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The rest of the trek down the stairs was quiet. When they finally reached the bottom, she lit the various candles and torches she had hauled down over the past few weeks, illuminating a circular room. The entire perimeter was bookcases save for one spot where a hearth was built into the wall, and in the center of the room was a long wooden table with chairs and benches around it. It was cluttered with the books and all of her own papers she’d been taking notes on.
Scarlett went to the table and set the book Eliza had found among the others. Then she turned and sat on the bench facing Sorin. He was studying her, and she waited. She said nothing as he crossed the room and picked up one of the various books and flipped the pages quickly. She was quiet when he set the book back down and picked up her notes, skimming them and turning pages over. He set her notes down and went to the bookshelves, his hands in his pockets, as he looked at the titles. At last he turned to her and said, “None of these are in the common tongue.”
“No, they are not.”
“Very few are in the Old Language.”
“Yes.”
He turned back to the books once more before he came and sat beside her on the bench. “I do not even know where to begin. What to ask you,” he admitted, his golden eyes meeting hers.
“Anything. I do trust you, Sorin. I’ll share it all, and we candecide together how much to tell the others,” she replied, taking his hand in hers.
“How can you read these?” he asked, motioning to the books on the table.
“Some of them I can’t. I haven’t found a way to translate them, but most of them are written in either this language,” she said, pointing to one of the books, “or this one.” She held up a second book. “This one is the one I’ve been able to decipher the most of and what I have spent most of my time down here learning.”
“And what language is it?”
She swallowed. There was no going back. Not now. “The Avonleyan language. The other, I think, is the Maraan language, but it is much harder to translate.”
“The language that you and Ashtine were talking about?”
“Yes.”
“Who are the Maraan Lords?”
Scarlett stood now and walked to an open area of the room. She knelt in the dust and began drawing in it. Sorin stood and watched her as she drew their continent, marking off the various territories. “A few months ago, I thought our continent consisted of these territories,” she said, pointing to the three human kingdoms and the Courts. “Then I learned of these other lands.” She waved a hand over the makeshift map and various figures appeared, detailing the Shifters, Witches, and Night Children. She took a step to the left and drew another continent a ways away. “I suppose I’ve always known that Avonleya existed, but it seemed almost like a fairy tale,” she said, rising to stand beside Sorin. “Then I learned of the Maraan Lords, but I cannot figure out where they came from. Where is their land? I know there have to be more continents beyond our own, but how did they get here?”
Sorin studied the makeshift map on the floor. “Why do you think they are here?”
“Because according to what I’ve been able to decipher in these books, Deimas was a Maraan King.” Sorin’s eyes shot to hers. “You told me no one knows where Deimas’ power came from. Well, here it is. He was a completely different race and bloodline.”
“Then what were his powers?”
“I haven’t been able to find that, but from what I’ve gathered, their power was similar to an Avonleyan in terms of strength.”
“Who are the Maraan Lords?” he asked again. He hadn’t moved from where he stood studying her crude map.
“They are the rulers of Maraa, I suppose, with their king gone. There are seven territories, each ruled by a Lord. I imagine they would be comparable to you and the other princes and Ashtine. They are the most powerful now that Deimas is out of play,” Scarlett explained.
“And you have faced them?”
She nodded mutely.
“When? How?”
“The first one… He had just arrived here. Was fresh off a ship. I don’t think he quite understood how stifled his magic would be in the human lands. He was arrogant and made the comment that he had not believed his kin that were already here.”
And she launched into the story of the night when she and Nuri and Juliette had killed a man near the docks. They had suspected he was connected to the missing orphans, but when he had compromised both her and Nuri, Juliette had shoved her sword through his neck.
“How does Mikale know of that night?” Sorin asked when she was finished.
“I don’t know how he knows. Some sort of connection maybe that bonds all the Lords?”
Sorin’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You think that Mikale is a Maraan Lord?”
“It fits with everything, Sorin. It would explain how he knew about that night. It would explain why he wants me. Why he wants to merge our bloodlines. If I’m as powerful as you think I am, and he is a Maraan Lord, a child would be…” Her voice was barely audible as she trailed off.
