I don’t understand what’s gotten into her either. Nor do I care.
Not only has she blasphemed every tenant upon which I’ve built my life, but she also lied to me. She doesn’t know where Abysses is. She can’t find the heart.
I sold my soul to the demon for no fucking reason, and now we’re both going to die for it. I clamp down on the subtle sway of emotions in my chest—a flicker of rage, a tendril of fury, a spark of betrayal.
If I weren’t such a coward, I’d drag her to the Fathoms myself. Right fucking now.
“Let me get this straight,” I say instead, satisfied when my voice comes out cool as ever. “You want us to break into the one place where it cannot be done—where, in fact, you have personally proven it cannot be done.”
She whirls around, glaring at me. “I was close enough. Gettinginto the library is easy. Gettingoutis the hard part, but with your magic and”—her nose scrunches as if she doesn’t want to bring herself to say it—“yourwings, we’ll be fine.”
My wings preen at that, fluttering a gentle breeze and blowing pink strands around the mermaid’s slender neck.Bastards.I stifle them with a quick swat, thinking quickly. The Illuminated Library. I have never been to Lucia; the king does not allow warlocks to leave Mortia’s shores save for battle—an act of control, of absolute power over us—but I can picture the library as plain as if I were holding a map. At the center of the mainland, Lucia’s castle grows from the heart of a gargantuan Everoak Tree. The thick limbs erupting from the canopy host all ranks of nobility in grandiose tree houses, while bramble and killer birds and bees act as natural defenses to keep enemies at bay. A siege on Castle Everoak would be near impossible, and King Constane has always known that. As such, he has always maintained a close friendship with Lucia’s empress.
The Illuminated Library, however, is different. It is not part of the mainland. Rather, it resides on one of several islands just off the coast. One guarded closely by dryads and Lucius’s godly might. Rumor has it, the earth god fled into the woodlands after Mortem’s Fall, and he dwells in secret among forest creatures now. Though his power remains constant and strong. Especially around his sacred places, like the library with his beloved records.
I don’t know anyone who has ventured to the Greenwood Isles. I don’t know anyone stupid enough to risk it.
“The place is supposed to be desolate,” I recall. “Reclaimed by nature. Swallowed by flora. The only way in or out would be by sea or sky.”
“We are notflyingthere.” She shudders. “We aren’t swimming either, and stealing a boat would be just as risky as diving straight into the water ourselves.”
Yet another reference to whatever attacked us in the Sel. I wait for her to elaborate on this supposed threat, but again, she chooses this moment to fall silent.
I crack my neck, trying to find the center of my calm. She seems to have completely evaporated it. When she stomps toward the far sideof this island, I have no choice but to follow her. The cord stretches between us, taut as ever, and even if it didn’t, my wings drag me after her.Onecompliment—not even a compliment—and they’re unabashedly curious about the pink-haired merrow.Bastards.
“It isn’t desolate,” she calls over her shoulder. “That’s just a lie Lucia uses to dissuade petty thieves and foreigners. There are bigger criminals, of course, who know the truth of the island, but they wouldn’t dare step foot on its shore. Not for some old history books anyway. Even valuable ones.” She kicks a pebble from her path. It soars high before landing in the water and rippling the sea. A small ray leaps up through the center, chomping surprisingly sharp teeth in Zephyra’s direction. She ignores it. “You’ve learned about dryads, warlock?”
“Obviously.”
“Then you know they aren’t inherently malicious. They can be brutal, yes, and kill anything on this earth with—with a single wallop, but they don’twantto fight.”
I didn’t know that, actually. “Warlocks aren’t taught to contemplate the social ethics of monsters. We’re taught to dismember them. Quickly and efficiently.”
“How predictable.” She rolls her eyes. “Dryads are pacifists until they sense an enemy in their midst. If one even so much asthinksan unjust thought in a dryad’s presence—or if one aims to hurt the island or its people in any way… that’s when they attack.”
“So?”
She glances back at me as if I’m the biggest fool to ever live, and it takes everything in me not to slice my own flesh just to watch her bleed. “So as long as our intentions are pure, we’ll make it to the library just fine. There are thriving businesses and people on the island. It’s a harmonious place. Love, laughter, joy—all the things a monster like you might never know. But I forgot: You weren’t taught to ‘contemplate social ethics.’”
“I am not a monster, Zephyra. I am a warlock.”
“Exactly.”
“You are—”
“Infuriating? A demon? So you’ve said.” She flicks her hair behind her with a righteous scoff, and my wings drag me faster. Closer.
If I grind my teeth any harder, I’m going to lose half by tomorrow. I clench and unclench my fists instead. Fighting for calm. For the control, the power, that comes from total detachment. “The Greenwood Isles may beharmonious, but they still wouldn’t hesitate to dismember a merrow on sight.”
She frowns at that, and her eyes glaze as if she’s no longer seeing me but something else. Something far in the distance. “Yes. I know.” Shaking her head, she fixes her gaze back on me. “You’ll need to extend some of that magic to disguise us. We need to appear as unthreatening as possible, and wemustkeep our minds clear. No anger or frustration or…brooding,” she says, aiming the word right at my chest.
“That will never work.”
“It worked before.”
“You said that robberyfailed—”
“I said it wasn’t successful. That’s not the same thing. I broke into the Illuminated Library, and I saw the rows and rows of gilded texts—I even read through half a dozen boring scriptures on droughts and human sacrifices. I saw the skeletons of the keepers too. As I mentioned,leavingwas the problem, and… and what happened then won’t happen again.” Her gaze drops to the ground. The cord flashes with a swift pinch of misery. She shakes her head quickly and straightens her shoulders once more. “The dryads shouldn’t notice us if we can control ourselves. And once we findwhateverit is you’re looking for, you can fly us to Abysses, we can locate your stupid heart, and you can try to sever the bond.”
