Page 26 of The Midnight King
“Come and view the secret vault,” he calls.
Opening my eyes, I hurry toward the sound of his voice.
He’s standing between two of the reading alcoves. What looked like a wall between them is now a doorway leading into a small yet cozy room, with bookshelves of gleaming yellow oak. On the floor lie three huge white cushions in which someone could nestle while reading. A small chandelier with frosted glass hangs overhead, white antlers branching from it toward the ceiling.
I step inside, afraid to breathe lest it disappear. “This is the vault? Are there any books about breaking spells?”
“To be honest, I haven’t spent much time in here.”
“But the Prince said you like to study the realms.”
“Well, yes… but I haven’t read many of the books on Faerie magic,” he explains. “My specialty is mostly volumes on cosmic philosophy. But we can look for some books about spellcraft. Is there a particular kind of spell you need to break?”
I want to tell him everything. The words flow to the tip of my tongue, but when I part my lips to speak them, the anklet grows hot as a warning. The King didn’t seem to notice my anklet last night or tonight, and I’m not about to draw hisattention to the fact that I’m wearing an object of malevolent magic.
“I have a friend in need of help,” I say. “I’m sorry, I can’t explain more than that.”
“Hm.” He looks pensive. “We have no palace sorcerer whose services I can offer.”
“I know. A little information will be enough. Thank you.”
As I move to enter the vault, he bars my way with his arm, his expression sober. “You wanted this all along. Access to this room.”
“Yes,” I admit.
“And you thought, by getting close to me, the path would be cleared for you to enter it.”
I pucker my lips, trying to think of a lie, but I swerve back to honesty again. “I did think that, yes. But believe me—I would have fucked you even if there was no such vault. You’ve made me feel more liberated and more alive these two nights than I’ve felt in seventeen years.”
He tilts his head. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-six.”
“There’s quite a gap between our ages.”
“I don’t care.” Impulsively I take his hand and kiss his knuckles. There’s a haunted hurt in his eyes, and I desperately want to erase it. “Please believe that I didn’t do this just to see the vault. In fact, if I weren’t trying to help someone, I would walk right out of here and prove to you that my interest was—and is—sincere.”
“I will forgive you for this,” he says, “if you will promise to forgive me for something.”
“Of course. What is it?”
“A future sin.”
I frown. “That’s cryptic.”
“So are you.” The corner of his perfect lips twitches upward, and he sweeps his arm toward the vault in a welcominggesture. “Come, let us search together for books about breakingspells.”
9
I’m late again.
My carriage disappeared halfway down the lane to Eisling House, and my clothes vanished a few minutes later. So I’m walking naked and barefoot over gravel, cursing my lack of attention to the time. It’s freezing, but I’m so frustrated about my visit to the vault that the cold seems like a secondary concern.
If the King and I had found anything useful, I might be in a better mood. A chapter in one of the books mentioned the Unending Pool, a place in the Fae realm whose water can break any curse. The liquid my Faerie godfather poured over the anklet must have been from that pool. There’s also a well in some part of Faerie whose water interferes with a Fae’s ability to heal or to perform magic. Which doesn’t help me at all.
I found information about kisses, death, and soul-bonds having the power to shatter some kinds of dark spells. There are specific weapons that can destroy charmed objects, but nothing I could obtain in a day or two. I wouldn’t even know where to start looking. Finding those weapons would require quests I haveno time for, journeys I can’t undertake with my stepmother’s will confining me to this town.
Gilda can only give me commands when I’m close enough to hear her; but since the anklet connects us, she can exert her will to call me into her presence anytime she wishes, no matter how much distance lies between us. I tested that distance once, at age thirteen, when I tried to run away. I paid for a wagon ride with a merchant and traveled for ten hours before I felt her calling me. The force of the call was so compelling that I leaped from the wagon and began running in the direction of Eisling House. When I finally made it back, Gilda told me to beat my own legs with switches until they bled. I still have the scars all over my shins and thighs.