Shadow Touched

54. NAIMA

The pulley creaks and squeals as Finch pulls us up. Welland's personal library is located in the building's core, four storeys up.

As thoughts of Grey marrying the Poletrovian princess threaten to overwhelm me, I pause to remember why we're here. It doesn't matter if I can't be with Grey, and it doesn't matter what games the King is playing; all that matters is saving Grey. Protecting him. Keeping him alive. I use that desire to push down my fear and center myself.

Opening my eyes, Keaton watches me. His hands still tightly grasp his weapon, and I fight the urge to laugh.

"You're rattled." He says. "I've never seen you rattled before."

"You've never dealt with the Shadow-Touched before," I reply. There's no point in pretending. Keaton's my friend, and I've pulled him into the most dangerous heist I can think of. As much as I want these gods damn journals, I want to keep him safe. The best way to do that is to be honest.

"It is my sincere hope I don't have to now."

I give him a tight smile. Another bang from below makes him jump.

"Your guard diversion was something else," I say, wanting to distract him as we make our way up. "How on earth did you convince that woman to ride naked on a horse?"

The lift comes to a stop; a dusting of soft light from low-lit pocket flames barely illuminates the space.

"What woman?" He asks, peeking around the edge of the shaft as I do the same on the other side. Positive the room is clear, he hopes out, offering me a hand.

"I mean the butt-ass nekkid lady you sent in on a beautiful white horse to distract the guards—that wasn't your doing?"

He shakes his head at me as he leans over the dumbwaiter and cuts free the box that makes up the lift. He lets out a long, low whistle so Finch knows he's good to come up.

"Then who was the lady?" I ask, not expecting an answer.

I do a quick tour of the room. The door is closed. No fire burns. An oriel window juts out at one end of the room. It's locked, but the drape that hangs from it is pulled back. The room is empty but for a rickety-looking side table and a short, fat chair under another ugly bat sconce. The space is, however, blissfully warm—Shadowed free, at least for now.

"That was fast!" Keaton exclaims as Finch steps into the room. "That was fast, right? Or am I just—"

"Super skinny and completely lacking in the upper body strength needed to climb a rope up four storeys? Yes."

Keaton feigns clutching nonexistent pearls.

"The cheek."

Finch chooses to ignore the conversation and walks past us and over to the fat little chair. It's old and worn. A leather-bound book sits on the seat. Finch swoops it up, reads the title, and snorts before dropping it on the little side table rather unceremoniously. He pushes the chair out of his way, steps up to the sconce, and pulls down on it.

A little too hard, it would seem, as the sconce pulls off from the wall and into his hand. He looks at the decorative piece and then chucks it onto the fat chair. Scratching his head, he runs his hands along the wall around where the sconce once lived. When nothing happens, he steps back from the wall and watches it.

"Um...Captain?" Keaton asks, concern in his voice. "Everything all right?"

"There's an entrance to the library through this room. I saw it on the estate plans. I was positive the sconce would reveal the entrance."

"Oh! I thought, like me, you were just offended by the sconce's ugliness." I say as I step up next to him. Keaton follows me so that the three of us stand shoulder to shoulder in the small reading room, staring at a wall. All while an unaccounted-for number of Shadow-Touched roam the estate.