Page 86 of The Prince and His Stolen Throne
The doors groaned in protest as vines appeared, squeezing their way into the smallest cracks. The heavy wood trembled as it withstood the attack. They had protected the library from the cursed forest for half a century. Under Wilde’s assault, they buckled and crumpled in ten seconds.
Awe choked off my protest. Until now, I hadn’t seen the extent of Wilde’s magic.The old man couldn’t have taught him this.This wasn’t showmanship or unearned arrogance—it was pure, raw power, creation and destruction at his fingertips.
The librarian stood framed in the broken doorway. Her form flickered uneasily as she examined the destruction and the mage behind it. “You—you are not welcome here.” Her words held as little substance as she did. “Leave.” She raised her hand to enforce her pronouncement, and the catalog cards rose with it. Before, they’d been a whirlwind, now they were a tentative breeze.
“Don’t presume to command me,ghost. You won’t win this fight.”
The cards yellowed and aged, their edges curling in on each other, disrupting their flight patterns. They collided in midair and burst into clouds of dust.
The librarian appeared in the middle of the cloud, snatching at the particles as if she could gather them all up and fix the destroyed cards. She clutched a handful to her chest and whispered, “I protect the library. They broke the rules, they deserved to be punished.”
At the word ‘punished’, Wilde’s magic thickened the air until it clogged my senses. All I could feel was him. “What right doyouhave to punish him?”
The mural on the ceiling cracked. Chunks of painted stone crashed to the floor. A large piece passed straight through the librarian. She stared down at it in horror, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Maximus growled and lunged toward Wilde, but I shifted to block him. “Wilde, that’s enough!”
Wilde glanced down, taking in my pose—on my knees, just how he liked, hands reaching out to him in supplication. Instead of the appreciation or desire he’d shown previously, the sight only heightened his anger.
Deeper within the library, the bookshelves on either side of the aisles tipped over. They collided with the shelves behind them and sent those falling as well. The books clattered to the floor, adding to the mess.
“Gods, he’s going to destroy the whole library,” Fitz whispered behind us.
I grabbed the front of Wilde’s gray waistcoat and yanked him down until our faces were only a few inches apart. “I’m fine. Nothing a health potion and a bath won’t fix.” To make sure he listened to me, I said the word he wanted to hear most: “Please.”
The pressure from his magic eased and his gaze softened. “You look awful,” he said, cupping my face in his hands.
A relieved smile twitched over my lips. “Taste awful too, I bet.”
He snorted but refused to take my word for it, pressing his lips to mine. Then his face scrunched up, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed a gag. “You really, really do. Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Afraid he meant ‘let me take you back to the master’s lair’, I nodded toward the others. They huddled together, us against them. Maximus stood at the front of the group, arms outstretched to block everyone else, glaring at Wilde. Fitz kept looking between Wilde and the library, not sure which was scarier. Delilah poked her head out from behind Maximus, her furry ears perked in interest.
“There’s an abandoned inn a few blocks away,” Wilde said as he helped me to my feet. His eyes conveyed the silent message:where we were supposed to meet. “You can clean up and rest there.”
Maximus glowered at Wilde. “We’re not going anywhere with you.”
Fitz threadedhis fingers through his hair, clutching his head. “All those books …”
I stepped between them and Wilde. “He was trying to help.”
“The librarian had already let us go,” Maximus said. His words simmered with quiet rage. “He didn’t want to help—he wanted to hurt.”
“Like the librarian hurt Fitz?” I snapped. “Oh, that’s right, you didn’t see the words carved from his skin, because you were too busy being her little assistant.”
Shame flushed Maximus’ cheeks, and he glanced at Fitz before muttering an apology.
Fitz shuddered and clamped a hand over his throat. “I won’t lie, I will have nightmares about her foryears. But—” he glanced at Wilde, then quickly away “—none of that was necessary. And I don’t know who your master is Will—Wilde? But I don’t think that’s the kind of magic a good wizard teaches.”
I stiffened. Had they finally figured it out? Once they connected Wilde to the Lord of Grimnight, it’d only be a matter of time before they questioned how we’d met, what we had in common. “There’s more than just good and evil magic, Fitz. We’re in the real world now, not your sheltered little kingdoms.”
He frowned and corrected, “Oursheltered little kingdoms. That we’re here to protect, or have you forgotten the reason for this quest?”
“So, what, we can only protect the Desolated Lands with ‘good’ and ‘pure’ methods?”
“Well, yes. Obviously.”
Delilah held my gaze for a second before ducking her head and inching behind Maximus, hiding behind his larger frame.
