A Glimmer of Hope (The Avalon Chronicles #1)(26)

The room was easily the size of the cavern the ogre lived in, but instead of monsters and death, it contained scrolls. There were thousands upon thousands of them, each tied with string and stacked on the shelves. Two sets of stairs led to a walkway above. It reminded her of a library. She picked up the closest scroll and unfurled it. In the top left-hand corner there was a yellow sticker with the number 936 written on it. But the rest of the scroll was written in a language she’d never seen before that appeared to use runes or glyphs of some kind. She couldn’t begin to think where it had come from.

She put it down and looked at a few others. Each one had a different number and different writing; she couldn’t read any of them. She quickly gave up and walked between two of the huge shelving units. It didn’t take long to reach the end, but she’d counted a dozen separate rows, each with four different shelves. A huge amount of information. Part of her wanted to start going through them, to discover what they were, but she needed to leave, needed to put more distance between herself and those pursuing her.

Layla walked back toward the door, hoping to figure out if whoever she’d heard had gone. But before she was halfway there, the door began to slowly creak open. She darted back behind the nearest set of shelves, peering through the scrolls, hoping the darkness that surrounded her concealed her from whoever was entering.

“Are you in here?” The voice was deep, guttural. “Come out and play.”

The words sent a shiver down Layla’s spine, but she dared not move, dared not draw any attention to herself. She gripped the hilt of the sword tightly, her knuckles turning white from the pressure. She wanted to show them she was not afraid, to show them exactly what happened to those who cornered her, but she knew it would only get her captured, or worse.

Layla watched the creature walk over to the stack of shelves on the far side and sniff the air, before repeating the same behavior on the side of the room closest to her. Even though Layla was four rows back, she still held her breath.

“Did you find anything?” a second creature said as it entered the room, this one shorter than the first, with a bald head.

“Smells of musty paper in here. We should check the shelves on each side, upstairs too.”

“You’re welcome to,” the bald one said, and left the room.

The first creature took another look around and sniffed again. “If you’re here, we’ll come back for you. You can’t hide forever.” It left the room and she heard the familiar and awful sound of a key engaging the lock.

Layla ran to the door and placed her ear against it, but heard nothing. She looked through the keyhole, but there was no sign of whatever those creatures were. She tried the key she’d taken from her jailer, but it didn’t fit. She sank to her knees. She was trapped once more, and this time she doubted she’d be able to find a way out before someone found her. All of her hard work for nothing. Well, if she was going to be caught, she was going to make it hard for them to get to her. She’d take every single scroll she could find and stack them up in front of the door; maybe that would buy her some time.

Layla reached up to the shelf above, intending to use it to pull herself up, but she grabbed a sharp piece of metal, slicing through the palm of her hand. She cried out, then quickly forced herself to be silent. Her hand was bleeding and she grabbed several sheets of paper, pressing them hard onto the wound.

The paper soon turned red, so Layla grabbed several more sheets, all of which had notes about the scrolls on them. She started to read them, but they, too, soon turned red. All out of paper, she picked a scroll from the nearby shelf and used that. When the bleeding finally slowed, she saw that the cut wasn’t long, but it was deep enough that it would need stitches.

Layla kept a tight grip on the scroll, just in case, and got to her feet. She searched through another pile of scrolls until she found a piece of string long enough to enable her to wrap the paper round her hand and tie it tightly in place.

She took a step forward and the world began to spin, causing her to crash to her knees between two shelves.

Do you accept the gifts we can give you?

The voice appeared to come from all around the room. Layla shook her head, forcing herself back to her feet. The door swung open and the creature who’d been in the room earlier, the one who had sent a shiver up Layla’s spine, walked in. It turned its head toward Layla and smiled. Layla was directly in its line of sight.

“I knew you were in here,” it said.

Do you accept the gifts we can give you?

“Who keeps asking that?” Layla shouted. “Why are you doing this?”

“Asking what?” the creature said.

This is a blood elf. It will kill you. Do you accept the gifts we can give you?

“What gifts?” Layla shouted.

“Who are you talking to?” the creature asked, looking around to ensure it wasn’t about to be attacked.

“Blood elf,” Layla stammered.

The shock in the elf’s eyes was easy to see. “How do you know of my kind?” It drew its sword and took a step forward. “You will answer my question.”

Layla noticed that she’d left the sword she’d taken from the blood-elf jailer by the door. She had no way of defending herself against an armed opponent.

Do you accept the gifts we can give you?

Layla stared at the creature walking toward her. She wanted to fight, and she wanted to win. “Will you help me fight?” she asked the voices.