I blinked at him. “You’re shitting me.”
He shook his head. “I shit you not.”
I cursed loudly. “You’re telling me that out of the four amulets we just had in our grasp, only two of them count for this stupid quest?” I demanded, angrier at myself than anything.
“I’m sorry about the third one. She was too far away for me to actually grab her without her taking me out over the ledge and leaving you unprotected,” he rasped guiltily.
I shook my head, gesturing dismissively. “I’m not mad at you, Xylo. Just the situation. I don’t understand. This woman was Mina—she knew things.”
Xylo shifted from foot-to-foot. “Perhaps she took possession of one of the other, younger vampires. That is her amulet,” he added, frowning as if at a puzzle. “And I did see Mina in the Gardens between us. She must have made a switch somewhere between here and there.”
I gritted my teeth. The only time she’d been out of my sight was when she’d let go of my hand and jumped through the foliage—the still burning foliage, by the way, which was pretty much a beacon for what had gone down here.
“Yeah,” I admitted. “That makes sense.” I sighed wearily, glaring down at the poor vampire who Mina had used like a puppet. “For all intents and purposes, we just killed all of Dracula’s brides…” I said bluntly, fully expecting the bastard to appear directly behind me and rip my heart out.
Xylo nodded calmly. “They saw me trying to follow you and Mina Harker through the Gardens,” he said. “I had no choice.”
“Me neither. She went from pleasant to killer at the flip of a switch. And we made a lot of noise,” I said. Actually, Xylo had made all the noise. I had been the perfect lady, killing my target with finesse and silence. Except, I’d picked the wrong target. “Let’s get out of here before reinforcements show up.”
He didn’t even respond. He just grabbed my hand and led me back into a section of the foliage that hadn’t caught fire yet.
I tried to ignore the faint buzzing sensation of the necklaces in my pocket. I did not ignore the strange thoughts and plans that suddenly began to whisper in the depths of my mind. Several things Mina-not-Mina had said were bothering me.
I let my wild thoughts play out in my mind like simulations, seeing if they led to any new insights in this fucked-up game I was apparently playing.
Chapter 21
Security had definitely caught onto our wholesale slaughter in the Eternal Gardens, forcing Xylo to take a different route that would conveniently bring us past the Master’s Library that Mina had mentioned. She had demanded to know if Dracula was making a move for it, whatever that meant.
I was coming to understand that Dracula loved his extravagant names when it came to inanimate objects—as if making up for his lack of interest in the names of living creatures.
Or Dracula was naming it exactly what it was—a Master’s library. Either way, I was somewhat relieved that our escape from the Eternal Gardens gave us the opportunity to check it out. Because it was highly likely that the real Mina Harker might swing by in order to make sure Dracula didn’t do whatever it was that she feared him doing.
Which meant I might get the chance to personally explain that if she really hated Dracula so much, we were actually on the same side.
I was also betting that with Dracula being such a collector of treasures—which Xylo had confirmed to be the case—he might have some books on the Omegabet or something equally dangerous that I could steal from him or destroy. Barring that, I still wanted to see what kind of books he considered to be valuable, or powerful.
Anything that might give me hints on the Master’s master plan.
You know how after you bought a new car you suddenly saw it everywhere? When you could have sworn you had never seen one on the streets before that day? Like you were some local trendsetter in automobile aesthetics, and that everyone had been silently waiting for you to choose your new car so they could go out and copy your design, even down to the color of the valve caps on your tires.
It was absolutely true.
Because everywhere I turned lately, I seemed to find double connotations and entendres that tied back to the word Master. Was that by design or just my overactive imagination?
Xylo had led us around the perimeter of the Eternal Gardens and through the Terrible Timbers—what felt like an enchanted forest—which luckily had no terrible wood or wolves to speak of—because they were likely all scouring the Gardens for us. Our walk through the dark forest finally opened up onto a small clearing with a huge, multi-story building with a single, fifty-plus-foot tower on the end closest to us. The building was still within the Terrible Timbers, but through the trees about a hundred yards further on, I saw several vast marble structures that looked like a ritzy city butting up against the forest.
Likely where all the rich monsters kicked their feet up.
The tower was encircled by one of those gargantuan, serpent-like, spiral staircases like I had seen on the towers from the bridge closer to the Keep. Up close, it was mesmerizingly intricate and detailed—enough that I almost feared it would come to life like a giant gargoyle.
Anything was possible here.
Xylo confirmed that it was not alive, and that it had never moved in his time living here. That was good enough to get me to agree to climb it, but I didn’t fully trust his answer. Just because he had never seen it come to life didn’t mean that it couldn’t, and I’d seen enough crazy shit here to believe any insanity thrown my way.
The stairs were easily wide enough for a vehicle to use, and the attention to detail was unbelievable. It truly looked as if it was about to take a breath and detach from the tower. The sculptor had even carved individual scales into the railing, each as large as my fist.
To be safe, we crouched as we climbed, in case any gargoyles had been dispatched to search for the assassin who had killed the Brides of Dracula.
