Page 79 of The Prince and His Stolen Throne
All his words were on the page.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The trees stopped in a perfect straight line. Even the roots froze in place, unable to squirm past the invisible barrier. The line stretched a hundred feet both ways before making a sharp left on one side, and a sharp right on the other, forming one half of a square clearing.
In the center of the clearing stood a white building, untouched by the forest, barely touched by time. The windows were foggy, the cobblestone path was a little overgrown, all things normal for a slightly neglected public facility.
The building’s name was carved into the stone in big, welcoming letters: Eramthgin Library. The clean, warm atmosphere invited weary travelers to come inside, find a book, and stay a while. Or stay forever.
It was obviously a trap.
“Great idea, Fitz,” I muttered as I paced the boundary. For once, the trees seemed like the safer option. To ward off the curse, the library’s defenses would need to be long-lasting and powerful. They didn’tneed to be smart. Could they tell the difference between an intruder and someone seeking shelter?
The changed name also concerned me. Names held meaning, especially when it came to magic. It could be part of the protection spell, a way to hide itself from the curse. Or it could be a side-effect—if the library changed after the curse, the name could have changed with it.
A branch rustled overhead. I jerked my head up, seeking the threat in the canopy, and found a small figure crouched on one of the limbs. “Delilah?”
She craned her neck to peer down at me. “Trey!” Her muscles flexed, preparing to jump.
My eyes widened and I held up my hands to ward her off. “No, don’t—”
She sprang off the branch and landed in my outstretched arms. The sudden weight sent us both crashing to the ground in a pile of awkward limbs. “Next time—” she blew fluffy hair out of her face “—either catch me or get out of my way so I can catch myself.”
I groaned and shoved her off. “I amnotcarrying you through the woods because you broke your ankle doing something stupid.”
“I’m a cat, I would land on my feet.”
I glared at her.
“Probably.”
A strong hand grabbed my arm, and I looked up at Maximus. “Thanks,” I muttered as he helped me to my feet.
He nodded silently, his eyes scanning me for injuries, then moving on to Delilah. Once he confirmed we’d only sustained a few bruises, he asked, “Has anyone seen Fitz?”
We looked around the trees, waiting for him to pop out and declare himself. When he didn’t, our gazes slowly turned to the library. From the beginning, he’d been excited about the Traumstead Library’s collection and history. What were the chances that, seeing it intact, he hadn’t forged ahead without thought to his own safety?
“Shit. We’re going to have to go in after him, aren’t we?” I muttered.
The silence stretched on for a long time.
Delilah dropped to all fours, below the windows’ line of sight, and scampered forward. When she reached the doors, she pressed both hands against them and pushed as hard as she could. Nothing. They didn’t even budge. She switched her grip to the handle and yanked backwards, putting her full weight into it, until she was almost sitting on the ground. Still hanging onto the handle, she looked over her shoulder at us. “It’s locked.”
Maximus pulled a set of lockpicks from his bag and took Delilah’s place at the door. I hung back a few steps, keeping one eye on the dark forest, the other on the library windows. If anyone moved in either place, we’d need to run.
“I don’t like this,” Delilah muttered, her ears pressing against her head. “How did Fitz get in if the door is locked?”
“Maybe he found a side door.” We exchanged a look, silently agreeing that wasn’t likely.
Maximus made quick work of the locks and pushed both double doors open. He glanced over his shoulder and gestured for us to follow.
I drew one of my swords and held it at my side as I walked forward. Head cocked, I listened for any alarms or screams. All I heard was the wind through the trees and Delilah’s soft steps beside me.
Maximus pried a loose stone from the walkway and used it to prop the door open, then followed us inside.
“Excuse me.” The sweet, patient voice drew everyone’s attention to the long desk on the right side of the lobby. A young woman stood behind it, giving us a close-lipped smile. “I’m afraid the library is closed. You’ll have to return during operating hours.”
“We’re looking for our friend,” I explained, stepping forward to put some distance between myself and the others.
