Last night he’d put it into his jacket pocket before going to his room. If he’d left it there, I could finally confirm he’d told me everything.
More importantly, though, I could see if he’d written anything about Mom and maybe even where they’d taken her.
Either way, if I got a look at it, I might not have to make another ridiculous deal.
Sneaking back to the opposite wall, I slowly stood. They couldn’t see me from here. I slunk along the side of the balcony, keeping close enough to the shelves to brush against them until I reached the last one.
The hidden door.
If it was locked, this little mission of mine would be over before it even began.
Which book did Soren use as a doorknob?
My fingers brushed the cloth-covered spines. I pulled on the thick, deep green hardcover on the far left, and it rewarded me with a nearly silent click as the mechanism released.
The secret door swung open.
I slipped inside.
On the back of the bookshelf, there wasn’t a handle.
Would it open when I tried to leave?
There was always the normal-looking door across the room if it didn’t, but I didn’t know where that led.
To be safe, I left the secret door slightly open, just enough that I wouldn’t get locked in.
Satisfied, I turned to study Soren’s room. The lack of color struck me first. Though spacious enough to fit a large bed, the blankets were a simple gray. Only one pillow.
When I caught myself thinking he must be lonely, I frowned.He’s fae. And he may still be involved with those who took Dad, Rissa, and Olive. Maybe Mom too. Stop worrying about his stupid feelings.
A soft off-white carpet covered most of the dark wood floor. Two chocolate-colored bookcases on either side of the bed held books that seemed much more worn than those in the library, like they were well loved. A sizable stack rested on his bedside table as well, alongside a cozy reading lamp.
The one touch of color in the room besides the books came from a single painting on the wall.
The artwork held seven fae posed on the edge of a mountain with a vivid sunset in the background. It looked like a family portrait. All of them had enormous wings. The only other fae I’d seen with wings, besides Soren, was the one who’d abducted my family.
Some kept their wings contained while others spread them out, almost like they were bragging. In the center of the group, a man—or fae—wrapped his arm around who I guessed might be his wife. He had pale blond hair, while hers was dark.
The first three fae were an exact replicate of him but younger, down to the pale white wings—his sons, maybe? If so, that might make the other two brother and sister. They both had darker hair and deep black wings like the woman—female? Whatever she was called here.
On closer look, I inhaled sharply. That was Soren, before he’d lost his wings. So, that was what they’d looked like. Was this his family?
His sharp blue eyes matched what I assumed were his mother’s. But he and the other female stood ever so slightly apart from the rest of the family.
Soft laughter trickled from downstairs. Though instinct made me want to run, the part of me that wanted answers started digging.
I started with his bookshelves, then the books on his bedside table, trying not to get distracted by titles. Not a single one was brown leather.
I pried open the drawers of his dresser next, making quick work of my search.
Spinning to look around the room, I didn’t see many other hiding places. Under the rug? Nope. Behind the mirror? No. On the small desk? Uh-uh. My eyes fell on the tall wardrobe on the other side of the bed. Worth checking, I supposed.
I felt around the wooden interior of the base, opening the boxes there, which only held shoes. I even brushed a hand through the hanging clothes.
A soft crinkle came from a pair of pants.
Curious, I reached into the pocket and tugged the paper out. In a cursive script that looped wildly, it said,Acquire another four dozen mortals before the end of solstice.
