Page 69 of Crownless Heirs

She turned the book over in her hands, frowning. “This came to me in Lumora’s library…” Her voice was shaky.

Kyron shook his head. “No one’s seen this book since Balor ruled, and even then, it was hidden from gods and fae alike. It doesn’t just appear.” He started pacing, his mind already turning. “People have spent lifetimes trying to find it. And you…” He met her eyes. “You didn’t just find it Sorcha. It chose you.”

“Why me?” She blurted out.

“Maybe because you didn’t want it,” Maelan said. “Maybe because you belong to both realms.’

“I don’t care what it wants,” she said, her voice low. “I never asked for this.” She hurled the book over the railing and as she turned around, it reappeared in front of her.

She stared at it, a scream rising in her throat.

“I don’t think you have a choice,” Kyron said, eyes locked onto it.

Sorcha’s fingers bit into her palms as she slumped against the floor. Maelan and Kyron sat beside her, their backs against the railing.

Silence settled between them, the only sounds were the soft rustle of falling pages and the distant cries of monsters beyond the library walls. Sorcha picked up the book and flipped the book around in her hands.

She took a deep breath and aloud she spoke, as if to the library, “ Okay.”

She looked around the library and then placed the book in the bag next to Feth Fiada. “I think we should stay here for tonight.” She said as she stood.

Maelan and Kyron stood alongside her as she descended back down the levels, “We should make a fire. There’s a hearth at the far end of the library” Maelan said as he passed Kyron and Sorcha.

Kyron agreed stating “there’s plenty of kindling.”

Maelan began laughing “I’m not sure the magical library would be okay with that unless it has a pile of books it hates.”

As they reached the bottom floor at the farthest corner of the library was a massive hearth made of marble that mirrored the floors. Alongside it, a stack of books and a pile of old logs that were covered in cobwebs and dust. Sorcha pulled books from the pile, each one was about insects.

“I think the library hates bugs…” Sorcha stated as she combed through them. Suddenly a book of bugs was torn to shreds by invisible hands, paper confetti dropping all around them and a loud disgusted groan filled the air.

”I believe that was a yes,” Kyron spoke aloud, and the library responded with more books on insects appearing by the hearth,

Kyron and Maelan made quick work of cleaning out the hearth and starting the fire, the library excitedly throwing the books into the fire. Sorcha wiggled her toes and fingers in front of flames, letting the warmth spread through her. They all sat together as Sorcha tried to open the book again. Kyron and Maelan didn’t bother her, instead they stood and kept themselves busy with their sword skills. Practicing what they had been taught. She watched as their shadows swords clashed, their bodies twisting and shifting in the soft glow of orange. She moved her hands across the book, feeling the edges, taking in the way the cover felt. Her eyes strained to focus, so she laid her head upon her bag and watched their shadows move. It was like watching a ballet carved from darkness, every parry a pirouette, their movements rhythmic. The sounds of their voices and swords lulling her to sleep.

In the dead of night, Sorcha awoke to the loud groan, her body shook as tremors ran through the library. The Firelight flickered as something massive shifted near the far wall. Dust spiraled up, catching the Firelight like glitter. Maelan rose fast, hand on his rapier. Kyron was already in front of Sorcha. From the shadows a wolf stepped through. It moved slowly, its silver fur catching the edges of the light. As it neared, the wolf bent and shifted. Bones reformed, and snapping clean. The man who emerged stood tall, broad shouldered, wrapped in a heavy cloak his silver hair pulled back into a knot.

A scar traced one cheek. “You’re not easy to track.” The man said.

Kyron’s sword dropped, “Conall.”

Conall stepped fully into the firelight, and for a moment, his expression cracked just enough to show the relief. “You’re alive.”

Kyron let out a breath and crossed the space between them. He clapped a hand to Conall’s shoulder. “Barely.”

“I figured,” Conall said, “I saw fire from the ridge.“

Kyron stepped back. “You followed?”

Conall nodded. “We were stationed near the edge of the forest, monitoring the veil. When the wind shifted, I caught your scent. I left the group and followed the trail into the forest to the city.”

“You came through the city?” Kyron asked in disbelief.

“No. I used the old tunnel, one of ours. It runs beneath the lower ridge. Only the Ossory use it. I wasn’t sure it would still open.”

He looked at the ruined shelf above, moonlight filtering through the glass, his gaze moving to the scattered pages and books.

His eyes shifted to Sorcha. “What was hidden in this place… isn’t anymore.”