Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Someone has made copious notes all over the pages, some of it in feverish foreign script, some of it in English. “Broken?” is scrawled next to an underlined passage. I scour the page for any more words in English, but the rest is unreadable.
A few more pages beyond that is another illustration. This one is of two black trees, some of their branches touching. A cross-section image, their roots go deep into the earth, blood seeping around them. The blood continues through the trunks and the limbs, as if through veins. The link is unbroken from one tree to the other, their bloodline shared where the branches touch.
More pages, more scribbling. The last illustration is of the trees again, though one is skeletal. Its leaves are gone, the blood around its roots a charred brown as is the blood in its ‘veins’. Where its branches join with the other tree, the same charred brown is spreading, polluting the veins of the healthy tree. What does it mean? If one tree dies, the other dies as well, but what do the trees represent? Family lineages or individuals or what? Or are there two magical trees somewhere in what, Transylvania? I snort a choked laugh at that idea. There are no answers, at least none I can read.
I close the book and sit with it for a while, my mind trying to parse the data. The book must be about the vampires, perhaps their history. Or maybe a book of legends or fables about them. There’s no way to know. But whoever had this book out—presumably Valen—was looking for information on blood bonds. Of course that leads me to the question of ‘what the fuck is a blood bond’? The only thing remotely like that is what Melody told me about Valen’s link to Gregor, but why would that be important to Valen right now?
Putting the book back where it was, I search the other tomes on the table. They’re similarly in a language I don’t know. The ones that are open have more notes in them, but nothing I can use to decipher the purpose of Valen’s research.
I move farther into the library, the dust in the air making me sneeze several times loudly. I cower between the stacks and peer out, hoping no one heard the noise. After long, tense moments of silence, I ease back toward the doors. If there are any more clues in here, I haven’t been able to find them.
Pushing through the doors, I feel a hint of relief. As if I ran the gauntlet and came out unscathed simply because I traversed the library. Small victories.
Instead of returning to the stairs, I opt to travel deeper into the rooms. I’ve never been this far, had barely made it to the library when I was caught last time.
The furnishings become shabbier as I go, not the glitzy glam of the rooms closer to the grand staircase. All the paintings here are destroyed much like the ones in the library, as if whoever did it couldn’t stand to look at the faces in the frames. When I exit a particularly bare parlor, I find myself in a short hallway that ends in a set of double doors, one of which is ajar.
I creep along, stopping every so often to listen. It’s quiet, not a sound ahead or behind me. Holding my breath, I push open the door and wince when it makes a high-pitched creak. Frozen, I wait for Valen to grab me and threaten me, but he doesn’t arrive. The black walls are silent as usual, and no one seems to notice that I’m snooping.
Finally exhaling, I keep going, entering what’s clearly a bedroom. Ahead, a large bed is covered with a dark blue blanket. No gold tassels or random bits of crystal hanging from it, the bed is quite plain compared to the rooms on my bedroom level. There’s a small sitting area in front of a fireplace, a couch and a coffee table that bears more than its fair share of scratches. A few books are piled here and there. I walk in a few more steps and stop when a particular scent hits me.
This is Valen’s room. I know it as soon as I catch the sandalwood and soap, along with something slightly minty and a deep edge of smokiness.
His room. I thought it would be bigger, grander. I thought … I guess I don’t know what I thought. I’ve been too busy trying to survive to wonder too much about Valen’s quarters, but now that I’m here, curiosity drives me onward.
There’s a dresser against the wall. I go to it and open the top drawer. Clothes. The next one is the same. No hidden compartments, no secrets. I whirl and go to the bed. Nothing special, and when I look beneath it, all I see are shadows. Standing, I go to what must be his closet. Inside, his scent is even stronger, the long room lined with mostly black clothes. Soft sweaters and smooth shirts. A section of crimson formal attire toward the back, and in the middle a bureau full of belts and a few ties. No jewelry. No watches. Nothing showy.