What Lies Beyond the Veil (Of Flesh & Bone, #1)(85)
Caelum would ruin me. He’d tear me apart. I just had to believe he would still be standing there, ready and willing to help put me back together when it all came crashing down, but Melian’s words about him abandoning me in favor of his Fae mate would haunt me. I’d spend every night wondering if it would be our last. If he would be torn away from me in the morning, and, even worse, not even care about what we’d had or what we’d lost.
“Tell me about your life. Jensen said you were a harvester. As much as I would love to put you to work in the gardens, they’re done for the winter and putting you above ground comes with risk. We try to make sure the people who work on the surface in one place consistently aren’t Marked, otherwise…”
“They could lead the Fae here,” I said, nodding as I considered her words.
“Precisely. Many of our warriors are Marked, but they only go above ground when they’re planning to keep moving. It’s still a risk, but historically the Fae Marked make the best fighters. The Viniculum protects them against the Mist Guard, and they also have the advantage of quicker-than-human healing and a sort of boost in muscle mass and strength.”
We walked beyond the cavern that housed the baths. My body ached to soak in the warm spring, but I knew without a doubt that Caelum would never approve of me going there alone. I couldn’t blame him, because the thought of the other women watching him without me there made me murderous.
“I lived in Mistfell,” I said, to redirect my wayward thoughts. “My family wasn’t well off, but Lord Byron had me tutored privately in the Mistfell Manor. I can do basic arithmetic and read.”
“You can read?” she asked, a small smile taking over her face. “That is quite rare, indeed. A woman being taught.” She veered to the side, leading me through one of the side tunnels until we came to a wooden slab that served as a door.
Heaving it to the side, she opened up a private cavern filled with handmade shelves. On every one of them, books upon books were stacked. Scrolls covered the table, unorganized and haphazard, as if the space had fallen into disuse.
“What is this place?” I asked, stepping inside and running my fingers over one of the dust-covered scrolls laid out on the table. It was a map of Nothrek, and my fingers traced over the cities as I stared down at it. The cities like Calfalls, Tuevine, and Pralis, that had been destroyed in the war, were crossed out with red. “Is this from the war? How is that possible?”
“Our ancestors built this refuge during the war. The Marked couldn’t trust the King to keep them safe, so we did it ourselves. For the most part, they tried to stay out of the fighting and just keep to themselves as we do now. But they liked to document everything, and they kept it all here. These books are entire histories from before the war, and what we’ve been able to collect since,” she answered, watching as I stepped away from the table and moved to the rows of books on the shelves lining the walls.
I slowly pulled one out, the weathered binding cracking beneath my touch as I set it gently on the table. The lettering on the front of the book was like something from a nightmare.
Creatures of Alfheimr.
“This is a forbidden book,” I said, flipping the cover open gently. The drawings within were horrific, my fingers running over the image of a monstrous creature that was half man and half scorpion. His pinchers and tail were dripping blood while his mouth curved around the throat of a victim.
“A great many things you’ll find in these tunnels are forbidden. Unfortunately, most of this knowledge is wasted on us. Not many can read at all, let alone in a way that would allow them to understand these books. Do you speak the Old Tongue?” she asked, tipping her head to the side as I stared down at the name for the creature at the top of the page.
“Some,” I admitted. “I’m not sure how much of this I would be able to understand. If all these books are in the Old Tongue…”
“Only the oldest ones, but it would be very helpful if you could translate them to the best of your ability. I’m sad to say that I’ve been trying to do it slowly, as one of the last people who speaks it, but there’s only so much I can accomplish with everything else requiring my attention. My sister was our family historian, and she was the one who was working to translate the old texts.” She moved to one of the shelves at the side, which seemed removed from the rest. “These are the books she managed to get through before she was taken from us.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“We were on a supply run to gather new books when we encountered a man who needed help. He was half-starved, so we offered him food and a place by our fire for the night. We didn’t realize that he had the flesh-eating fever until we’d already returned to the tunnels the next morning. We lost half our numbers over the course of the next week, my sister and the other historians among them.”
“I’m so sorry,” I murmured. I’d seen the damage the fever had caused when it tore through my village when I’d been a girl. It was the one time that living on the outskirts of the town had worked to our advantage, sparing us from the nightmarish sickness that killed almost everyone it touched.
“This is far more valuable to us than another fighter or a harvester. Perhaps at some point I can choose someone for you to teach and we can rebuild our historian numbers. Knowledge is power, Estrella. What you can give us is a far better weapon than your hand on a sword,” she said, stepping back toward the doorway. “Think about it. Spend some time with the books. I’ll check on you in a little while.”