Well. I stop to catch my breath. Tristan doesn’t look at all fazed.
We look at each other, then around the place. It’s only then it dawns on me. Prince has hundreds of books in here, and these are just the special ones. I peek down at the sac Tristan carries, the one we’re supposed to fill with Giulia’s tomes.
Just one tiny problem. I don’t know which are hers.
CHAPTER20
TRISTAN
Cass props her hands to her hips and starts pacing. Her chest heaves, and I know it’s because of this magic of hers. There’s no way around it — I don’t like it. I don’t like how it seems to always tire her, how it sucks her energy. How it’s making her skin look different.
She catches me staring at her and cocks her head in doubt. “Everything alright?” she asks. And there’s so much on her head, so much going on with her I don’t mean to add anything else. I do not wish to put any more weight on her shoulders.
I shake my head, then motion for the shelves. “Which ones?”
Her shoulders droop. “That’s the problem. I don’t know.”
I blink. “Oh.”
“Yeah…” Cassandra starts around the room. She stares at each of the shelves, studying the volumes, tracing her fingers down the spines. “Maybe the oldest ones.”
I make my way to the bookshelf the farthest from the balcony. I still remember being here, watching Cass work her magic out as the fae pushed her on. Never liked it, never liked him. I hated how hard he pressured her. As if her powers were the only thing that mattered.
This shelf has not books, but rolls of paper, like papyrus. With the time I spent here, I got to analyze them through the thick glass. The edges are frayed, broken as if the paper has grown too dry. The ones behind glass are the ones the fae wanted to protect the most — he mentioned putting wards in them.
Reaching up, I close my hand in a fist and punch the glass. It shatters, so the wards are truly down. With the fae’s death, all the wards he created himself have gone down. Good for us.
“What are you doing?” Cassandra squeals behind me, looking around my arm to the rolls of paper.
“Testing the wards.”
“Wasn’t there a quieter way?”
I shrug, then reach inside the shelf. The papyrus are, indeed, fragile to the touch. I pull my hand back. “Better leave these for last, or the books will smash them.”
“Smart,” says Cassandra, showing me her back and going for the books. “There was this one book he made me read, or try to read, that I think might be useful.” And she combs the shelves after it.
I make my way to another one of the once-warded shelves, smashing glasses clean through before pulling out the books inside. The protected ones are the important ones, I repeat to myself. The fae wouldn’t have warded them off if they didn’t matter to him. Even if they aren’t the ones the witch hopes for, they will probably be worth something.
Many of these books are in languages I can’t comprehend. I prop the sac open by my feet then place the books inside, trying to keep it as space-smart as possible. We have a lot to carry and limited area.
Also, we don’t have much time.
Something crashes in the distance. I stop, preening my ears, but nothing follows. The others are still fighting, I know it. Cassandra doesn’t stop her perusing, opening books and flipping through them.
“This one is about the Abyss,” she says, frowning. “I get it, there’s the Underworld for dead souls, and Heaven for the angels. The Abyss is for demons, right? They treat it here like a geographic area.”
“What do you mean?” I make my way to her, spying over her shoulder at the pages.
They’re littered in maps and images, drawings of cliffs and caves and smoking grounds. It doesn’t look like a nice place. The book does treat it like another part of this world, with sections on climate and mountains, even listing the Seven Greats Mountains of the Abyss.
Cassandra shakes her head and puts it away. “We don’t need it. We’re not going into the Abyss, anyway.”
“There could be one like this for the Cursed Realm,” I suggest, looking around the other books. Atlas of the Cursed Realm would be a great find.
“Oh, that would be great…” She sighs, and looks at me. “Do you think we’ll have to go there? It wasn’t on my plans or anything.”
I reach out, tucking a strand of black hair behind her ear. She looks beautiful, as beautiful as the first time I saw her. The black hair catches the light of early morning, and her dark eyes are deep and wonderful to study, with the edges burning to a black color while the center is golden.