awe in his tone.
Titus’s jaw tightened. “And send that brown dragon to the royal dragon healer. Something must be wrong with it.”
CHAPTER 10
The Library
DELILAH
Idid as he instructed and followed my little, floating flame friend to the library, even though a large part of me wanted to tell the High Lord to fuck off and retreat to my room. But this mission was important, and I needed to survive the retrieval of the dagger so I could get home to my husband.
I decided that learning as much as possible about this bizarre world and its dangers would only benefit my cause and increase my chances of survival.
I did notwantthe Fae to go to war and die. I did notwantthe dragons to be wiped out either. But I was not emotionally invested. My sole motive was to get home alive. If, in the process, I could help save Calpurnia, Aurelius, Gleeda, their home, and the dragons, then at least I would know I had done what I could.
“The Royal Library of Embris” was carved into the stone above the grand doors in ornate lettering.
The heat hit me first as I stepped through. A dry, heavy pressure clung to the air like a shroud.
The black obsidian doors, inlaid with veins of glimmering crimson, swung shut behind me with a sound like grinding teeth, severing the link to the cooler stone corridors of the castle. The scent of parchment and leather mingled strangely with the dry, smoky air.
Upon my first few steps into the mysterious library, I felt an invisible force hold me in place. I could not move a single muscle. After a few seconds, the force released me, as if the library were a living thing deciding whether I was worthy enough to access the knowledge it held.
I shook off the goosebumps from being judged by the library and proceeded farther inside.
The room was vast. Its obsidian walls disappeared into a vaulted ceiling high above. Instead of a fireplace, like in every other room, a column of magma flowed down the center of the chamber. A solid stream, like a thin waterfall, cast everything in an eerie orange glow that made the unmoving shadows seem conscious. Their silent stares made me uneasy.
The lava waterfall appeared to be the beating heart of the library. It gathered in a sunken pool, then flowed beneath the stone floor like blood through veins. Its light did not quite reach the highest, darkest corners, where who knew what ancient creatures might be hiding, drawn to its warmth.
Extending into the distance were orderly rows of stacks and shelves filled with books. Each shelf bore volumes whose covers were made of fire-resistant hide or embossed metal. I ran a hand over one book, the metal cover surprisingly cool to the touch. They had to be fireproof. Judging by the way the air hummed with magic, I assumed all the books were protected by some kind of fire ward. I could only hope that Titus could find a way to use similar magic on me in the volcano.
An upper gallery circled the room, reached by a staircase that twisted like a serpent. The banister was a bar of heated brass, and I felt its faint warmth even from across the chamber. This library did not have the inviting, comforting atmosphere I had imagined. Instead, it felt an armory, intimidating and guarded, as if it understood that the books and tomes it held were the most powerful weapons of all. Knowledge.
I stepped deeper into the room. The towering bookshelves around me began to feel more like a forest than a library.
Then I spotted a circular clearing with tables and chairs. Several ivory candles and lanterns adorned one of the desks, and resting on it was a neat stack of books. I sifted through the titles. This had to be the stack Titus was referring to.
I glanced at the candles and lanterns. I could not decide if they were simply necessary light for reading, since the space was rather dark, or if something else was at play. The way they were meticulously arranged, and how many there were, made me wonder if there was a hint of romance in the gesture.
What was I even thinking?
The High Lord would never have set this up himself. It was most likely the work of a servant. Plus, I had a difficult time believing Titus possessed a romantic bone in his body. Why would he? It was a business deal, after all. His words.
Satisfied with my conclusion, I turned back to the stack of books.
One detailed the history, laws, and culture of the Fire Fae. Another covered dragon training techniques. One chronicled the legend of the four God Dragons. Another explored the anatomy of the Fae species. But the final title caught my attention first.
“The Sealing of the Six Realms.”
I opened the solid gold cover. It looked impossibly old, foreign, as if it belonged entirely to another world. Inside the cover was an inscription, carefully carved.
“The Guardians’ gift to the Faerie Realm.”
The Guardians themselves gave the Faerie Realm a book? Did they give one to the human realm? And who were the Guardians, anyway?
I lost track of time as I read, as I often did.
Apparently, there were six realms in total, not just the two I had been aware of. Not only the Faerie and Human realms, as I had originally thought. The very first realm was Hell, and that was where all souls began. As you progressed by improving your soul, you advanced to the mortal world, described as a realm stripped of magic. If you continued to grow and learned the lessons the Guardians of the Realms deemed necessary, you moved onward to the Faerie Realm.
