A tense line appeared on his forehead, but at least his tone was calm. “That is a fair ask. I’ll try not to do that again.”
I squinted at him, scanning the lord’s demeanour for any signs of deception. I found none. “Good.”
My shoulders loosened. It might be a start. A truce that could lead to a somewhat decent relationship and reduce the risk to my life in the coming year. I wondered if he thought the same, since he looked more at ease too.
“So,” I murmured, “do you have a book about those nightmarish creatures?”
???
The undead beast looked so...wrong, its four limbs draped in patches of tattered black pelage that jutted against ivory bones. Wrong that such a thing should belong to the world of the living.
The Archive of Natural and Supernatural Beingswas a disturbing read that promised nightmares in the dark hours of the night, should I ever find respite in sleep again after the thorough explanation of each creature, like the Grim.
Since he gave me this book in his study, I hadn’t seen the Mage Lord, who, I’d heard, had gone with Gwinifer to a battlemage post because of some security problem. That was all I’d heard, all I was trusted to know.
Finnegan still hadn’t returned since leaving for the fair and visiting my family, and there’d been no news from the emissary yet.
So I read about the dreadful description of the Grim, a creature that would only die with a strike to its heart, its last living part.
Yet, it was the next creature that sent chills slithering down my spine and my pulse picking up. The supernatural, hostile entity that was bringing harm to their towns, igniting curfews and fear. Wraiths had greyish, emaciated bodies with elongated limbs and claw-like fingers. Their abnormally large maws housed no teeth as they didn’t need to chew, only suck the life from their victims, watching somehow, despite the empty sockets with no eyes.
It was with no small amount of fear that I kept my focus on the pages, my body numbing at what I read next.
A Wraith is born from one of its victims, transformed into a revenant that relentlessly hunts for power.
Born from its victim. A person.
How could a person become that?
I shoved back the hollowness and dread brewing inside me.
This was an effective distraction. I was not thinking about Father and Joy and whether Finnegan had already met them, given them the draught.
In all the bedtime stories I’d heard as a child, never had any monster triggered this much trembling in my hands, especially as I found that the creature could best a mageborn just as it was prone to becoming its ally if it attended to its interests. If it granted it more power.
There was no new information on Strzygas that I hadn’t found out for myself—no useful information, at least—includinghow they were known for prowling during the night, as their pale skin burnt in the light of the sun.
Bathing.
I should bathe to wash away the cold sweat that formed on my skin after way too much time reading this damn book. I needed it out of my head.
I’d learned by now to ask for what I needed aloud, and my room would provide it, just as it had provided the satchel and its contents that I brought to the Northern Forest.
After my bath, I asked the room for clothes instead of choosing my own. A drawer slid open, revealing a burgundy velvet dress with long sleeves, a fitted waist, and a flared, ankle-length skirt.
Chatting with my furniture might be a new level of insane.
As I brushed my hair in front of the mirror, twisting strands of copper around my fingers, a few items appeared on the dresser. A rose lipstick and powder matching my skin tone.
“Is this a hint?” I asked, amused.
“Yes, and you should take it,” came Gwinifer’s voice, making me jump.
Turning, I found her in the doorway, dressed in a long black skirt, a scarlet sweater, and a black leather jacket.
I frowned. “Did you knock?”
She shrugged. “The room told me you were decent.” When I lifted my brows at her, she asked, “Do you expect us to knock? What are you, a queen?”
