“Well, hello secret door to a potential exit,” I said to myself.
Lifting my dress, I stepped over the closest pile and began carefully weaving my way through the books. If I could just made it to the back and push some of those books out of the way, I could see if it really was a door.
Clattering rose behind me. I squeezed my eyes shut before edging around to see what had caused it. A soft groan escaped my throat. The hem of my dress had gotten caught in a pile and made the topmost books fall down on the floor. Not for the first time, I cursed this ridiculous garment and wished for my own clothes back. I wondered if this was what it was like for normal people. Not knowing how to sneak and hide and spy without getting caught. Yeah, I was so not made to be a civilian.
Hoping that no one had heard my mishap, I continued towards what I hoped was a door. The tower hiding it stared down at me in challenge. I didn’t have time to move it one book at a time so I would have to push the whole stack to the side and hope that it didn’t create a chain reaction that brought everything down around my head. Taking a deep breath, I placed my hands on the nearest pile and pushed.
The tower swayed above me. Stopping briefly, I sent a quick prayer to Nemanan. This had better work. I continued edging the pile to the side.
“Excuse me,” a voice said from behind. “What are you doing?”
Shit. Transforming my face into a look of innocence, I turned around to face the source of the voice. A male elf in a silver-colored shirt stared at me with eyebrows raised.
“I found an interesting book,” I lied. “I just wanted to get it.”
He looked at me with a dubious expression on his face. “Who are you here with?”
“Niadhir.”
“Ah okay, I see.” He nodded at the book stacks around me. “Be careful not to topple those.”
“Yes, of course.” I gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m almost done.”
My heart pattered nervously in my chest but the suspicious elf seemed to accept my explanation because he wandered off after one final nod. I heaved a deep sigh. It was time to get this done before someone else showed up and started asking questions.
Putting my palms back on the frayed spines, I pushed the pile of books to the side. All the other stacks next to it moved as well until I could finally make out the object behind them. It was a door. Only, it didn’t actually lead anywhere. A loose door stood leaning against the wall instead of attached to it. Irritation burned through me. Why put a spare door here? Cadentia, Goddess of Luck, sure had a strange sense of humor.
After one last murderous glare at the slab of wood, I hiked my dress up and started climbing back out. Damn them for getting my hopes up. When I finally made it out of the maze of book piles, I took a moment to smoothen my clothes. Tipping off Niadhir to my odd activities wouldn’t be ideal. At last satisfied that no trace of my climbing remained, I turned around.
I drew in a sharp breath between my teeth. A female elf with dark violet eyes and silver hair stood right in front of me. Her dress, with sharp lines and no decorations, was hanging still around her as if she had been standing there for a while and not just walked up to me.
“Who are you?” I blurted out.
“Maesia,” she said in low voice. “You are the Oncoming Storm.”
“Yeah,” I replied hesitantly.
“Be careful what you plan to do.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “Are you threatening me?”
Soft footsteps and a rustle of clothing sounded behind me. I whipped around just as Niadhir rounded the bookshelf.
“Were you talking to someone?” he asked, his brows slightly furrowed.
“I...” I began and looked back at Maesia. Only, she wasn’t there anymore. Shaking my head, I decided it was best to not admit that I was apparently talking to people no one else could see. “No, I was just commenting to myself about how many books there are here.”
Niadhir seemed unconvinced but didn’t push the matter. “Yes, my colleague said he found you here, looking for a book. Which book was it?”
Scrambling to think of something that made sense, I said the first thing that popped up into my head. “I thought I saw a book about the Storm Casters.”
“I see.” He motioned for me to follow. “Come with me.”
Thankful that he appeared to have bought it, I trailed behind him back to his table. Wood creaked as I dropped into my chair and squinted at the items now placed on the table in front of my seat. It was some kind of round frame with a white piece of cloth stretched over it and a small silver box.
“I realized that you did not have anything with which to occupy yourself while I continued my studies,” Niadhir supplied. “So I had these brought for you.”
Opening the lid, I peered inside. “What am I supposed to with these?” I picked up a small silver needle and frowned at it. “You can’t stab anyone with this.”
“By the Stars, why would you want to stab anyone?” Niadhir exclaimed, shock evident on his delicate features.
Oh. Whoops. My lips parted but only uncertain noise made it out. How was I supposed to explain myself out of that comment? Fortunately, I didn’t have to because Niadhir did it for me.
“It is fine, I understand.” He gave me a patient smile. “I understand why you would say something like that. Given your nature.”
I frowned at him. “My nature?”
“Yes, with you being a Storm Caster.” When my frown only deepened, he went on. “From what I understand, you do not know anything about what that entails.”
My mind turned suspicious. How had he known that? Had he just deduced that from my lie about looking for a book on the Storm Casters and the confused look on my face when he talked about my nature? Or had I told him that yesterday during the conversation I couldn’t remember?
“No,” I replied honestly because I also desperately wanted to learn more about it.
“Would you like me to tell you?”
I managed a smile. “Yes, I would.”
