“Who knew how many blue symbols and marks there were?” he commented.
Liesel raised her hand. “Um, I did. Because I basically live in a library.”
“Yes, but how often do you read for pleasure?” he asked. “You’re usually here doing…other things.”
“Oh stop,” she said. “You know perfectly well that I indulge my love of reading on a regular basis, whenever my tongue gets tired.”
Rafe rolled his eyes. “Let’s keep it clean, shall we?”
I checked the index of the first book and opened to page two hundred and eleven. The mark there was blue, but not in the shape of a star. More like an octagon.
“You know my hair is a mark,” Liesel said. She stroked the strand of white hair that framed the left side of her face.
“Kiss of the angel,” Rafe said.
“I prefer to think of myself as blessed.” She fluttered her eyelashes in a dramatic fashion.
“Mine’s not as exciting,” I said. “It’s just a lack of melanin.”
“Selective albinism,” Rafe mused.
“I think it’s gorgeous,” Liesel said.
“Thanks.” I placed the first book aside after finding only a passing reference to a gemstone in the underworld and continued to the next book.
“Here’s a good one,” Rafe said. The excitement faded as he continued to read. “The mark didn’t sparkle, did it?”
“No,” I said. “No sparkling, I’m afraid.”
“It’s odd that only one of the demons had the mark,” Liesel said. “It sounds like they were all in the same pack.”
“Maybe that one was the leader,” I said.
She frowned as she looked at one of the other books. “Seems unlikely. Lesser demons usually don’t have leaders among their own kind. They tend to answer to one at a higher level.”
We read in mutual silence for the next fifteen minutes.
“This is nice,” Liesel said, glancing up. “Very companionable.”
“Remember when we used to meet with the other Watchers?” Rafe asked. “It was kind of like this.”
“Except for that awful Wallis,” Liesel said. “His body made more noises than a parade.”
Rafe’s expression clouded over. “He’s not making noises anymore.”
“No.” Liesel pressed her lips together. “He was a fine Watcher, noises aside.”
“What happened to him?” I asked.
“Killed by a vampire,” Liesel said.
My throat tightened. “That happens? I thought vampires in the mortal realm tended to behave themselves.”
Liesel laughed. “Where’d you hear that? The vampires’ public relations firm?”
Rafe closed another book. “It is true that they try to be on their best behavior here.”
“Otherwise they answer to us,” Liesel said. “Well, not necessarily Watchers but the nephilim.”
“Why did the vampire kill your friend?” I asked.
“Wallis was the one that originally found out about the sales at the gray market,” Rafe said.
“What are the sales?” I asked.
Liesel and Rafe exchanged glances. “Children,” Rafe said.
A lump formed in my throat. “Human?”
“All kinds as far as we can tell,” Rafe said.
Nausea rolled over me. “What are they selling them for?”
“Nothing good,” Liesel said.
“Wallis discovered that a vampire by the name of Meade was involved and confronted him,” Rafe continued.
Liesel shook her head. “It was a bad situation all around. Wallis died first, then Meade died so he took whatever information he had with him.”
My eyes popped. “They both died?”
“Meade ripped Wallis’s throat out,” Liesel said. “But not before Wallis got a good jab in with his stake.”
I gaped at Rafe. I didn’t realize how dangerous his mission was. “I didn’t realize you lost a friend recently too.”
“Wallis wasn’t like Mariska,” he said. “We were colleagues. Nothing more.”
“Still,” I said. “It could’ve been you.”
Liesel’s face hardened. “No, it couldn’t have. Rafe isn’t that stupid. He would’ve gone for help first.”
“Don’t blame the victim, Liesel,” he said. “We all make mistakes. He didn’t deserve to die for his.”
Liesel licked her finger and turned another page. “I suppose you’ve already taken her to see the local coven.”
I perked up. “The coven? For what?”
“To find the book thief,” Liesel said.
“Why would the coven be able to help with that?” I asked.
“If I needed a heavy ward broken, that’s where I’d go,” Liesel said.
Rafe raked a hand through his hair. “That’s actually a good idea.”
“You hadn’t even thought of it?” Liesel tossed back her head and laughed.
“I’ve been focused on other things,” he said.
“Like kissing in nightclubs and sleepover parties?” she teased. She shifted back to me. “The witches in this city are good sources of information. If someone’s trying to remove a ward, the coven is worth a try.”
“Thanks, that’s helpful.” I turned my focus back to the book and skimmed the next page. My heart jolted when I saw the image at the top of the page. The mark looked exactly like the one on my stomach—sapphire blue in the shape of a star.
This mark is known as the Mark of the Nether and is a distinguishing characteristic of members of the greater demon royal family.
I slammed the book closed, my heart racing.
“Cassia?” Rafe gave me a look of concern.
“Sorry, it was just the talk about Wallis. Made me think of Mariska.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to dredge up those difficult feelings.”
I managed a small smile. “That’s okay. I’ll be fine.” I kept one hand on the book, unwilling to let it go. There was an entire page devoted to this mark, but I’d have to read it in private, somewhere that no one could see my face. I wouldn’t be able to hide my shock and disgust.
