Another fire salamander. Kneeling by the fire, I could see this one wasn’t fully black like the one I had seen in Molneer’s home. This one was unique, with orange and gold scales.
“What’s your name?” I asked, not expecting an answer.
The salamander came out of the fireplace and ran around the floor, leaving a trail of fire and ash in his wake before going back to his warm bed in the coals.
I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen the ash letters. To the untrained eye, it would have looked like scribbles. I’m not even sure any of my sisters would have been able to decipher the name.
“Sol.”
The salamander stomped all four of his scaled feet in excitement, scattering the coals. But seeing Sol helped me remember a spell that used a fireplace, and I grinned. I could escape . . . for a short while.
The sun had set while I worked out the spell from memory, and I had to guess at the time of night. When it appeared the palace had settled down, I knew it was time.
“Sol, keep my fire burning brightly, okay?”
The salamander spun around in answer.
Moving back to the fireplace, I pulled out a charred piece of wood and used the burnt end like chalk. With practiced ease, I drew out a spell circle in front of the fireplace, painstakingly drawing out each sigil. A smile of accomplishment fell across my face. I hadn’t made a single mistake. After all, I had taught Eden how to do this. It was a travelling spell which would allow me to leave this room for as long as the fire burned bright. When it died out, I would be pulled back to this same location.
Taking a deep breath, I crossed the ash line. The ground began to glow; the fire turned white. Sparks flew out of the fireplace and fell around me like rain. Blinding pain rushed through every limb of my body as I was surrounded by a fiery vortex and pulled into the spell.
I stepped out of a burning fireplace into the royal library. This time it was bathed in darkness, only illuminated by the glowing moss lanterns. I actually preferred it this way. I wanted to find information on the cursed treasure and the thing beneath the mountain.
I just had to find the information I needed before the spell snapped me back to my prison.
Making my way to the center table, I noticed a new stack of books, which included the familiar volume that the bladesman had sliced my hand for touching.
Well, the bladesman wasn’t here. Greedily, I ran my fingers over the leather, feeling the delicate painted gold inlay. I couldn’t help myself, and I took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the paper and glue. The scent of wisdom, the scent of home. Cracking open the book, I scanned the page and saw the runes written within.
Ter Dell, the great dwarven city, was founded by the first king of Ragnar, King Einsamall, in the year of twelve hundred and three.
Where had I heard the name Ter Dell before?
Ragnar-as in Ragnar Mountains.
Was this book referring to the lost dwarven city?
A clearing of a throat alerted me I wasn’t alone. “Do you mind?”
I looked up, and sitting behind a tower of books was a young man with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. His features looked vaguely familiar, but I wasn’t sure where I knew him from.
“Sorry.” I placed the book back on the stack. “I didn’t mean to disturb you. I wanted to read this book.”
The young man leaned forward and pointed to the book in my hand. “That book. You can read that book?”
I frowned at his surprise. “Yes.”
“These runes here?”
“I just said that, yes.”
The man leaned back, running his hands through his blond hair in surprise. He was wearing a loose-fitting white shirt, green doublet, and black pants. On the collar of his vest was a gold pin.
He jumped up, knocking over another pile of books, and I stepped back in surprise. He grabbed the book out of my hands, flipped to a certain page and pointed to a footnote. “What does that say?”
“Move your finger and I’ll tell you.”
The young man moved his finger, and I leaned close to read the fine ink. It was penned by hand, added years later and not by the original author. “It says greed will be his downfall.”
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Positive.”
“Absolutely fascinating.” He cracked a grin, and my heart fluttered in remorse. It again reminded me of Kash’s.
My mood mellowed, and I became somber and retreated. The man sensed my change.
“Wait a minute, don’t go.” He reached for another book among his stacks. “I’ve got more questions.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have disturbed you,” I hedged uneasily. “I’ll come back at a different time.”
“I didn’t dismiss you,” the young man said, his voice suddenly filled with authority.
“Spencer!” another man bellowed as he stormed into the library. “You lazy bum.”
I used the distraction to step back into the shadows as I recognized the new speaker that stormed into the room. It was the man from last night.
“Let me guess, Damon?” Spencer said irritably. “Your dirty laundry attracted mice.”
“Why, you ungrateful . . .” Damon growled and lunged for Spencer.
The two scuffled playfully before Spencer held up a book to block the good-natured blows. “Damon, you won’t believe what I found. A girl that can read—”
“Oh, that’s great,” Damon said sarcastically. “Someone who can read.”
“—the language of Eld,” Spencer finished.
Damon stilled. “Who?”
“She was just here.” Spencer looked toward where I was previously standing, having slipped into the shadows to watch the two men interact.
“What are you waiting for? Find her!” Damon said.
Both of them split up and took to either side of the library and were working their way toward me. There wasn’t a way for me to escape, and I couldn’t help but notice the silent way they moved, as if hunting their prey.
Damon was the closest to me, and I knew they would find me, when suddenly, little bits of ash flickered off my dress. I knew the fire was dying out, causing the spell to return me sooner than I expected. As much as I hated to leave, and I’d enjoyed this bit of game, I’d also found some interesting information.
“Hey!” Damon spotted me just as a swirl of ash flickered around me.
I gave him a wave goodbye and disappeared.
When I appeared in my room, it was freezing. The salamander had long ago abandoned my fireplace, probably summoned to another fire, or had tired of keeping my coals burning. For salamanders were fickle creatures, unless tamed. If one had the pleasure of taming a salamander, they would forever be their familiar.
But the room was not as I left it. The balcony doors that I had left open were shut. Did the wind blow them shut? No, for it was not only shut, but the claw hook latch was in place.
Spinning, I searched the corners of the darkened room for intruders, but found none. I was alone. But someone had come into my room and now knew I could freely leave despite the locked door. The question became, who was it and would they give up my secret?
Sleep evaded me. I spent the rest of the night into early morning, sitting cross-legged on the bed facing the door, waiting for the intruder to come back.
Paranoia had me fumbling, and I made an obstacle course of furniture between the door and me. Having dragged the side table, two chairs, and a trunk in front of the door. This way, if I fell asleep, I would be notified of their entrance.