Page 119 of Hellbound

As if reading her mind, he threw her a wink without breaking his stride.

He stopped at a set of iron double doors that were twice his height. Their surface was embossed with ancient texts and figures of scholars.

They groaned open to reveal a vaulted library, four stories high with towering bookcases. Wrought-iron spiral staircases and delicate balconies connected each floor.

Marbled gargoyles perched on the shelf-corners and in nooks, and a center atrium was left open for a glorious skylight to shine over long rows of desks and lanterns.

It smelled of old parchment, ink, and worn leather. Ksenia could faintly hear the sound of ladders rolling across brass tracks as attendants organized and retrieved books for the patrons below.

The tables were empty, save for a woman and two men.

The woman bore weathered, blue-stained hands with calloused palms, which she gently rested on the table before her. Her sun-darkened skin creased around her eyes with a smattering of stone dust on her temple. Her hair was dark, braided with metal charms. Her build was strong and compact, and she was dressed in earth-toned woolen garments.

“Brina is our expert from Grastel.”

A skittish man stood to her left, lean and pallid. His eyes darted around and darkened briefly when their eyes met. He was dressed in a plain brown wool tunic and trousers that matched his homely eyes.

“Tomek, from Drenvar.”

Ksenia recognized the last man immediately. The grizzled old prisoner sat before her, donning a pair of half-moon spectacles. His tightly coiled hair and beard was streaked with silver and white. His deep brown skin was creased with lines from pulling his mouth into a wide smile. He was still dressed in prison garb, with a shackle around his leg, chaining him to the heavy oak table. The welts from the cuffs had healed on his wrists but were still raw and pink.

“Isn’t that man from—”

The prisoner unearthed a flask in front of himself. “You can call me Mirko. Bohdi and I go way back.” He took a hearty swig.

Ksenia cut a wide-eyed glance at the captain’s impassive expression.

“He doesn’t look like it, but Mirko was once our court physician. He was imprisoned for selling contraband to both kingdoms during the war, and here we are now.” Bohdan signaled two Envorsen over to the table with the crook of his fingers. “He’s exceptionally gifted with poisons, venoms, and everything in between.”

Ksenia met Mirko’s craggy, playful smile, noting his remaining fingers rapping against the tabletop, and a hefty, darkened steel signet ring on one of his digits. She hadn’t expected his story in the Maw to be the truth.

Why hadn’t he been killed already?

Bohdan plucked the question from her mind.

“His talents are immeasurable compared to our physicians today, so we keep him around. As such, he was offered a bargain to be a bonded servant, teaching you what he knows in exchange for a change in his environment.”

Ksenia gave an awkward, stilted bow to the trio.

She carefully slid onto the polished wooden bench before them, clasping her hands against the table.

Brina’s eyes were earthy and warm, just like her clothes. They crinkled deeper with her smile, showing prominent, strong teeth. She extended her forearm out in greeting, and Ksenia grasped it in return.

Good start.

Tomek fisted his hands within the edge of his tunic, ringing it nervously, and Ksenia retracted her hand in response.

Mirko had his hands full, so she bowed. Despite being in a library, he had produced a drumstick and was emptying his flask. He slammed it down, causing Tomek to jolt: “You have no idea how long I’ve been craving liquor like this.”

“I’ll leave you in their capable hands. Remember: you have till the Kindling to become proficient in those languages.” Bohdan turned on his heel, his footfall echoing through the library.

The double doors clanged shut behind him, and Ksenia loosened her breath.

Mirko cracked his neck and settled back in his seat. Silence hung between them as he merely stared at Ksenia, a slow smile crawling upon his face. His ring glinted dully in the light.

“You’re from Brannfels, aren’t you?”

Ksenia’s brow furrowed. “How did—”