Страница 46 из 130
Chapter 19 Cirri
The hours passed in a blissful daze, all of my attention focused on documenting the trove before me with the level of care the Librarians would have expected. I knew they would be scandalized that my hands weren’t encased in cotton gloves, or that the books were exposed to the light filtering through the high, narrow windows, but the vampires had haphazardly piled these books without a care in the world.
I supposed they had survived not only the fall of the Red Epoch and the bonfires that had dominated those times, but also the centuries since, stored in moldy bookcases, dank cellars, or under altars. One day of touching them without gloves probably wasn’t going to do much further damage.
Even so, it was a time-consuming, painstaking process to gently examine each one, noting the damage—and even worse to have to put each one aside for the next without a thorough examination of the contents. I wanted nothing more than to dig in immediately and begin searching for any text that might unlock more of the High Tongue runes, but the Sisters’ Head Librarian had drilled certain protocols into those of us who studied in her domain.
They really needed a Scrollkeeper for this kind of work. Perhaps, if I became a Librarian, I could find myself aspiring to that lofty position.
I was almost finished with the fourth pile when something touched my shoulder, almost startling me into dropping the precious book I held.
Bane drew his hand back self-consciously, shifting in place. “It’s been hours since you’ve stretched your legs, my lady. Shall we eat before I send you to Wyn?”
I blinked at him, and then at the dark windows. When had night fallen? Someone had come around the library and lit all the fat beeswax tapers, and I hadn’t noticed their presence, nor the exchange of daylight for candlelight.
When I straightened up and stretched my back, there was a dull ache in my spine from hunching over the books.
By the Light, he had a good point. I carefully laid the book back where I’d found it, and flipped in my journal to the conversation page, sucking in a breath as my back protested movement.
Still, I smiled at him before I wrote. It was sweet of him to phrase it like that… for us to eat together, though he would really like to sit and keep me company.
I completely lost track of time, but yes, I’m starving. Why am I going to Wyn?
Bane pulled my chair out for me and offered a hand, which I took thoughtlessly. Somehow the thought of his claws didn’t frighten me quite so much anymore—his hand was as warm and soft as anyone else’s. The sheer size was less of a concern now, and more of a comfort, like being enfolded in an embrace.
“She’s working on new art, and she needs a little more of your blood. She might have questions for you as well. But we’ll worry about Wyn later, shall we?”
I expected him to lead me from the library and to the great empty expanse of the formal dining room, but instead he brought me to a table near the library’s doors, already laid with a cloth, several covered dishes, and well away from any of the books.
“I thought… you seemed to dislike the other room,” Bane said quietly. “I thought perhaps you’d like to stay in here. This is your library now, after all; I can have Cook deliver meals while you’re working.”
I squeezed his hand as tightly as I could, which he probably hardly felt at all, and sat down, laying my journal to the side and uncovering the first dish. The scent of food hit me and my stomach chose to shriek instead of just grumbling.
She’d made a venison stew, along with buttered bread and a dish of roasted vegetables. I dug in with my left hand, writing with the right, a system I was quite used to from my days in the Cathedral.
Thank you so much. It really is like you know me already, isn’t it? It’s much cozier in here than the dining room.
He read my words as I ate one-handed, trying to rapidly shovel food into my mouth as politely as possible, which I was likely failing at miserably. But I’d skipped the midday break, and now felt ravenous enough to eat an entire horse.
“I agree. Even when there’s more humans living here, no one really likes that room…” He grimaced a little, his fangs glittering in the golden candlelight. “It’s just for show. Have you gotten through the inventory yet, or is there more?”
Definitely more. The books are simple enough, but the scrolls will take some time. They’re far too fragile to unroll without extreme care. But I think within a few days, I’ll be able to start the search for a parallel corpus and hopefully find something to continue the translations.
“I have every faith in you,” he murmured, and fell quiet, leaning back in the sturdy chair he’d taken for himself. I let my pen rest, taking a few more bites before writing again.
