Malice (Malice Duology #1)(56)

Dragon’s teeth. But there’s no going back now—not when she’s scented the secret. “You have to promise not to tell. Swear it. This could put both of us in real trouble. Worse than getting locked in your rooms for a week.”

She huffs. “Don’t you trust me?”

No. Yes. My fickle heart can’t make up its mind. Once again, I’m dizzy with the feeling Aurora gives me. Like plunging toward the sea and hoping you’ll grow wings before you hit the surface. Against every scrap of reason, I retrieve Kal’s book and hand it to her.

“What’s this?” She begins flipping through the pages.

“It’s a book.” I clear my throat. The fire crackles. “Written by a Vila.”

    Aurora gapes at me, then back at the book with heightened interest. “A Vila wrote this? Is there anything about my curse?”

“No. It was written before the war, by the scribe at one of the courts of Malterre. But it’s the only link I have to my past.”

“It must be very important to you, then.” She pauses. “Thank you for sharing it with me.”

I shy away from her, both elated and terrified at once. “It’s just a book. And it probably won’t even help. But…” I guide her to the sections where Grimelde discusses the arrival of the Nightseekers. “Humans used to go to Malterre and learn dark magic. Maybe you’ve seen something related in the old library?”

Aurora traces one fingertip over the Nightseeker emblem. It’s the same as the one for the Vila, except there’s a raven perched on top of the broken orb. “This symbol looks familiar.” Her brow scrunches as she thinks. “Yes. I’ve seen it stamped on a chest in one of the alcoves. But I’ve never bothered trying to open the lock. I thought there were probably just candles or something inside.”

“It might be locked for good reason,” I warn her. “The Nightseekers were tolerated before the war, but they must have been wiped out with the Vila.”

She grins. “I suppose we’re about to find out.”





CHAPTER TWENTY


The Briar King had not been exaggerating when he promised my first commission would arrive quickly. I find it as soon as I open my Lair the next morning. A nondescript box waits on my worktable, along with a black envelope. My heart pounds at the sight of the dragon seal on the parchment, at the thought of one of the king’s minions skulking about this place. How did they get inside? Besides myself, only Delphine and Mistress Lavender hold keys to this room. But I suppose there’s little that can stop the Briar King from having his way.

I hold my breath, bracing for the Briar King’s first request as I break the seal and unfold the parchment. The missive is short:


The drinker forgets all matters as instructed by the king. Deliver in a fortnight.



    A drinker? Two weeks? I unlock the box. My breath catches. There’s a chalice inside, silver with scrollwork around the rim. It’s not as fine as the crystal flutes served at the royal dinner. This one is simple, meant to blend in with the other dishes. One even a servant might use.

Tarkin wants me to curse this? My mind sifts through a hundred possibilities as to how to accomplish it, each of them more unlikely than the last. Kal said there’s magic in everything—even a chalice? And how do I make it erase someone else’s memory?

But these are questions for later. A fat velvet sack rests at the bottom of the chest. I untie the strings. Three times my normal rate of gold glistens in the light of my hearth. Gold that will carry me across the Carthegean Sea. Away from this life forever.



* * *



—

It’s just under a week before I see Aurora again. She secures my last appointment of the evening, under the name “Mistress Nightingale,” and arrives right on time.

“I was right!” She hefts a burlap bag onto my worktable and begins digging through it. “The chest in the library did contain books about the Nightseekers. I suppose we’re lucky the masters left that place alone. These would have been burned if they found them.”

She thrusts one under my nose. It has the raven emblem stamped on the cover.

The apple pastry I’d been eating suddenly tastes of ash. “I take it you’ve read them?”

    “As much as I could. They’re filled with little spells and rituals. Some of them look like nonsense. But here, this one is for summoning.” She shows me a diagram of a large wheel labeled Summonus. Beside it, a list of ingredients and instruments and instructions that might as well be written in a foreign language. “Do you think you could manage this? It might summon the Vila who cast the curse. She must be able to break it.”

“From what I know about my magic, that’s a dangerous game,” I hedge, wiping my butter-stained fingers on my skirt. “Vila power can only be used for ill intent. Curse breaking is too pure.”

“What harm could it do to try? These books were written by Nightseekers. They learned from the Vila.” She taps the wheel on the page, impatient. “Surely using your own breed of magic isn’t too much of a risk.”

Dragon’s teeth, she’s stubborn. But I can see I’ll get nowhere trying to dissuade her. I change tactics. “Your curse was cast centuries ago. We can’t summon a dead Vila.”