I found myself wondering exactly how the Beast accomplished such wonders—how its magic actually worked to make this terribly beautiful place. Did Sanguina simply will the place into existence, tap into the magic from our world, or did she somehow teleport it, or the materials to make it, from some other realm?
Because even with magic-wielding engineers, this place should have taken decades, if not hundreds of years, to build.
And Mina—speaking through her possessed vampire—had claimed that the place returned to its full glory at every full moon since they had burned it down.
That was another thing. What exactly had gone down when they killed Dracula so long ago? Had they actually killed him and Sanguina brought him back to life, or had they just thought they’d killed him? Maybe he’d suffered burns and the Beast had healed him.
I didn’t hold out much hope for Dracula explaining it all to me—not after he learned we’d just cock-blocked him by killing all three of his old wives and turned his new wife against him. That was going to be an awkward conversation. But…he’d sent me out here, given me a guide, and told me to find the amulet necklaces. If he knew his wives wore some, had he intended me to kill them?
Had I actually been roped into killing his wives for him? That made me feel decidedly icky. I pointedly ignored the four amulets in my pocket, only two of them worth a damn in helping to get my powers back. Despite that, they all had a gentle hum to them—like if you placed your hand over a running microwave. I could tell the amulets were giving off power, but I hadn’t sensed anything that told me whether it was my stolen power or something related to their own power. Xylo had told me that the amulets were essentially keys to travel the property, granting the wearer access to restricted areas.
Xylo had also urged me to shatter one or two of them in order to at least get some of my powers back, but after talking with Mina’s puppet and seeing Samael in the Coliseum, I had misgivings about sticking to Dracula’s plan. Without Dracula’s Bane, Sanguina would just bring him back to life after I killed him, but I was no closer to finding that relic than I h
ad been when I first entered this cursed place.
Not that I had a better idea on how to defeat Dracula or get my powers back, but at least I could wait it out until absolutely necessary. Following Dracula’s request wouldn’t end well for me, no matter what he had said. Hell, he’d told me that I would serve him no matter what happened, and I was beginning to believe it.
I still had strange thoughts drifting through my mind, strange possibilities that I hadn’t decided whether or not were applicable to my situation. I let them play out in my head, hoping they came up with something helpful. Because now we had the attention of the entire Castle Dracula after killing the Sisters. So far, we had been lucky in avoiding the numerous patrols, because we were going out of our way to stay off any known paths. Xylo’s knowledge of the castle—and all the secret, unknown or unused paths he had travelled over the years to avoid bullies—had proven invaluable.
That strange nagging sensation still continued to pop up here and there, but it was sporadic at best, so I still hadn’t pinpointed what the subconscious thought was or what it was trying to tell me.
I realized I had stopped walking and was just standing on the stairs, lost in my thoughts. I glanced up to find Xylo staring at the bloody Cross Pattée on my chest again, and this time he was speaking wordlessly under his breath as if trying to remember something.
He noticed my attention and jerked his head away with a mumbled apology before continuing up the stairs. I watched him thoughtfully for a few moments, wondering how I could help him get his memory back, or if it was even possible.
One thing I had tried to keep silent about was how Mina had recognized Xylo. At first, I’d thought it had been Dracula using Mina against her will, but when I’d mentioned the amulets, the vampire had lost her mind. Which meant I had been talking to Mina’s proxy—a minion vampire that Mina had possessed. And Mina had not been happy to hear that her dear husband had intended to take her amulet and kill her.
And Mina had been just as furious to see Xylo—clearly recognizing him. I’d casually brought it up to Xylo and he’d just stared back at me blankly, telling me he’d never even spoken to her—just seen her from afar.
And I knew he was telling me the truth. He simply didn’t know how to lie. I’d briefly considered the possibility that maybe Xylo was Jonathan Harker, having his memory wiped by Dracula for pure cruelty. To have Harker—now Xylo—as his and Mina’s personal servant, and Xylo having no idea who he’d been before becoming a skeleton soldier.
Xylo had looked over at me, reading my thoughts. Finally, he shrugged. “I don’t think that’s true, but how would I know?” he asked in a saddened tone.
And he was right, but he might also be wrong. Even those afflicted with mental maladies caused by magic often displayed reactions of some kind—on the subconscious level—when confronted with a subject that came too close to their wiped memory. They may grow silent if they were usually talkative, or sad if they were usually happy. Any kind of change to their typical attitude was a potential red flag.
Except Xylo didn’t change at all when he read my thoughts. He just shrugged, looking helpless. “I wish you could read my mind and see how desolate it is,” he finally said, staring down at the ground.
I closed my eyes and made an effort to read his mind. I found myself staring into an empty warehouse, but I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination or not.
“Think of something happy,” I told him absently.
In my mind, a lone balloon suddenly appeared, floating in the emptiness, and I found myself smiling excitedly—
Then the balloon popped, and I heard a low, growling laugh echoing from the shadows.
Jesus. His one happy thought, and that fucking werewolf had taken it from him. Even in his memories.
I opened my eyes to find Xylo hanging his head. “I tried. That always happens when I think about my balloon.”
I smiled sadly, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “Where I live, balloons are easy to get,” I told him. “And I was able to see your thoughts,” I said, feeling proud of myself. It had been hit-or-miss.
