Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 132625 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132625 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
A crack echoes off the walls. We turn to the door just as Misha throws himself through it, chest heaving, eyes wild. He throws out a hand, sending magic pulsing across the room. Konner flies through the air before hitting the wall and falling to the ground.
“Misha! Wait!”
He throws himself in front of me, still glaring at Konner.
“Don’t hurt him.” I grip Misha’s shoulder. “I’m fine.”
He spins and looks me over, blinking when it seems to register that I’m unharmed and in my own form. “You’re okay. I’ve been searching this whole damn palace for you, but you’re okay.”
Konner gingerly picks himself up off the floor and glares at Misha. “You know how to make one hell of a first impression,” he mutters.
Chapter Thirty-One
Jasalyn
Natan places his hand over the doorknob and it glows red, lighting up the dark stoop of the old cottage.
I look around nervously. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” I ask for the third time.
As Kendrick promised, we waited until after dark to return to the cottage, but we brought Natan with us this time.
“He’ll be able to check the house for magic,” Kendrick said. I didn’t question the vague explanation. Natan seems to always have a way to get more information, and I trust this time is no different.
Unlike earlier, the streets are quiet, but the Fairscape sentinels aren’t known for being understanding and I hate to think what could happen to my friends if we’re caught.
“Come on in,” Natan says, nudging the door open with a smile.
We file into the small cottage, Kendrick staying close to me and Natan making quick work of casting a floating orb of light into the air. I expect the room to be like it was when I was here before, but there’s nothing more than the table the witch stood behind when I brought back the book. There’s no sign of the tattered library I remember stacked against the back wall, and there are no shelves or apothecary supplies littering the tabletop. “She moved everything out,” I say, looking around slowly.
Natan scans the room, then slowly walks its perimeter, sprinkling something along the edge of the floor as he goes.
“That will help him see what kind of magic was used and created in this space,” Kendrick explains. “Anything more than common magic will leave its mark behind.”
“So you’re saying that’s magical dust,” I say, cocking a brow. “But won’t the people looking for magic users notice this?”
“By the time they track it to this cottage, we’ll be long gone,” Natan says. He dumps the last of the dust and steps into the middle of the room, standing near the table. Right when I’m about to ask what he’s looking for, slashes of colorful light streak around the room.
“That’s from magic?” I ask, watching the light move. There’s a blue streak by the front door and red and yellow particles seem to dance around each other where the apothecary shelves were.
“What does all this mean?” I ask, trailing the moving lights in awe.
“First, you can see that it’s Eloran magic,” Natan says.
“How do you know that?”
He shrugs. “Lots of experience, mostly. Eloran magic and Faerie magic leave different marks behind. But this”—he points to a swirl of lavender and blue floating in the middle of the room—“this is the trail of Echo magic.”
“Echo magic? Like what Felicity does?”
“That’s right,” Natan says.
“Do you two see that?” Kendrick asks, nodding to a place on the wall where the light outlines what looks like a doorway.
“That wasn’t there a minute ago,” I say.
Kendrick narrows his eyes. “That doesn’t look Eloran.”
Natan steps toward it and cocks his head to the side. “You’re right. I don’t remember there being a door here, do you?”
“There weren’t any doors. At least none we could see,” Kendrick says, stepping up to the outline and pressing on the wall. The wall falls away, and a burst of light fills the room, blinding me to everything else.
When my vision returns, I can make out a small room behind the hidden door, and in the corner, a book sits, calling to me.
“The witch left it here,” I murmur, shocked.
“Is that what I think it is?” Kendrick asks.
I nod numbly. “That’s the Grimoricon.” It’s sitting in the corner in its true form, surrounded by magical wards so intense I can feel the energy rolling off them.
“Do you think it’s a trap?” Natan asks.
“Oddly, I don’t.” I remember how it felt to have that book in my hands, remember how it called to me before I picked it up. This time is no different. If anything, it’s stronger now—that rightness and sense of home. Maybe because of my connection to Mab. Maybe because the book literally contains the keys to my salvation.
“Why would she leave it here?”
Giddiness bubbles in my chest. “She wouldn’t have. Not unless she didn’t have a choice. Not unless it refused to go with her.” Natan and Kendrick are both staring at me, waiting for an explanation. “It changes forms. When I brought it here, it fought like mad to avoid going to the witch.”