Page 23 of Poisoned Empire

She carefully guided his sagging head back down onto the pages of an open book. Flying on silent slippers, Selene passed row after row of chained books and scrolls sitting upon endless shelves in a darkened chamber. It was nearly a minute before she reached it, quickly spying the title. She took a steadying breath before taking out her bar and setting to work on the chain.

Prying it loose took much too long, and she was sweating with anxious exhilaration when she wrenched the connecting post out of the thick wooden shelf. One last tug, and the chain slipped free from its anchor. Not a moment too soon, as frenzied shouting echoed down the empty stacks. Selene assessed her options. Outrun the people rushing towards her, hide, or take her chances out the narrow window?

The window creaked terribly when opened, and the view was disastrous. An impossibly narrow ledge looked over a straight drop to the manicured lawns below. Hiding it was! After tossing her bar out the window, Selene scrambled up the ledges of the shelves and laid herself flat, making sure no fabric from her long tunic draped over the edge of the bookcase. She laid the book down carefully in front of her. The bookcases were incredibly tall, and it was highly unlikely even an average-sized man would be able to see her lying on top in the gloom.

Several guards burst onto the scene, surveying the damage to the bookcase and the chain’s anchor lying discarded on the floor. The librarian peered out the window and blanched at the sight of her bar on the greens below, muttering as he swayed on his feet about her leaping with the book in tow. He ordered the guards to search the grounds, sending them off before following close behind.

Once quiet had descended amongst the musty leather and old parchment, Selene clambered down the bookcase. Book in hand, she casually slipped out of the library, using the billowing nature of her borrowed tunic and robe to hide the book against her stomach.

She was about to turn a corner back towards her room when a group of guards with another librarian in tow came storming down the hallway. Frantic, she stepped behind a tired-eyed serving girl heading for an alcove, ensuring her footfalls were silent. The servant created a small flame in her hand and pushed on the vase decorating the alcove. It swung inwards, revealing a narrow, winding staircase inside the walls. Selene crept in behind her before the entrance disappeared.

Everything truly was better in the capital, even the mages. Most elemental mages could only manipulate their element if it were already in front of them. Only nobles received the expert training to conjure it from nothing. Selene waited for a few breaths before trying to exit, but the mechanism was stuck. She cursed her rotten luck. She hid in the damp dark considering her options, the weak light of the magic flame ascending the staircase her only illumination. The serving girl soon found her destination and departed.

Selene scrabbled in the pitch black, hoping she’d be able to find the next alcove. One arm around her book, the other searching the outer wall of the spiral staircase, she eventually felt another lever mechanism. Was it the same exit the servant had used? It opened into a dim room, light snoring the only sound within. Selene snuck inside, unable to see more than thin strand of light not far from her. Just as she reached for that light, she tripped on a discarded bottle, falling face first. Instead of hitting a wall or the floor, her fall was broken—by a curtain? The sound of glass shattering and fabric ripping accompanied the blinding light of full morning.

“Ah, Belli, not now.”

Unsure who Belli might be, Selene surged to her feet and rushed for the door.

“I’ll return later,” she whispered.

An old man grumbled and pulled the sheets over his head. The cavernous room screamed its owner’s wealth and power, ornate in a way she’d never dreamed possible. Gratuitous use of the best oozed from every surface—silks that shone like polished silver, gleaming wooden furniture, rugs so plush she’d have slept comfortably on them, arranged between gold-flecked mosaics. There were gold and jewel-encrusted decorations, ceremonial swords, oil paintings and fine tapestries strung up along the walls. She’d thought the palace halls and her assigned quarters were richly decorated but she’d been wrong. The room was a thief’s wet dream, and she didn’t have time to swipe any of it. Just as she reached the door, a ball of fire slammed into the metal handle. Gasping, she leapt back from the searing heat.

“You’re not Belli. What are you doing with that book?” the old man growled. He pulled the covers off and stepped out of the bed, glaring at her with his red eyes. An old warrior by the looks of his stocky body, softened from disuse and drink, his long, greying black hair and grizzled beard comically messy.

“Are you simple?! Obviously, I’m stealing it!” Selene snapped, royally pissed at being foiled by some grizzled old snob.

“And now you’re trapped in here with me, thief.”

The old man grinned. It was obvious he relished a good fight. Fire coated his palms, painting his golden brown skin in a hellish light. He was a competent fire mage. This might prove tricky.

“Wrong, you old lizard.You’retrapped in here withme. Catch!”

Selene tossed the book straight at him. The old man snuffed the fire from his palms and gently caught it. As he was fumbling over it, she vaulted at him, her favourite paralytic coating her palms in less than a second. Noticing her charge, he tossed the book aside, but not fast enough. She smeared his right arm—his dominant, if she were correct. In seconds he would be stiff as a board and unable to direct his fire, though still able to breathe. Or so she thought.

“Fuck!”

He lit up his entire right arm in flames.

Instead of collapsing, he turned to her with a new light in his eyes, right arm hanging useless by his side and unable to produce flame. They danced around each other, avoiding any serious blows. The longer they dodged each other, the more evident it became that, useless arm or not, she would never get another direct shot at the old warrior. Her only chance at victory would be to play dirty. Just how she liked it.

Selene was sweating from the heat but grinning like a madwoman, an expression her quarry mirrored. As she dodged blows, she kicked off her slippers, allowing her bare feet contact with the mosaic floors, spreading a poison which required heat to activate. She only had one other poison that could be effective against a fire mage, but it was lethal, and she didn’t want to murder a well-connected nobleman if she could help it. Killing nobles was a sticky business, after all.

“Is that all the heat a dried-up old goat like you can produce? Can’t even hit a little girl. Fucking pathetic!”

That did the trick. Both his legs and left arm blazed with fire. Selene had to leap out of the way. The smell of burning cloth had her tearing off her robe and tunic, leaving her in nothing but a slip and her panties. Her clothes smoked and dissolved in flames. Just as she had hoped, her poison turned into a hazy smoke, rendering the old fire mage high on the concentrated fumes. His fires sputtered out, legs wobbling like jelly before he fell onto his rear, laughing hysterically.

Selene grinned and used two plates leftover from a meal on the terrace to scoop up her charred clothes and toss them into the fireplace. Shockingly, nothing else in the room had been set ablaze. Perhaps an enchantment spared them? As the old man tried to hold in girlish giggles, she retrieved her book and tried the door handle. It was hot but firm to the touch. The doors were immoveable. The metal handles had melted down the space between the doors and hardened, effectively sealing her inside.

“Fuck!”

Selene ran for the alcove and pushed just as the serving girl had done before, but it wouldn’t budge. She threw herself at it to no avail. Trapped.

“Does that sometimes,” the old man giggled. “Guess you’re stuck with me, ha!”

Selene stalked out onto the terrace to see what opportunities she might have, but, to her great dismay, it looked out over the very garden in which she was supposed to drink tea shortly. That garden was also very, very far below her.

“Going to jump in your undergarments?” the old man teased her.

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