The royal family of the Nether? They were among the most powerful demons in all the realms. How could one of them have sired a child with a human? As far as I knew, the royal family avoided the mortal realm because they found it beneath them. That was what the Elders had taught me.
“I think I need a break,” I said. “Would it be possible to come back another time?”
“You’re welcome anytime, honey,” Liesel said. “But take the books if you want. Bring them back when you’re done.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I really appreciate it.” I gathered a few so as not to arouse suspicion.
“Always a pleasure, Liesel,” Rafe said.
She offered a knowing smile. “That’s what they say.”
Chapter Twelve
According to Liesel, the local coven operated out of an abandoned penitentiary not far from the art museum. The crumbling building appeared to be in an advanced state of decay, not exactly welcoming, though that was probably the idea.
We passed through what was once a formidable stone gatehouse and crossed the small yard to the only visible door. The outdoor area was mostly dirt and pebbles with the occasional sprouting of weeds. The metal door hung slightly off its hinges. I worried that one tug would be enough to liberate it from its post.
Rafe cast a sidelong glance at me. “You ready?”
“What do we know about the local coven exactly?”
He grinned. “Are you asking whether they’re good witches or bad witches?”
“Are you sure it’s safe to waltz right in and ask questions? Maybe we should’ve made an appointment.” If the witches were as powerful as Rafe claimed, I would imagine they had wards in place to keep out the riffraff.
“Your feet weren’t this cold at the burial ground,” Rafe said.
“They’re not cold now.”
A gust of wind rushe
d past us and kicked up the dirt around our feet. The loose door opened, creating a gap wide enough for us to enter.
“See?” Rafe said. “It’s practically an invitation.”
“Or an ambush,” I grumbled.
He slipped through the crack and I reluctantly followed.
Unsurprisingly, the building gave me the creeps. Rusted metal doors. Broken pipes. The walls were stained—I didn’t care to speculate as to the reason. Scraps of paint dangled from the ceiling.
“Maybe we should have brought a gift,” I said. Mariska had often prattled on about manners in the mortal realm. Strange habits like saying “God bless you” when someone sneezed. I’d spent the next month blessing the Elders after that revelation. Elder Alastor wasn’t amused and commanded me to stop. Mariska felt so guilty for getting me in trouble that she baked two trays of chocolate brownies. I noticed with a trace of bitterness that Elder Alastor had no problem devouring the mortal dessert. Apparently, it was acceptable to eat their food but not engage in their customs.
“Like what? The number of an interior decorator?”
No one came to greet us or remove us from the premises, so we kept going. As we continued down the corridor, I realized that the building was not unlike the design of the spires. Further ahead was a central hub—in this case a rotunda—and the rest of the penitentiary radiated out from its center.
Rafe kept pace with me, as though afraid to wander too far ahead.
“It’s not the swankiest coven,” I said. “I was hoping it would be one of those situations where it looked dilapidated on the outside, but then we would discover it was only a glamour.”
“It would take a lot of magic to keep a place this big glamoured all the time,” Rafe said. “I’m sure the coven would rather make better use of their power.”
I instinctively thought of Domus in the sky above. If only Rafe knew that ten spires looked down upon us at this very moment. I wasn’t sure how the Elders kept the academy cloaked. They never discussed it, at least not in front of me. They’d likely struck a deal with someone very powerful and very discreet.
“Rafe, look,” I said. A set of footprints appeared ahead of us and began to move.
Up ahead, one of the metal doors creaked open, creating an eerie sound in the seemingly empty building. I cut a glance at Rafe. He slowed his pace and motioned for me to do the same. The footprints turned left to cross the threshold into one of the side rooms. Rafe went first and I trailed behind him, keeping only about two inches between us so that the door couldn’t suddenly swing shut and separate us.
The creepy room was devoid of furniture and windows. A single lightbulb hung loosely from the ceiling, casting strange shadows on the walls. There was no sign of a witch or anyone else for that matter. I scanned the floor for the footprints. They’d stopped in the center of the room, directly below the light bulb. The toes now faced our direction.
Rafe made a noise at the back of his throat. “We seek counsel with the witches.”
The air in front of us shimmered with a crimson light and a woman’s head appeared. A hood sagged where her shoulders should be. Once she removed the rest of the cloak, she became fully visible and I swallowed a gasp. She wasn’t what I expected. Mariska had always told me that witches were ugly and green-skinned with warts and a taste for the flesh of chubby children. This woman was tall and slim with golden hair and rosy cheeks. She didn’t look like she ate much at all, let alone small children.
“Who seeks such counsel?” she asked. Even her voice was soft and gentle.
“I am Rafael, a Watcher tasked with protecting this city,” Rafe said. “This is my companion, Cassia.”
The witch frowned. “Nephilim and demonspawn, working together? This is most unusual.”
“We realize that, but it seems we have a common goal and so it made sense to join forces,” Rafe said.
The witch observed us with interest. “I am Elsbeth. Any business you have with this coven must first go through me.”
“You’re like a triage witch,” I said. Mariska once compared her role at the academy to the role of a triage nurse in mortal hospitals and then spent the next half an hour explaining what a triage nurse was. Typical Mariska.