“Great!” His pale violet eyes sparkled with scholarly excitement. “I will tell you a bit more about it then.” He motioned at the cloth in front of me. “Feel free to start your embroidery while I talk. The spools of thread are underneath.”
Start my embroidery. Did I seriously look like someone who spent their free time doing embroidery? Struggling mightily not to roll my eyes, I instead forced a smile and picked up the box of needles. After a satisfied nod, Niadhir began his lecture.
“Storm Casters, or Ashaana, as your people as also called, are not born. They are made.”
Tipping out the box of needles on the table to get a better look, I glanced up at him. “How?”
“It is a quite distressing process.” His concerned eyes found mine. “Are you sure you want to know?”
“Yes.”
The scholar knitted his fingers and placed them on the table. Leaning forward, I waited for him to start. My heart thumped in my chest. I was finally about to find out who and what I was.
12.
Niadhir cleared his throat. “Well, then. Storm Casters are created by making a deal with a demon from hell. The person in question summons a demon and then proceeds to sell his or her soul to the demon in exchange for power.”
My mouth dropping open slightly, I stared at him. He gave me a grave nod. Dread and hopelessness washed over me as if I was drowning in a frozen black lake. I had made a deal with a demon. By all the gods. I had sold my soul. No wonder I only left death and destruction in my wake.
“It often happens when the person is experiencing extreme emotions in their childhood,” Niadhir went on. “Such as fury, pain, or grief.”
Memories of Rain bleeding to death in a dark alley flashed through my mind. The coppery tang of blood. My heart being ripped to shreds when the light faded from her brown eyes. Deafening screams about vengeance echoing into the night.
Fresh pain from Rain’s death wormed together with the feelings of rootlessness and the loss of id
entity. I slammed up the walls around my already battered heart before it shattered completely.
“Yeah, I remember a time like that,” was all I said.
The serious scholar gave me a knowing nod. “After the person has sold their soul, they receive powers similar to that of a thunderstorm. Black clouds, lightning, thunder.” He pushed strands of silvery white hair back behind his pointed ears and fixed me with a piercing gaze. “I am sure you are familiar with the concept.”
Breaking his stare, I lowered my eyes to the pile of needles on the table before me. “Yeah.”
“The problem, though,” he continued, “is that no one who receives these powers is actually able to control them. Since they have a demonic source, the powers always end up controlling the person instead of the other way around. I am sure you have experienced that as well.”
Picking up a handful of needles, I started sorting through them while trying not to think about all the times the darkness had claimed me without my permission. Especially the last time. Shade’s frightened eyes. Elaran’s pleading voice. The blood running down the assassin’s throat as I pressed the edge of my blade into it with the intention of killing him.
“I have,” I finally replied.
Niadhir leaned back in his white chair and placed his hands in his lap. “That is why there are almost no Storm Casters left. Most of them either die in a storm of their own making or commit suicide because they accidentally killed a loved one.”
An iron fist squeezed my heart so hard and I had to close my eyes to stave off the pain. If I had killed Shade that day, I would probably have done the same. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if I had woken up from that black haze to find him on the ground with his throat slit and the bloody knife in my hand.
Opening my eyes again, I forced out a long breath. “So that’s it then? That’s what my life will come down to? Dying by my own hand? The only question being whether I do it before or after I kill someone I love.”
“Not necessarily.” His concerned eyes found mine. “There is a third option. But it is not something to be considered lightly.” The worried scholar spread his hands in a helpless gesture. “Are you sure you want me to continue? I see that you are already distressed. Perhaps we should take a break?”
“No. I want to know.”
A pair of star elves passed by our table, discussing something about astronomy, while Niadhir considered in silence whether he should continue or not. I picked up a few needles and turned them over in my hands. At last, the concerned scholar leaned forward on the table again.
“Very well.” The chair creaked as he shifted his weight. “The third option is to get rid of the Storm Caster powers.”
I looked up and stared at him with raised eyebrows. “Get rid of them?”
“Yes. There is a ritual that we can perform here in the City of Glass that will purge the demonic powers from you.” He motioned at the book-filled room around us. “Here in this library, in fact. But as I mentioned, it is not a decision to be made lightly. The ritual is complicated and once done, it can never be undone.”
Using the side of my hand, I swept the needles into a neat pile before picking up the box again. I chewed the inside of my cheek while I returned them to the silver box and snapped the lid shut.
“That’s why you brought me here,” I stated at last. “Some of the wayward souls you bring here are Storm Casters.”
“Yes.” Niadhir gave me a sincere nod. “We do not want you to commit suicide or kill someone you love any more than you do. Despite what the rest of Weraldi thinks of us, all we want is a world free of pain and sorrow.”
I studied his face, trying to find hidden deception in the pale violet irises. He wasn’t lying. The sincerity in his eyes when he had explained what the star elves really wanted told me that he was speaking the truth. They did want a world free of pain and sorrow. I furrowed my brows. That was not at all what I had expected.
