Chương 48: 048

The fox stayed snug against my shoulder as I began clearing the desk, flicking quills into the bag one by one. They'd make perfect test subjects, small, delicate, and easy to inspect afterward. I picked up the coded journal last, weighing it in my palm.

"I'll keep this out for now," I muttered.

"Just in case it can be damaged." That is wise. Better caution than regret, Time agreed. But our window is closing. Take the books you wish to keep so we may depart. No argument there. I turned to the shelves and started grabbing everything within reach—volumes with gilded spines and illustrated covers of knights and flowering vines, plain leather-bound journals much like the one from the desk, and untitled tomes that practically radiated secrets. I didn't slow to inspect them.

We couldn't linger here long, and if I wanted to keep them, I needed to act now. Shelf after shelf vanished under my hands. The sheer number of books was staggering, yet the bag never grew heavier, its contents existing in their own snug little pocket dimension. Time, however, did not afford us the same generosity. Outside the tall window, the sky deepened to bruised purple, dusk bleeding into night. Soon enough, someone would notice Silas's absence. His body, even more so.

As much as it pained me, the mission came first. I cast one last longing glance toward the upper shelves, rows of untouched knowledge just out of reach.

"So many books," I sighed.

"Left behind." Hopefully this wasn't the kind of kingdom that burned inconvenient texts. If I learned later that these were reduced to ash, I might actually cry. Time's reply held no mockery. I understand the feeling, but there will be other books.

"Yeah," I said, eyeing the shelves again, "but there's something deeply satisfying about looting Silas's personal library." I huffed a quiet laugh.

"If only I had a ladder." Or a levitation spell. Which Silas almost certainly had. I, unfortunately, did not. My new foxy companion tilted its head, ears flicking as it looked from me to the unreachable shelves. When it didn't look away, I rubbed the back of my neck, amused despite myself. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

"Sorry, little guy. I'm sure you don't get what the big deal is. These are Silas's personal books. His treasures. Some of these might be one-of-a-kind. I just…wish I could reach them." Something sharpened in the fox's gaze. Before I could react, it leapt from my shoulder.

"Wait-!" I lunged forward, hands outstretched, already imagining broken bones on stone. But the fox didn't fall. It hovered. I froze as it drifted several feet above the floor, the glowing rings along its body flaring soft blue, perfectly matched to its eyes.

"That," I breathed, awe strangling the words, "is fucking cool." The fox puffed up proudly, clearly pleased. Turning toward the shelves, it focused. The glow intensified, then stalled. For an extended beat, nothing happened. Then, one by one, the books began to glow. My jaw slackened as every volume from the upper shelves lifted in perfect unison, drifting downward like obedient stars. They settled gently onto the floor, covers unscathed.

The light faded, and the fox floated back to me, landing on my shoulder with a lazy yawn. I absently stroked its silk-soft ears, wonder humming through my chest.

"I don't know what that was," I murmured, "but you're going to be one terrifyingly badass little guy someday." It puffed up again—less enthusiastically this time—then crawled into my hood and promptly fell asleep. I chuckled under my breath, letting it rest. It had more than earned the nap. With renewed focus, I turned back to the scattered books and got to work, packing them away with reverence and speed. When the last was stowed, I eyed Silas's journal again. Reaching into the bag, I pictured one of the quills.

A faint tingle danced across my fingers. The quill appeared in my palm. I inspected it carefully, relief blooming when I found it unharmed.

"Good," I murmured.

"That settles that." The journal went in next, followed by the inkwells, just as the final rays of sunlight vanished beyond the window.

"All right," I said quietly.

"Time to regroup with Dominicus and Dura." He'd probably want to head straight for the city mentioned in the letter. Convincing him to detour through Silas's armory first, though? That wouldn't be hard at all. I turned toward the door. Only to freeze when the handle rattled. My heart slammed into my throat. Shit. How was this going to look? Silas's entire library stripped bare? Even without a body, the castle would erupt into chaos. I tensed, coiling to strike the moment the door opened.

It creaked inward, I surged forward.

"Nikolas, stop!" Dominicus's voice cut through me like a blade. I froze, fist hovering inches from a very familiar face. Maya's father stared back at me, eyes wide with gobsmacked disbelief. Heat flooded my cheeks as I lowered my hand.

"Well," I muttered, awkwardly clearing my throat.

"As far as first impressions go, that was…not great. But it could've been worse."