Page 124 of Keldori By Daybreak

“But what?” I pressed, swinging a flail at my own assailant.

“There’s more. I didn’t have time to write it down. The tides—”

The guard broke through, and Mom kicked him in the gut. Her Nightmare strength launched him across the exhibit, but two more guards took his place.

“Mom?”

“I’ll have to explain later! Just promise me you won’t try. Leave it to the others, Wren.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but Mom knocked me to the ground and out of the way of a zipping dart. It crashed into the empty journal case behind us, and the glass shattered on impact.

Mom’s head twisted to face Caitria, and her form shifted as her skin thickened and her hands elongated into claws.

“And you’re the bitch who wants my family dead.” Her voice came out low and monstrous, and Caitria’s eyes widened. “What a genuine pleasure. Wren, my love, run. I’ll see you soon.”

Iseult pulled me to my feet, and I ran from the room with her and Orla, clutching the notebook to my chest and trying not to listen to the screams of soldiers behind us as Mom ripped the room apart.

“This way!” Iseult called. My steps faltered at the sound of Mom roaring, but Orla grabbed my wrist and pulled me forward.

“Orla, I’m sorry,” I panted.

“Don’t,” she snapped.

“Ferrin killed my grandfather,” Iseult said, running several paces ahead of us. “He wanted to kill you.”

“He’s my uncle!”

“And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.” Iseult looked over her shoulder at Orla as she ran. “Even if it means you never speak to me again.”

“We didn’t want to make you responsible for killing your own uncle,” I admitted.

Orla barked a single, cold laugh.

“Or you didn’t trust me!”

“We didn’t tell Fana either,” I said. “Orla, now’s not—”

“Fana is ten, Wren! I’m a grown woman!”

“We’re sorry!” I insisted.

“We are running for our lives right now!” Orla snapped. “I do not care about apologies—I care about surviving long enough to be properly angry at you!”

We skirted into the main body of the library, but Lysanor was waiting. She stood in the center aisle, silver light glowing in her hands.

“They will destroy Willow’s Grave searching for you,” Lysanor said. The air around her rippled and heated, and the silver embellishments on her robes gleamed in the light of her power. “And for what? So you can go home, little Keldorian? No one here will have a home.”

“We’re sealing the—”

“The Rift! Yes! I know. The same damn Rift that my home was sacrificed to fifty years ago. The same damn Rift we will continue to tear each other apart over as long as it remains standing.” Lysanor’s power swelled, and Iseult stepped forward, ready to take the brunt of it. “Perhaps it is time we let the Rift die, and if that means you die with it then—”

A shadow shifted between the bookshelves behind Lysanor, and a heavy book swung into her head. Lysanor’s magick evaporated, leaving us in nothing but the light of the opal veins in the floor and the halo cast by Iseult’s leg. Taj, the library assistant, dropped the book she’d just used as a bludgeon and caught Lysanor as she collapsed to the floor.

“Lysanor’s a good woman,” Taj said, her glasses slipping down her nose, “but she’s as much an outsider as the Baron’s guards. I have no quarrel with you, though I’ll probably tell her you’re the ones who hit her if you don’t mind. I’d like to keep my job.”

“Tell her I did it,” Iseult said.

Lysanor stirred in Taj’s arms, and her eyelids fluttered.