Elsbeth smiled. “I suppose I am.”
“We’re looking for information,” Rafe said. “A book of great importance has been stolen. The ward protecting its pages is so powerful that only witches of your caliber could break it.”
Her face was luminous. “I see. And you would like to know whether such a creature has come seeking our assistance? That would direct you to your thief.”
“It’s more than that,” I blurted. I hadn’t meant to offer more than the minimum information, but it bothered me not to acknowledge the more heinous crime. “Whoever stole that book also murdered someone very close to me.”
Elsbeth clucked her tongue. “A damnable pity.”
“And if that book is opened and falls into the wrong hands,” I said, “more lives will be at stake.”
“I see. Just a moment, please.” Elsbeth closed her eyes and hummed softly. I recognized the tune from Somewhere Over the Rainbow. I tried to catch Rafe’s eye, but he kept his focus on the witch.
Elsbeth’s eyes flew open, startling me. “Esmariah will see you now.” She gestured to the door behind us. “Make a left when you leave and head to the heart of the coven.”
“That’s it?” I asked.
She smiled coolly. “For now.” The smile didn’t reach her eyes. Hmm. Maybe I’d have to reassess my view on her dietary preferences after all.
We returned to the corridor and continued toward the rotunda. The air grew damp the closer we got to the center and the reason soon became apparent. In the center of the rotunda was an enormous ash tree that appeared to have exploded from the earth fully formed. It lorded over the room, its branches twisted and turned in every direction. I was so enthralled by the tree that I failed to notice the woman in the red cloak beneath it. Her black hair was streaked with white and fastened at the nape of her neck in a tidy bun.
“Welcome, Rafael and Cassia. The coven has heard your inquiry and wishes to answer.”
“Then you know the identity of the thief?” I asked. I heard the eagerness in my voice and cringed inside. I knew better than to sound desperate.
The witch plucked an apple from the tree and handed it to me. “I wish to know you first.”
I stared at the apple in wonder. Since when did ash trees bear fruit? It shouldn’t have surprised me that this was no ordinary tree.
She ripped another apple from the tree and gave it to Rafe. “And you as well, Watcher.”
Rafe polished his apple on his shirt. “You want me to eat it?”
“No, she wants you to shove it up your nose,” I said. “Of course she wants you to eat it.”
Her mouth twitched. “I will take your cores when you have finished.”
Thankfully, I was hungry enough to polish mine off quickly. Even with that, Rafe managed to finish before me and handed the core to Esmariah with a satisfied smile.
I handed over my core next. The witch flicked a finger and two spades appeared. They dug two small holes in the dirt mound beneath the tree.
“Um, just to clarify, those holes are for the apple cores, right?” I asked.
Esmariah’s vague smile intensified. “We would not welcome you in only to harm you, child.” She tossed each core into a hole and the spades covered them with the earth.
“Now what?” Rafe asked.
The witch circled the wide base of the tree until she reached a branch on the other side where a black cauldron hung in solitude. She reached up and lifted a ladle, scooping liquid along with it. She carried the ladle back to the overturned ground and sprinkled water over each spot. Once the ladle was empty, it left her hand and returned to the cauldron on its own.
Esmariah wiped her hands on her cloak. “Well, I’m glad that part’s over. I’m not a huge fan of formality, but I understand it comes with
the territory.” She unclasped her cloak and slid the red fabric from her shoulders to reveal a sleek black dress. A string of pearls adorned her slender neck. She noticed our stares and glanced down at her outfit. “I have a charity dinner in about an hour at the art museum, you see. There wasn’t enough time to run home and change between coven duties and the event.” She shrugged her narrow shoulders. “Such is the life of the modern witch.”
“So what happens with the apple core?” I asked. “Some kind of plant grows and provides an answer?”
“Wouldn’t that be lovely?” She punctuated the question with a dainty laugh. “No, nothing of the sort. Do you know what this tree represents?”
I gazed upward. “Death?” It was an answer I recalled from my lessons.
“While there are certainly trees of death, and those linked with sacrifice, that is not this tree.”
Rafe’s gaze lingered on the tree. “The gift of mortality?”
Her laughter tinkled. “How sweet that you would consider it a gift. No, that is not this tree.” She clasped her hands in front of her. “This tree bears knowledge.” She looked at me. “Not, however, direct answers.”
“It doesn’t take a magic tree to tell us who came to you and requested that you break the ward on the book.” I heard the frustration in my voice and immediately regretted it. The coven owed us nothing. If I lost my temper, I lost my lead.
“No one has come to us, halfling,” she said. “Not with a request concerning a book.”
“But you said…”
She silenced me with a look. “I said that the coven wishes to answer, not that we have the answer you seek. We’d like to be clear that we have no information on this subject.”
I was so frustrated, I wanted to rip a branch off the tree and beat with her it. The mere thought made me queasy. What would Elder Sam say if I told him I’d had such a violent thought? Actually, I knew what he would say—“you can’t control your thoughts, Cassia, but you can control your actions.” Or something along those lines. The realization gave me comfort.
“Have you heard anything at all about a stolen book?” Rafe asked.
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