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I squint at it, and the others pause as the implication of that question settles over us. “Yes, it is. But I have no idea why this dude is here or why someone would take him out in an empty room.”
Dezi paces behind her. “Either the Reaping Court is trying to start a war with the Midnight Court, or this unfortunate man is a mole in the palace. There’s nothing here that suggests he’s here for us—unless one of you sees a hint of treachery?”
My brain is ping-ponging all over, but I keep my voice calm. “If they wanted to off us, they’d have done it already. This is a message, or a trap, but I agree with the bloodsucker. It’s not for us.”
Khol frowns, flexes his hands. “I’m not convinced, but I think we should get out of here. We can always come back to search this room when there’s not a crime they can pin on us.”
Of course he’d see it that way.
“Khol is right,” Tiernan says as he gestures for us to join him. “We shouldn’t be in here with a body. Let’s go.”
We duck out, close the door behind us, and move deeper into the hallway. There are more doors—most are locked, a couple cracked open just enough to show conference rooms, all empty.
At the end of the hall is a pair of double doors, intricately carved, standing slightly ajar. Without a word, we slip inside. Once the door closes, I look around and my face splits in an excited grin.
Holy fuck we found the library; Sassy’s going to lose her mind.
Five
FIADH
Ibite back the squeal rising in my throat, but my fingers twitch at my sides. This is the kind of place I used to dream about as a kid, before reality beat all the whimsy out of me.
Who doesn’t want access to a magical library with rolling ladders and big armchairs? It’s the dream, right?
Floor-to-ceiling shelves stretch out in a spiral to a ceiling so high and grand it would fit in at a cathedral. Balconies crisscross in dizzying tiers overhead, and between them, ladders on rails spin and slide as if they have minds of their own. The ceiling is lost to darkness, but the lower levels are lit by hundreds of silver sconces, their flames caught in orbs of crystal, casting sharp shadows and making the gold leaf titles glint. The whole place smells like ancient parchment and the tang of cold lightning.
“Holy fuck, I might have just had an orgasm,” I murmur, which gets a snort from Dezi.
He steps in past me, his eyes sweeping the stacks with something like reverence. “This,” he says, drawing out the word like a savoring taste, “is the best possible thing we could have found. I haven’t seen this much ancient literature in one place in a very long time. Midnight has been keeping a grand secret indeed.”
Tiernan comes in next, every bit the bodyguard as he scans for threats. “I’ll sweep the perimeter,” he says, voice low. “No one comes in or out without us knowing. Khol, take the west end.”
I doubt there will be assassins in the library, but who the hell knows at this point?
Khol nods and drifts off, which leaves me, Dezi, and Revelin standing in the entry. I step forward, fingers trailing along the nearest shelf. The tomes here are older than me—older than the freaking U.S., probably. Some of them are bound in things I don’t want to identify, but most are leather, embossed with gilded sigils. The magic is so thick it makes my teeth itch.
I crane my neck, following the spiral upward. The higher the shelves, the stranger the books—some glow faintly, some are locked with metal clasps and chains, and some float just out of reach, bobbing like jellyfish. There’s a ladder already descending, guided by no hand at all.
Revelin whistles under his breath. “They enchanted this room to fit inside the castle yet left it massive on the inside. That’s an old Fae trick humans have adapted in movies.” He looks back at me, lips twisted into a not-quite-smile. “You could get lost here for years and never find the same book twice.”
“That sounds like a challenge,” I say, and let myself grin for real. “If they didn’t want anyone to snoop, they shouldn’t have given me a map to their brain.”
The prince leans in close, his lips by my ear. “Don’t touch anything labeled in blue,” he murmurs. “The pigment is made from ground banshee teeth; it’s an old tradition the courts stopped around the medieval times in the other realm. They’re screamers, and we don’t want to be found.”
I shiver. “You’re not making that up, are you?”
He grins, fang tips visible as he winks. “I wish I were.”
Dezi clears his throat and takes a step toward the central desk, an altar-like slab of obsidian covered in neatly stacked reference books and a massive guest registry. The pen chained to the stand is made from a bird’s foot with gilding. “This is probably where we would normally be greeted by a librarian.”
“But there’s an emergency in the castle, which means most of the occupants are hunkered down, right?” I say, my voice lilting upward as I look at the prince.
Revelin nods before he sweeps his hand over the open space. “This would be easier with the help of that person, but we have full run of the place without them here. It's hard to decide which is better, honestly.”
“Where should we start?” I ask, not bothering to hide the hunger in my voice.
Dezi gestures at the stacks. “The books in the open will be the least risky items. As we venture deeper into the library, I would wager that more dangerous items will be shelved in sections that seem innocuous, but are hidden by their inconspicuous appearance rather than protection that calls attention to them.”
