Devilish Game (Shadow Guild: The Rebel 4)

“No. I know it’s an almost impossible task, like finding a needle in a haystack.” I frowned, looking at all the books around us. “I don’t know how we’ll search every one.”

“We won’t need to.” Seraphia turned and gestured for us to follow. “Come, we need to find out where to look first.”

I followed her to the middle of the enormous space. Tables and chairs ringed the room, but the center was empty. Tiles had been laid in intricate patterns, their edges blackened by what appeared to be flame.

We were nearly to the center of the room, the shelves towering around us, when Seraphia held out a hand, indicating that we needed to stop. “Wait there.”

We did as she instructed, and she strode forward. Silently, she waved an arm over the tiles in front of her, and a green flame burst to life. It flickered and danced, rising twenty feet in the air.

I gasped and stepped back, the heat blasting me. Seraphia chucked the paper into the flame, then waited, her arms crossed.

I watched, awestruck, as the flames died down and smoke curled toward the ceiling. It rose to about fifty feet in the air—only half the way to the ceiling that soared overhead—then turned right, moving horizontally toward some shelves. It zipped down a darkened hallway that I hadn’t noticed before.

Seraphia’s gaze followed the smoke, and she strode toward it. “Come.”

We followed her toward the hallway, entering a space where the light dimmed to almost nothing and dark smoke curled along the ground.

“No matter what I do, I can’t keep this part lit,” Seraphia said. “The books just absorb all light.”

A chill filled the air, and I shivered. Dark vines grew over the bookcases, some studded with black lilies, and others with thorns.

“I hate this wing,” Seraphia muttered from up ahead.

“How is this place real?” I asked, my gaze traveling over the bookshelves that soared nearly fifty feet in the air. The sight gave me vertigo.

“Magic, of course,” Seraphia said. “It’s connected to libraries all over the world. Like one big library with many secret doors.”

“Have you explored it all?” I asked.

She laughed, dodging a spikey vine that reached out for her. “Not even close. There are parts I don’t even know exist, I’m sure of it. I can feel them, just out of reach—worlds I’ve never been to—but I don’t know how to get to them.”

It was wild. And terrifying.

Finally, she stopped in front of an enormous ladder that stretched all the way to the ceiling. She shoved it over until it was right next to the wispy column of smoke.

Quickly, she climbed the ladder, as graceful as a ballerina on the stage. This was her stage, the place she spent her days, surrounded by fabulous books. I liked reading as much as the next gal, but it was nothing compared to the love that Seraphia clearly had.

She retrieved a book and climbed back down, turning to us so that she could hand the book to me. “Your answers should be in there.”

The flame and smoke had fully dissipated, leaving no trace. I looked down at it, anticipation singing through me.

“Come.” Seraphia gestured for us to follow. “There’s a nice table and a good lamp over here.”

We left the creepy wing and returned to the main part of the library, which suddenly felt ten times as inviting. She helped us get set up at the table, turning on the lamp so it shone on the ancient book. None of us sat, instead preferring to lean over the book, our gazes rapt. Carefully, I opened the ancient text.

The words were a series of scribbles that I’d never seen before. “That is not English.”

“It doesn’t even look modern,” Mac said.

“It’s Cuneiform.” Surprise flickered in Seraphia’s voice and she leaned low over the book. “It’s a recording from one of the ancient tablets.”

“Cuneiform?” I asked.

“One of the oldest languages known,” Seraphia said. “Developed by the Sumerians in Mesopotamia, but it was used over much of the Middle East thousands of years ago.”

“Holy fates.” Mac frowned at the book. “Why are the kidnappers into Cuneiform? I thought only nerdy old scholars were into it?”

“For the most part, yes.” Seraphia leaned closer. “Actually, it looks like a slightly different version of Cuneiform. Perhaps Ugaritic.” She gestured to the book. “Keep turning the pages, let’s see what it says.”