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“Do you think this place has hidden passageways?”
“Maybe.” Penbrook reconsidered. “Likely.”
And so even in the rooms that sat more or less empty, they pressed moldings and pulled on unlit sconces, discovering secret little cubbies stuffed with children’s long-forgotten treasures—brass knights on their steeds, dried flowers sapped of color—and short passages that led from one room to another, so dusty, it was immediately obvious that no one had entered them for decades. In the rooms where furniture remained, they poked through dresser drawers and wardrobes, a few of which still held garments that hung from their hangers like moth-bitten ghosts.
From one of the rear-facing rooms, Fia peered out the window, able to see everyone at the ball down below, but not Andromeda or Sebastian individually. He might have moved on from her by now.
And what if he came inside?
“We’re taking too much time,” Fia fretted, knowing the only thing that could help them search more quickly was magic. If it would even work for her. If it wouldn’t trigger some magical alarm. “Maybe I should try a finding spell,” she recklessly ventured.
“All right.”
“Now that we’re closer to the grimoire—assuming it’s really somewhere in the manor—maybe we’ll have a chance of narrowing down its location. Proximity might weaken a ward, don’t you think? I’m sure I can do it without…” Causing a disaster like the one I made with my dress. “I can do it without any mayhem. I know you’ve only seen the worst of my magic… wait.” She stopped her rambling appeal. “Did you say all right?”
“We don’t have all night, so you might as well try.”
Penbrook didn’t suggest he spin the spell instead, even though he really was much better at casting. Her unpredictable magic simply didn’t seem to bother him.
“Just come away from the window”—he grinned—“so no one sees you sparkling.”
She glared at him, but she didn’t want to risk giving them away, so they moved into the hallway.
Fia sifted through all the many finding spells in her head, the ones that had failed to locate her mother’s book of enchantments. But she wasn’t going to think of failure now, so as she drew what she thought to be the strongest spell to the forefront of her mind, she let her magic slip warmly and gently through her body, asking as little of it as she could.
The spell whispered inside her, searching out The Book of Ribs, not as a demand but as a request. Will you let me find you?
Pfff. A quiet release of breath, the sound Penbrook made when magic lifted in sparks of gold from her fingers—just as it was doing now.
“I’m trying to concentrate,” she admonished. “And the last thing I need is you making sounds.”
“I can’t help it.”
“Penn—”
“It’s harmless.”
“It’s distracting.”
“So is the fact that you shimmer the air around you.” He looked at her… well, he looked at her almost dreamily.
Why was he watching her like that? With that hazy sheen to his eyes and a lopsided smile? He leaned to the side, his shoulder meeting the nearest doorway, the only thing holding him up.
“Oh no,” she moaned. Of course he hadn’t been looking at her dreamily—he’d only been tipping into dreams. “You can’t fall asleep now.”
“I’m just resting.”
“That will have to wait.” Fia pulled him away from the door so he stood straight again, and at the same time, a jolt shuddered through her, not only from the clasp of their hands but from the magic she’d called upon.
The spell was answering her, tingling along her spine with a strange and uncomfortable urgency.
Nevertheless, hauling Penbrook along, she chased the invisible cord drawn between her and The Book of Ribs. It was a wholly unpleasant feeling, as if the grimoire had sent its cold tendrils to welcome her, made of twisted ropes of hair and boneless lengths of skin.
Unbalanced, she followed the pull back down the hall and up to the third floor, banking left without questioning which direction she should go. Just knowing.
With a sickening lurch, the grimoire reeled her in faster and faster, past several closed doors, and then she stopped in front of the only one left open.
“It’s here?” Penbrook asked, doing his best to blink away his fatigue.
