Lock and Key (Nocturne Academy 1)

The black key tugged at my neck again and then pulled away, as though trying to get to the door.

I frowned—could it be that the black Blood Stone key was the answer? I had thought it was only meant to unlock the padlock around Griffin’s throat but maybe it could help me in another way too.

Carefully, I reached into my shirt and pulled the key out. The chain grew obligingly longer so I didn’t have far to reach to fit it into the lock.

“Hey, what’s that?” Avery frowned at the key when it slid smoothly home, as though it had been made especially for this particular lock.

“Just something I found at a flea market,” I said absently and turned the key in the lock.

“What is that? One of those keys that fits any lock? A what do you call it—a skeleton key?” Kaitlyn asked excitedly.

“Something like that,” I said. And since the door was now unlocked, I tucked the key back into my shirt, turned the shiny brass knob and pushed it open. “Are you coming?” I asked Avery, who was looking at me in frank amazement. He seemed to get over it after a moment, though he was still eyeing the lump under my shirt where the key lay with uncertainty.

“Coming,” he echoed and we pushed our way into the South Tower, our feet barely making a noise on the flagstone floors.

Great, we were in. Now what?

63

“Now we go up about a bajillion stairs,” Avery informed me. “The library is at the very top of the tower—in the cupola.”

I looked up the broad gray stone stairs that spiraled around and around the outside edge of the tower and groaned. But really, what could we do but climb? After all, it wasn’t like there was going to be an elevator in a thousand-year-old stone castle.

Also, though it was a pain in the butt, putting all the valuable, rare magic books at the very top of the tower made sense. Who would try to steal them once they realized they had to climb forever to get to them and then cart them down all those stairs?

We started climbing, passing wooden doors along the way that led, first to various classrooms and then to the dorms—or so Avery said. I peeked into a few of them and saw that all the beds were full-sized with rich-looking tapestry-type canopies and the wardrobes were shiny, polished oak, unlike the battered ones we had in the Norm Dorm. The rugs on the floors looked thick and fluffy and new and the brocade drapes hanging in the windows looked like something you might see on a tour of Buckingham palace.

“Nice to see how the other half lives, isn’t it?” Avery said dryly as I scanned one of the dorms before moving on. “Does it make you want to move up here, away from the Norm Dorm?”

“Not for a minute,” I said without hesitation. “I’d rather live in a hole in the ground with you guys than in a mansion with Nancy and her merry band of assholes.”

Avery snickered at this and shot me an appreciative glance.

“Snarky—very snarky, Princess. I think I’m rubbing off on you.”

“Maybe you are,” I said, grinning at him. “You’re helping me unlock my inner bitch-witch.”

“Speaking of unlocking,” he said with studied casualness as we continued to climb. “That’s a very interesting key you just happened to have with you. You say you found it in a flea market?”

“Yup. In Tampa,” I said, just as casual as he was.

“Mm-hmm.” Avery nodded thoughtfully. “And did you know it had magical properties at the time? Because that is clearly no ordinary key.”

“Well,” I said carefully, waiting to see if the key would react to being talked about. “I know that once I put it on, I couldn’t take it off again. Maybe…maybe it recognized something about me,” I said. I was still determined not to talk about the lock it matched—the one Griffin had around his neck.

“Maybe so,” Avery said, frowning. “Or maybe there’s more to it than that. Maybe someone or something wanted you to find it.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. “How could anyone know—Oh!”

My exclamation was because we had finally come to the very top of the tower and I had carefully pushed open the black wooden door labeled Library in flowing golden script.

Inside were rows of books on shelves but not just books—tomes. Great, thick, leather-bound things that had to be centuries old. Several of them were open on stands around the room, showing beautiful, vibrant colors and illustrations which I could see even in the dim golden glow from the few overhead lamps which were still on.

“These are illuminated manuscripts,” I said excitedly, stepping into the room. “I got to study a few of these at University of Seattle’s rare manuscript section about a year ago.”