Page 65 of A Liar's Twisted Tongue

Not to mention, Wendy killed it. A Eunoia. It’s not that I care, but the rest of her kind will. Killing and Eunoia do not go hand in hand. Their power is life.

“Alright. I have another location.” I pivot toward the steps to one of the dusty old Royals’ rooms, stopping by my suite and calling Azaire on the way. Wendy gives him a slow nod without eye contact.

We head up the stairs and I close the door. Wendy pulls a book from her bag. “I found this in my mom’s study. It’s glamoured.”

A philosophy book: The Mendacity of Good and Evil.

“How do you know?” I ask.

“For one, this book is written by Shenlin, not Marto. Second, it doesn’t feel like my ma or anything else in her study.”

“Can I see it?” Azaire asks her softly.

“Yes,” Wendy whispers and takes a deep breath, handing him the book.

He flips through the pages and stops three-quarters of the way through. “They didn’t get the book right.”

“Whoever glamoured it was in a hurry,” Wendy observes. “Whatever it is was valuable enough to not warrant destruction.”

“Or it was indestructible,” I offer.

“Why wouldn’t they just take it?” she says.

Azaire closes the book and hands it back to her. “Things are best hidden in plain sight.”

“There’s more,” Wendy adds. “Whatever this is, I think it came from Lorucille.”

Azaire and I exchange a look. “May I see the book?” I ask.

When the book is in my hand, I try deftly to pull apart the components of the glamour. Glamour magic is a form of mental magic—the physical objects do not truly change, they only appear different to an untrained eye.

Perhaps it is because I am a Lucent, or perhaps it is because of Labyrinth’s incessant words about physical strength paling in comparison to mental strength, but I’ve always been adept at pulling apart a glamour to see the truth of it. Not with this one, however. Try as I might, the book remains a book, said to be written by Marto when it was truly written by Shenlin.

I hand the book back to Wendy with defeat, and finally a question is spoken. “Why?”

Wendy answers, “I found papers, all signed and stamped by Queen Melody and King Easton.” I give Azaire a look as we both weigh our options. To disclose or conceal? Wendy gives us both a scrutinizing look, back and forth, and says, “Tell me.”

Damn Eunoia.

Azaire is the one to answer, “Lorucille is making a weapon.”

“You’ve seen it?” she asks, but it’s more a statement than a question. “That’s where you came from? When Azaire was half dead.”

“Yes,” I answer.

“You lied to me.” She looks at me like I’ve committed the worst of betrayals.

“You would’ve known if I’d lied.”

“At what point does omitting the truth become a lie?” Wendy says.

“When you’re intentionally hiding something,” Azaire answers.

“Yes,” I admit to Wendy. “I lied.”

“I told you not to be vague about my mother,” Wendy whisper-shouts. Then her gaze snaps to Azaire. “Did he tell you?”

Azaire stutters, “Tell me what?”

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