Page 92 of Soul of Thorns
Caelynn
Take me. Use me. Bendme to your will.
The whispers rush from the book, its magic wafting from it in waves of cold and warmth. Power pulses, eager for me to wield it. A red glow emanates from deeper in the cave, and behind me a cloud of white steam blocks sight of my exit.
My fingers ache to grip the leather binding, to feel the power.
Yesss.
I stumble a step back, realization and panic hitting me like a truck—it reminds me so much of the Night Bringer’s magic. Will I be able to control it, or will it take control of me?
I am not like the Night Bringer,the book hisses softly.
I wrinkle my nose. “Well of course you’d say that.”
“Come closer, shadow fae.”
I jump at the voice, so much louder now. Closer, even though I’ve stepped two feet back.
“I will show you,” it says.
My teeth chatter, still unsure. But I came all the way forthis. I can’t wimp out now. If this book is as evil as the Night Bringer and his mate, then I am doomed either way. At least this way, the chances that the Night Bringer will take my soul and get what he wants are slimmer.
“I have every answer you’ve ever sought. I can show you all or nothing, you choose. You can wield my knowledge, no one else.”
Me. “No one else?” I knew the Night Bringer needed me to use the book to break the curse. But am I the only one able to use the book entirely?
“Only you as of three days ago.”
“What happened three days ago?”
“Your father died. I don’t suspect you’ll want to know the details.”
Dead.
Icy cold grief whooshes through my already weak body. I haven’t seen my father in a decade. I hadn’t expected to ever see him again. And yet—it hurts to know he’s gone.
Since the wraith brought up the Night Bringer going after my father, that’s been stuck in my mind. I technically knew he had the right blood but not the power needed, and so I hadn’t thought more of it. But if the Night Bringer grew desperate—
“How?” I force out of trembling lips.
“The Night Bringer perused him, though he fled to another court. When cornered, your father took his own life.”
I press my hand over my mouth. Another life stolen by the Night Bringer. I don’t even want to get into how in the world a book would know about it.
“I am the Book of All, shadow fae,” the book whispers. “I know all.”
I look up to the pedestal, soft purple lights twinkling above it. “You know all?”
“All that has been, yes.”
“But not the future?”
“No. That would be impossible, and rather impractical, seeing as it changes moment by moment.”
I force myself up on wobbly feet. “Okay, book, tell me this.” I feel so utterly stupid talking to a book and calling it by name, but I will admit it’s a decent distraction. “Where is Rev?”
“Your mate is with the Night Terror in the valley below the mountain.”
