“Will you show me?” he says.
“I don’t think it’s sensible for us to be hanging around in libraries,” Beaufort says. “They must be out looking for us by now. It’s only a matter of time before they check the academy.”
“It’s a secret section,” Clare explains. “No one’s going to be able to find us in there.”
Beaufort doesn’t look convinced. Neither does Dray. But they don’t have any choice but to follow the rest of us through to the back of the library.
The secret room is already concealed again and there’s absolutely no sign at all that it even exists. But I hold up my hand and let that light flicker across my palm, and once again the bookshelf swings away, the walls groan, and the tunnel leading to the secret library room reappears. Fox halts in the tunnel, examining the markings like I had done only moments earlier. And then we find ourselves back in the safe room, the wall and the shelves closing behind us. For the time being at least, we’re safe. Or at least I think we are.
Fox strolls right towards the three books lined up on the shelf, reaching for the first one. I call out to warn him that thebook won’t accept his hand, but nothing happens, and he sweeps it up into his arms.
“We’ve already read them all,” I explain.
“You’ve been spending your time in the library, Little Kitten,” Dray says, looking unhappy at the thought. “We were expecting you to be tearing across the realm, searching for us. A bit like you did with him.” He jerks his chin in the Professor’s direction.
“I was searching for information that would help us free you from the Tower,” I explain, though I can’t quite meet his eyes because I did get distracted, didn’t I?
“What did the books tell you, Briony?” Fox says, thumbing through the pages.
I swallow. “It was a history,” I explain, “a history of my people, the light wielders.”
Fox nods. “And was there anything useful in it?”
I swallow again. “I don’t know if it was useful, but…” I hesitate.
Fox looks up from the book, and I feel everyone’s gaze on me. I raise my eyes from the stone floor and meet the gaze of the three Princes in front of me.
“They told me what happened to the light wielders. Why there are no more.”
“What happened to them, sweetheart?” Beaufort asks.
“They were killed,” I say. “Massacred. Eliminated.” I pause again. “Your people killed my people.”
“My people?” Dray says, resting his hand over his heart and looking confused.
“The shadow weavers,” I say. “They killed the light wielders.”
Beaufort is immediately shaking his head. “That’s not what happened. We were allies, we?—”
“Yes,” Clare says. “You were. Once upon a time. Hundreds and hundreds of years ago. But then things changed. Then you were enemies, vying for power, and eventually …” She trails off.
I expect Beaufort to argue some more, but he’s changing. He isn’t the arrogant, argumentative Beaufort he used to be – or at least not as much as he used to be. I think there’ll always be a little arrogance and argument about the man.
This news must be as devastating to him as it is to me. Everything he’s learned, everything he believed, everything he thought was true all his life, everything the Empress – his mother – told him was built on a foundation of lies.
“Then I’m sorry,” Beaufort says, holding my gaze in his silver one. “I truly am, Briony. But I don’t see how that helps us now.”
“No.” I shake my head. “No. No. Me neither.”
I could feel resentment, anger. I could hate the three men in front of me for what their ancestors did. I could hate fate for binding me to them. Only a few months ago, I would have. But this is all ancient history. Just as I don’t blame Beaufort for his mother’s sins, I don’t blame him for this either. And he’s right. Howdoesit help us?
I feel my shoulders sag. Fate must have bound us together for a reason – a shadow weaver and a light wielder – the likes of which has not been seen for hundreds and hundreds of years. A light wielder who also has a dragon and four fated mates. We have the Empress worried enough to want us dead, and yet I don’t know what the hell we’re meant to do next.
“It is useful,” Fox says, slamming shut the book and gathering up the other two that sit on the shelf. “I think we should take these to Professor Cornelius.”
“Professor Cornelius?” Fly cries. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”
Fox glowers at my friend, who takes a step backward, his knees practically knocking together. The Professor may be sleeping with his best friend, but he’s still formidable, especially to any student.
