this a temple, then, after all?”
“Who knows what it used to be?” Talton twists his little black head around and digs his beak into his wing, fluffing it out. “Who knows anything at all, really?”
“About this place?”
“About anything. Isn’t that what I said?”
Such a weird bird.
I find myself glancing the other way time and again as we keep going, seeking out Roane’s stony profile. His resolve not to look at me is impressive. Or perhaps I just don’t matter enough for him to check on me.
…his long fingers holding the knife… clenching into a fist… tracing my face…
I bump into something and gasp, only to find a hand gripping my shoulder, shoving me back a pace.
“What’s wrong with your eyes?” Roane demands. “Or your ears, for that matter?”
“I…”
“I said, we’re here.”
The door to the sanctum is huge and grand. Double and tall, it’s wrought of iron or some other polished metal, carved with symbols, similar to the ones I’ve noticed on the columns. It shimmers as I stare at it, playing with the light of the swaying lamps.
However, it doesn’t seem to have a knob or handle. Or a keyhole. Or any obvious way of opening it.
“Is it magic?” I clear my throat. “Do you need magic to open the door?”
He lifts a brow, glancing down at me. “I’ve unsealed it. Now you just need to push.”
I put my hand on it and push, bowing my head, but the door doesn’t budge.
“Let me.” He places his hand beside mine—those long fingers I’ve been obsessing over, the dark ring flashing on the middle one, those strong hands.
What’s wrong with me? Why am I unable to stop staring at him? I thought I couldn’t be more embarrassed. My face aflame, I let him shove the double doors open, feeling small, weak and inadequate.
For the record, aristocrats and nobles often talk about such qualities as being lady-like, having a strong man taking care of you as being romantic, but I’m not an aristocrat and I doubt Roane enjoys taking care of me. And speaking of whom…
He lets his hand drop to his side without opening the double doors. “You should give me that book. It’s not safe for you to have it.”
“I’ve been handling it for days now. Olm wouldn’t hurt me.”
“Do you really believe that?”
“I do.”
Roane’s mouth purses as if he’s sucked on a lemon.
Ardruna pads closer, her white fur taking on a bluish tinge in the diffuse light. “Maybe he won’t. But sometimes magical books lash out once they realize they are about to be abandoned. Sometimes we receive books covered in blood and bits of flesh.”
“You’re not serious.” Nausea rises in my throat. “Olm didn’t try to harm me when I entered the library. In fact, he helped me solve the riddle.”
Now Roane’s dark brows rise.
“That’s fascinating news,” Ardruna says drily. She really dislikes poor Olm. “But it doesn’t matter. Binding the books brings out their darker nature. In fact, you should step outside as we wrangle this book onto a shelf.”
