Page 90 of Deadly Maiden

“I could go alone? I know you detest?—”

“No.” He stops and swings his beloved rucksack off his shoulder, drops it to the cobblestones, unbuckles it, and checks inside. I hear the clink of coin. “That Mage’s Essentials sells charged crystals. I’ll buy a couple.” He eyes me, purses his mouth. “No. Make it four.”

“Four?” I’m so astonished at his willingness to spend. I sputter out, “That many?”

“I hate ghosts.”

That will tide us over for another week.

Day Six

I wake in Rorsyd’s bed and take ages to reorient myself. These are his rooms, the ceiling is different—slatted timber. We’re above that tavern, the Tusked Woorak. And we both drank too much last night due to Rorsyd showing off his precious cellar of wines and spirits. I’m probably ninety-nine percent whiskey and Bordresk right now. When I pat the sheets, I discover an absence of warm male body beside me. Of course he’s not with me. The bed is too small.

I groan at my headache and turn over. The room wavers then settles, and I find him.

Rorsyd is sleeping on a blanket in the middle of the floor. To my horror, Anathema is curled up at his feet looking supremely comfortable. I hiss and widen my eyes, send a mental shout.He stretches and yawns, totters to his feet, pretends to groom himself, the little bastard, then slinks to the shadows of the open closet and disappears in there.

Is that a safe place?No answer.

Considering what he’s made of, Anathema can hide in the crack behind the door. I should stop fussing. I sit up and cling to the edge of the bed. This may be the first time I’ve woken before Rorsyd. Then again, he did drink far more than me. Two bottles of that two-hundred-year-old red stuff went down his throat? And one of the whiskeys.

He used a goblet, so it was not uncouth, just excessive…for a normal-sized fae.

No wonder he’s still asleep.

The sun has sneaked past the curtains and is glaring at me with nasty shafts of light, so it must be time to get up. I wander over and nudge him with my foot. “Psst. Wake-up time.”

He rolls over and blinks up at me. “Oh. Okay. Library, right?”

I nod then go to find my daytime clothes. I must go shopping soon. These green-gray leggings look faded, and my shirt has a mark or two. My jacket is fine though.

This room. I turn in a circle.

I saw it last night but was thoroughly drunk for much of it. Shelf upon shelf of books greet me, and a few vintage bottles—more reds, more whites—and collectable toys? A mobile on the ceiling shows several enameled and bejeweled dragons chasing each other. I keep moving into the living room where the clocks are—three of them, because this is Rorsyd who collectsanything. And there is the time. Breakfast hour was long ago.

“Where is the bath?” I ask loudly.

“Oh.” Rorsyd props himself up against the door frame with both hands. His pants are on, so that’s a start. “It’s a shared public bathroom, down the hallway. Let’s go together.”

We arrive at the library later than usual, and I have to assure Kyvin that nothing has gone wrong before we return to the building.

The necromancy book I found yesterday is quite wrong and hopeless. I flick through it and find nothing of any use. It’s all history and hearsay. I close it, run my hand over the dimpled leather. The all-black cover and gold-embossedNECROMANCY FOR THE AGESlooks wonderfully enticing and suits necromancy. Such a pity.

“How big is the magik section?” I ask Rorsyd as I push out my chair.

Head in hand, he’s studying a book on, of all things, flying insects. He drops his palm to it with a smack and looks up. “Oh. Miles and miles of books. Let me show you.”

It is miles. A lot. Numerous book-carts in length. I remember my old, invented measurement from when I traveled with Bethy and Fiorn. Rorsyd stands where I began walking and he’s the size of a fairy. The bookshelves on magik extend into this right wing all this distance from the fake necro book I just reshelved. None of the books I passed seem dedicated to necromancy. From the shelf labels, they’re either purely one of the other branches of magik, like fire, ice, wind, or blood, or they cover a bit of everything. Disappointing.

I pick several that show the most promise and head back to my original table.

Chapter 27

KrollKrasten

Father,

I don’t have much time to write this. Thank you for your reply. I can’t meet you in Darsum or Bollingham as you know. The safest for me is somewhere outside of a town. I enclose a hand drawn map. Darsum will pass near where I marked. There is an old house with a broken green roof and a well at the X. I can be there tomorrow early, about an hour after sunrise.

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