Page 120 of Captive of Secrets and Storms

My thoughts scramble.

I believed all Fae on the continent could wield shadows, at least a little bit.

If that’s not true…if Marek has control of Eranthia because of the unique skill, does that mean there are other Fae in Astloria who might oppose his rule?

Who might be oppressed like humans?

My satchel slips from my shoulder.

I try to catch it, but with juggling the massive text in my other arm, the bag lands on its side, the flap opening.

“Allow me.” Anders bends down.

He picks up the satchel, and the bag tilts sideways.

The diary slips out, landing with its cover down. Pages open.

My pulse spikes. “I’ll get it⁠—”

Anders already has the diary in his hands. He smiles and turns it over, about to close the book, when his eyes snag on the feminine writing.

He frowns. “This is written in the Fae tongue.”

My stomach drops.

“It’s nothing. I⁠—”

Anders inhales a sharp breath. He flips through the book, eyes widening as he turns every page, until he lands on the final one before the back cover.

Blood roars in my ears.

I reach out to take the book. “It’s nothing, really. Just a family⁠—”

“Mother save us all,” Anders exhales, eyes darting to mine, filling with equal parts wonder and astonishment. “This is Calla Luminara’s diary.”

He points to an elegant scrawl in the bottom left of the second to last page. A signature I never noticed before. A name. The name of the diary’s author.

Calla Luminara.

The name bounces through my skull, but no recognition dawns.

“I-I don’t know who that is.” I step forward, hand still extended. “Please, may I have it back?”

He stares at me. “You said this belongs to your family?”

“No. I mean, not really. It was something my adoptive mother gave me.”

“And where did she get it?”

Every instinct in me screams not to tell him.

“I don’t know,” I lie.

His forehead furrows, gaze snapping between me and the diary.

His eyes unfocus, then they sharpen on me. “Do you know who Calla Luminara is?”

I shake my head.