Stolen Songbird(76)

“They aren’t my laws,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “But I have to live by them too.”

My head jerked up and down in understanding. The half-bloods were not the only malcontents in Trollus. I wondered how many more full-bloods were secret sympathizers and whether Tristan knew about them. Or whether they knew about him?

The lift lurched to a halt, and the guild member clambered off Tips and hurried through the crowd. Stunned, the gang and I set to unloading our crates and taking the gold down to where it would be sorted. All I could do was pray that the guild member wouldn’t tell anyone he’d seen me in the mines, because if he did, I would have some serious explaining to do.





CHAPTER 19





CéCILE





For days after my visit to the mines I laid low, afraid that the Miners’ Guild member would reveal my little excursion and that word would get back to the King. Before sneaking out of the palace to go to the mines, I hadn’t been too concerned about getting caught, because how bad could the ramifications be? Just more guards, or better ones at any rate. Sneaking me in and out of the palace had been surprisingly easy. Restrictions on my freedom? That was certainly possible, but not the end of the world. But now that I’d had time to think about it and stew in a pot of worry, I realized that while getting caught might not hurt me, it would hurt those with whom I’d gotten involved.



Tristan had explained the half-bloods’ situation, but I hadn’t really understood until I’d spent a night in their shoes. It was Tips and his gang who had made me feel just how little those in power valued the lives of the half-bloods, and how one small transgression could cost them their lives – lives that were already at risk every time they stepped into the mines. I realized how much they were risking by even considering a rebellion, and what failure would cost them. And knowing what I did now, being able to close my eyes and remember faces and names… it made me willing to risk my own life to help them. But to help, I needed to know more.

I had only seen the library from the outside. In fact, I had never been inside a library before, and nothing could have prepared me for the magnitude of the place. Rows and rows of shelves stretched through the building, some so tall that their tops were obscured by darkness. I would have been at a loss about where to begin, but fortunately, the library was not empty.

Leaving my guards at the front, élise and I walked towards the telltale glow of troll-light until I came upon a man bent over a large book, quill in hand. He leapt up at our approach, and I noticed he had an ink stain smeared across the bridge of his nose.

“My lady.” He bowed awkwardly and pushed his thick spectacles back up his nose. They promptly slipped back down again.

“Are you a librarian, sir?” I asked politely.

“Fourth librarian, if it please you, my lady.”

I didn’t overly care if he was fourth or fortieth, so long as he could help me find what I needed. “I am hoping you can help me with some… er…” I glanced at élise, who was examining the titles on one of the shelves, “research.”

“On what subject, my lady?”

I took the librarian’s arm and led him deeper into the stacks. élise seemed content to stay where she was, which was fine with me. I didn’t want to involve her unnecessarily. “Is there anything written on the Duchesse Sylvie’s prophesy?”

His eyes widened. “No, my lady. She would not consent to being questioned about the details. But His Highness was present – he knows precisely the words she spoke.”

I frowned. “What about the Fall, then? Or… the witch?”

“Anushka.” His expression was grim – this was not a topic the trolls liked to discuss.

“Was that her name?” I had never heard her called anything but “the witch”.

“Indeed, my lady. She was foreign-born, obviously, from the northern part of the continent. A favored courtesan and entertainer of the court of King Alexis III.”

We reached a pedestal with a glass case sitting on it. Inside there was a book, which the librarian removed: Chronicles of the Fall. He flipped carefully through the heavily illustrated pages and then paused. “This is her.”

I leaned over to get a better look and gasped. The redheaded woman on the page stared out at me with brilliant blue eyes.

“A few years older, but the resemblance is uncanny,” the librarian agreed.