Niadhir reached over and placed a hand on my arm. “Do not be afraid. We would never force the ritual on anyone. And besides, it cannot even be completed if the person does not give up their powers willingly.” He let go and leaned back again. “We simply wanted you to know that there is an alternative. If you want it.”
“I, uhm...” I began. “I need time to think.”
“Of course.” He rose from the chair and held out his arm. “I will take you back to your room.”
Pushing off from the table, I stood up as well. I still didn’t like being escorted in this way but I took his offered arm anyway. My mind was spinning so much the whole way back to my room that I almost forgot to execute my plan. We were right outside Shade’s door when I finally remembered. Placing my right foot behind my left, I tripped on purpose and tumbled to the floor.
“Oh, by the Stars!” Niadhir exclaimed. “Are you alright?”
While moving my arm as if to brace myself on the floor, I threw two needles under Shade’s door. “Yes, I’m fine. Sorry. My mind was somewhere else.” I took his outstretched hand and climbed to my feet.
“Understandable considering everything you have learned today.” He looked me up and down with concerned eyes. “Are you sure you are alright?”
“Yeah, I’m alright,” I replied as we started out again. “I just need some rest.”
“I understand. I will come and collect you for dinner.”
“Alright. See you later then.”
Not waiting for a reply this time either, I slunk into my room and closed the door behind me. The lock clicked shut. Turning around to face the silver mechanism, I let a grin spread across my face as I pulled out two more needles that I had hidden in my sleeves. Ha! Good luck keeping me locked up now.
After one last smug look at the door, I strode to the white desk by the window and sat down. I would only need to bend them in a few strategic places and then I would have a pair of makeshift lockpicks. And so would Shade.
Since I could only pretend to trip once without raising suspicion, I’d had to choose between Elaran and Shade. It had been an easy decision considering that the grumpy elf could neither make lockpicks out of needles nor actually pick locks.
I bent down over the sharp metal pieces and got to work. My mind was still as tangled as a nest of snakes, though. I had finally learned what being a Storm Caster meant but now that I knew, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. Whatever I had expected, this hadn’t been it. I had sold my soul to a demon from hell in order to get revenge. Talk about making irrevocable life decisions at the tender age of eleven.
Pushing those concerns to the back of my mind, I refocused my efforts on the makeshift lockpicks. What mattered now was getting out of here. Getting Shade and Elaran out of here. Because whatever was going on in Starhaven, it was bigger than them simply wanting to save a Storm Caster. Otherwise, why would they keep us locked up? No, I could deal with my demonic powers and everything else that entailed after all this was over. I blew out a humorless laugh. If there was an after for me, that is.
13.
Soft clicks echoed from the lock on my door. I whipped my head from the closet I’d been scouring for something more burglar-friendly to wear, and blew out the candle. Darkness fell around me as I darted across the room. The sound stopped just as I skidded to a halt behind the wall next to the door. I watched the silver handle intently. It edged downwards. Someone was breaking into my room.
The handle reached the bottom with a quiet snap. My heart pattered against my ribs. Light spilled onto the floor as the door was pulled open a tiny crack. A shadow appeared in the illuminated area. I crouched down and got ready.
In the span of a second, the tall figure had slunk through and drawn the door shut. I lunged. A surprised hiss sounded as I grabbed a hold of the intruder’s clothes and yanked them towards me. Their body plowed into mine with a force I hadn’t expected while they hooked a leg behind my kneecap and pulled forward. We both tumbled to the floor in a heap of tangled limbs.
Struggling to get the upper
hand, I pushed off from the floor and tried to roll on top of my attacker. I only managed to get to my knees before I was yanked to the side and slammed to the floor again. A huff escaped my throat as my breath was knocked out of me. While I’d been busy trying to breathe, my opponent had used the second of grace to wedge me against the floor.
“Did you really think you would win that?” Shade’s voice said.
Squinting against the darkness around us, I found the Master Assassin’s athletic body straddling my chest while his strong hands pinned my arms to the floor above my head. He leaned down over me until I could see the smirk on his face.
Of course it was him. Who else would it be? Damn assassin.
“Yeah, I would’ve won that. You just got lucky I stumbled there in the beginning.”
Shade’s hot breath drifted over my face as he let out a chuckle. “Uh-huh. Whatever you need to tell yourself.”
I pulled against the fingers locking my wrists to the cool floor. “You gonna let me up?”
His black eyes glittered. “When you admit you can never beat me.”
Rolling my eyes, I shook my head just as an idea flashed into my brain. I drove my knee into his backside. With him leaning this far over me, he was completely defenseless against the sudden push and rolled right over my head. Shooting to my feet, I gave him a quick rise and fall of my eyebrows.
I grinned at him. “You were saying?”
My eyes had adjusted enough to the dark that I could see the stunned expression that swept over his handsome features as he climbed to his feet. Shaking his head, he released an impressed chuckle. While the Master Assassin came to terms with being outsmarted, I strode to the desk and lit the candle again. Light flickered to life against the smooth white walls.
A Storm of Glass and Stars (The Oncoming Storm Book 4) Page 8