My heart squeezes sickeningly. It’s such a horrible thing to do to another person, to a child, that I can’t quite wrap my head around it.

But Raze isn’t done.

“I was old enough to know that it was evil. That she was... But I didn’t want to see it. I used to think that it was just an accident, what happened to my parents. A coincidence. But now...” The pause that follows is so dark and empty it makes my chest ache. “Now I’m not so sure.”

Oh.

Loud Raze, brash Raze, annoying Raze, flirtatious Raze. All layers of paint slapped over this deep pit of sorrow and confusion. I can’t say I suddenly understand him now, or that it makes his other sides any less real.

But a useless, sympathetic ache fills me anyway. Wisely, I keep my mouth shut this time, trying to project sympathy in my light touch on his wrist.

“You saw me under a faerie glamour,” Raze laughs, after a long pause. “I thought it couldn’t possibly get more embarrassing than that.”

Unwelcome memories of his dreamy expression and the warmth of his hands flash through my head. “No.” I pull away, sitting up a little straighter. “It’s not silly.” It’s what I should have said first, but now will have to do.

He hums, but whether it’s in agreement or not, I don’t know. For several long moments, the silence hangs empty between us with a strange new openness.

It’s awkward, this friendship thing. Awkward and uncomfortable. Because now that I know more about Raze, now that he knows me, it’s harder and harder to hide all the things we’d rather keep to ourselves.

The silence between us is open—but it’s also vulnerable.

Finally, he cracks it.

“Maybe we should split up,” Raze suggests, as we pass from a forest of tall shelves into a clearing of sunlight and smooth stone. “Cover more ground.”

“Yes,” I agree quickly. We’re almost to the stairs again now. “Let’s meet on the third floor landing just before sunset. Think you’ll be okay alone?”

Raze shoots me an almost-convincing overconfident grin, all teeth and floppy red hair. “Believe me, I’m just fine on my own.” Then he keeps walking, this time not waiting for my shorter pace to catch up.

chapter twenty-seven

The sound of Raze’s footsteps fades, leaving me completely alone. The back of my neck prickles, like I’m being watched. I ignore the feeling, telling myself over and over that I’m not going to let some dusty old books and shadowed, cobwebby corners scare me. I’m on a mission. I’m an enchanter, and I can take care of myself.

For the first time, that thought is more of a comfort than a burden. Despite everything, some part of me feels stronger knowing I have magic at my fingertips, and I can’t entirely hate it. I’ve been bullied and smashed down and targeted my whole life. Suddenly, I can bite back.

I shouldn’t—but I can.

I wander from one room to the next, walking slowly, stopping occasionally to take a closer look at anything that sticks out. My fingertips itch with the desire to run along the spines of the books, to pluck them off the shelf and flip them open, but I’m no fool. I’ve read my fair share of faerie stories. Tearing my eyes away, I dig my nails into the tender skin of my palms.