Page 75 of Shadows Lost
“A good read for those who love tales of outlandish adventure and the daredevil risks of the most powerful shadow fae alive.”
I looked back down, trailing my hand over the delicate script. “The last shadow fae. This book…it’s about me?”
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up feeling his predator-like grin roaming over me. “Yes. You are famous here, little umbra. I told you that. Most shifters see you differently than the fae of Faerie.”
“Oh.” I had no words.
“I have to know.” He stepped closer and took a drink, I could see him watching me intently over the rim of his glass. “Did you really surf the skies upon the wings of the Roc?”
A nervous bubble of laughter escaped me. “The mountain eagles would not appreciate such outlandish tales about them. Surf the skies on their wings? The audacity! Although that would have been a much more pleasant experience.” I shook my head, seeing that time of my life very vividly. “It was more like free falling from their fire-lit talons, thousands of feet in the air. I was forced to use my shadows to saddle-break their leader mid-flight while fending off streams of fire, beaks, and flesh tearing talons. It took me three days to heal. In the end, the Roc finally listened to me.”
Emon chuckled. “Sounds like a good time to me.”
I smiled fondly. “It was.” Closing the book, I frowned. “I was unaware there were books written about me.” I skimmed the black leather cover. “There is no author.”
I could feel Emon’s thoughtful gaze at my back. “These are the accounts from all over Faerie. Told by many fae. Most of it was written in my hand but the stories are not my own. Perhaps one day I may be blessed to have my own tales to recite about you.”
I pressed my lips together and held back the one glaring question I always had when it came to him.
Why?
Except, I was not brave enough to face that answer. Instead, I scanned the wall behind the desk where thousands of volumes were lovingly stacked against it. “May I have access to some of these? There are a few I do not recognize.”
Emon grunted beside me. “Of course. What is mine is yours. You do not need permission from me.”
Spinning I turned to confront him but he had already walked away, back to the bar cart. I studied him curiously…not understanding him at all.
Feeling my scrutiny he waved towards the leather chairs in front of the onyx fireplace. “Sit. I believe I owe you answers—proof and an explanation.”
Following his bidding with gritted teeth I took a seat in the large confines of the leather chair, surprised by the buttery softness holding in the fire’s warmth.
Emon settled himself in the other and sighed, dropping his head back, blinking up at the vaulted ceiling, his drink still gripped loosely in his hand on the arm of the chair.
“Ask.”
Mesmerized by the beauty of his profile, I barely registered he had spoken. “What?”
He chuckled and slowly turned his head towards me with amusement. “Ask your shadows to return my bag to me. They stole it in Faerie, before Kira discovered us.”
I raised my brows at him. “You have an odd habit of trusting other creatures to take care of your things…things that seem to be very important.”
Reaching out and feeling my need for them, the dark plumes of shadow appeared in front of Emon, spitting out his leather satchel straight into his lap.
Emon jolted at the impact and then chuckled fondly at them. “Thank you, my little deviants.”
A small smile graced my lips, he was just as crazy as I was…talking to shadows.
Waving them aside he set his drink down on the side table between us and flipped open the heavy flap of his bag, reaching inward. He rummaged through the contents with excruciating slowness before pausing. There was a slight tick in his jaw, a stiffening of his body, before he exhaled forcefully and pulled from within an ornate black scroll.
I leaned forward in my chair as did the shadows in the room, drawn in by it. “Wheredid you get that?”
Chapter 40
Mypulsethunderedasthe king placed the scroll slowly on the table between us. Lifting his hands in the air he spoke softly. “Your mother gave this to me, Remnant.”
“Why? How?” I could not take a full breath, the shallow rise and fall of my chest falling in rapid succession with the blood pounding in my head.
Emon lowered his hands and gently set his bag to the floor, his eyes never leaving me the entire time. “Before your people were attacked, your mother gave this to me. She said it would one day bring you back to her and then the entire court fled. There was blood spilled that night, yes, but none of it was shadow fae.”