He nodded with an empty smile. “Great job. Really.”
So I let it go—and I decided to be very careful about my stray thoughts from here on out. We reached the top of the stairs at the top of the tower and Xylo opened the wooden door leading inside. Although my shoulders tensed, I was somewhat relieved to be back indoors. Walking around outside in the open had been a nerve-wracking ordeal. I closed the door behind me, shrouding the room in darkness. I lifted my hand to cast a ball of fire for light only to remember that I didn’t have my magic.
Xylo murmured something under his breath and his ligaments suddenly began to glow brighter, casting the room in a soothing light. I smiled, nodding at him. Inwardly, I wanted to know exactly what his powers stemmed from. I doubted that his power was restrained to this castle, because having an army of skeletons that only functioned within its walls would be no help in the real world when Dracula chose to go on the warpath. They would serve as an incredible defense of the Castle, though.
I followed him through what was apparently an unimpressive storeroom, stepping over old discarded furniture that was almost stacked to the ceiling. Xylo suddenly held out a hand, glancing back at me. “We are not alone. Move in silence, and follow my footsteps,” he whispered, his teeth clicking on the T sounds. I nodded at him, idly wondering how he was able to make the S sounds.
He crouched in the doorway and I saw enough to realize we were on a high balcony overlooking a vast space. Xylo glanced left and right before settling down on his hands and knees and crawling up to the railing lining the balcony. I carefully followed him to the railing and glanced down. What made sense was that we were five stories above the ground floor. What didn’t make sense was that the library was significantly larger than it had appeared from the outside, and that several more balconies like ours rose over our heads—which was impossible since we’d climbed to the top of the tower before entering.
On each of those balconies were rows and rows of books.
Luckily, our balcony was dark and held no surprise guards or anything. I looked back down at the ground level to see a large, U-shaped desk in the center of the open space, and it was piled high with stacks of papers and old, leather-bound books.
That had to be Dracula’s desk. Because there was a blind-folded baboon seated cross-legged on the floor in front of it, and he had an ancient looking bamboo staff resting across his knees. I frowned at him thoughtfully. He was obviously a guard of some sort, and I was betting he was a lot more dangerous than he looked—which was plenty dangerous enough. Baboons were vicious, violent creatures when provoked.
The fact that he had only a staff, no armor, and was blindfolded almost made him scarier, in my opinion.
I nearly yelped when a shape moved on the railing of the balcony directly across from us, not thirty paces away. And then a third baboon lazily slipped from his perch on a higher balcony to fall two levels down, snatching onto a railing with almost sloth-like grace, bobbing rhythmically for a two-count, and then letting go to repeat the process a few times until he reached the ground floor. He had two kamas—basically handheld sickles—tucked into the back of a yellow sash tied around his waist. He was also blindfolded, but he’d navigated down the balcony as if his eyes were unnecessary.
I glanced down at the wooden floor of our balcony, truly noticing how warped the wood was and how much detritus littered the area—crumpled paper, dried leaves, dehydrated sticks and twigs, and even a glass object or two. Luckily, our path had been relatively clear or else—
My heart froze.
Sound traps.
The baboons had made sound traps. The floorboards would creak or you would accidentally disturb something on your path as you kept your eyes fixed on the baboons.
And that’s when they would come for you.
I squeezed Xylo’s arm and pointed at the traps, shaking my head.
I decided that I didn’t real
ly need to see the library that badly. Xylo nodded, reaching out to tap my shoulder and point out where I should crawl to get back into the room we had just left. I studied his directions and prepared to move back to safety.
I heard a heavy thud on the metallic rail behind me and flinched—silently. Nothing happened. I slowly craned my neck to glance back and my eyes widened. Xylo had his back pressed up against the railing and he stared at me, not moving a millimeter.
Because a motherfucking baboon was standing on the railing, his elongated feet gripping the bar, implying he must have dropped or swung down from a higher level, but he didn’t seem to have any interest in going any further than our balcony. He held a sai—a dagger with two sharp prongs curving outward from the hilt—in either hand, and his matted, shaggy fur was much thicker and longer than I would have thought, making him look two or three times larger than he probably was. It would also conceal his movements in a fight, the fur making it hard to see what his hands and feet were actually doing. The hair around his neck was even longer and thicker, resembling a mane of sorts. His back was to us or I would have tried killing him on the spot before he had a chance to raise an alarm.
The baboon’s bare ass shone in the light of Xylo’s glowing ligaments, giving me a too-close look at his crime scene. Simply put, it was impossible not to notice the stark contrast of bare skin compared to the long fur covering every other part of his body. Then he slowly, silently, began to crouch down to perch on the railing in a squat that only brought further attention to his anus.
Xylo didn’t make a sound. I didn’t make a sound, but I was confident my eyes looked as wide as Xylo’s smoking sockets. I was relieved to see that it didn’t appear that the baboon had any ability to smell or magically sense that smoke or we would have been in trouble. We’d seen at least three baboons so far, but more importantly, we’d seen three baboons in only our brief inspection of the immediate area.
This library was massive.
Godless: Feathers and Fire Book 7 Page 13