Did you finish your arrangements? You don’t smell like the forest today, so you didn’t go hunting.
The other night when he’d saved me from my own misery at di
“You can smell that?” he asked, tilting his head.
I shrugged. I can smell the pines on you when you come back from hunting.
He thought for a moment. “Do I smell bad to you?”
I stared at him, wondering why he would be concerned about that. Not at all. You smell like cedar and smoke to me. And warm skin. So what did you do?
“Ah.” He glanced off towards the library proper, avoiding my gaze. “I did finish my arrangements, yes. We’re hosting guests now, and Wyn’s project required some attention… and I already ate my di
Oh. Oh.
He thought I could smell the blood he’d drunk… and yes, I could smell it, the faintest iron tinge to his normal warm scent.
But not enough to bother me.
I took a bite as I thought, wondering when I’d grown used to the tang of fresh blood. Wondering why I couldn’t bring myself to submit to his teeth, if it didn’t bother me to know and fully internalize the fact that he’d bled someone before coming to see me.
I’ve gotten used to the scent of it, I wrote. It’s there, but it doesn’t bother me at all. Is that why you didn’t want to tell me?
Bane gazed down at his hands, folded in his lap. “Yes. I didn’t want to disturb you with talk of my meals during yours.”
But you drink blood, I pointed out, rather obviously. So it’s bound to come up at least every once in a while. I’m still working on the thought of it being my blood, but… it’s not exactly a mystery to me that your kind lives on it. You’re not going to put me off my appetite by mentioning that you ate.
The monster across from me gave me a crooked smile. “It’s just not the same. I can ask you how you enjoy your meals, or if something is to your liking, but for me… well, it seems more polite to not mention it.”
If it makes you feel better… I raised my brows at him. How did you enjoy your di
“Cirri, this is not going to help your fear of me,” he muttered, and I tapped the question imperiously. “Fine. For the most part, I don’t require much blood to survive on a day to day basis—I will drink more if I must go deeper into the fiend metamorphosis, but I prefer to maintain this aspect. I take my blood from prisoners—those condemned to death, those who have no chance of being permitted parole from the dungeons. It’s preferable to making a mistake with an i
No, I wrote, eating a heaping spoonful of stew to drive the point home. I was curious and I wanted to know. Do you drink from them, or do you… I don’t know, decant it like a wine first?
Bane read my question incredulously, then let out a snort of laughter that only emphasized the ridges of bone and cartilage across his nose and brow when he gri
Did it have a fine bouquet? I asked, unable to resist.
“Let’s just say it was well-aged, with notes of hard labor, no remorse, and a future death sentence.” He shook his head, still chuckling.
I polished off the stew, nibbling at the vegetables and thinking. He could joke about it, but it was obvious that he only fed as much as necessity dictated—I supposed that I too would dislike harvesting blood from condemned prisoners. Food was really such an intimate process with one’s own body that the idea of consuming blood from a monstrous person seemed invasive.
But he fed from them only because he didn’t want to harm someone i
There was no logic to the fact that I loved being near him, yet feared such a fundamental aspect of his being.
I wanted to overcome this horror, but I couldn’t afford to try again and fail. Not when I’d so clearly made him question himself the first night we’d tried, and if I failed again… I might completely shatter this burgeoning friendship.
“Cirri?” he asked quietly. “Are you… well?”
I nodded, realizing I’d been drifting off in my own thoughts, caught between my desire to try and my fear of making him feel inferior.
I was thinking, I wrote. There’s vampires all over Argent, but since I lived in the Cathedral, I almost never saw them. Everything I know about your people is purely academic. I do know that there were places where people could go if they wanted to be fed upon—but we were forbidden from so much as laying eyes on those shops. The Sisters think they’re heresy.
I flipped to a clean new page after Bane read it.
“Of course they do,” he muttered. “Yes, that was part of the arrangements in the Blood Accords. By law, none of us can feed without explicit permission—although I will note that we specifically added an addendum for the sake of the other three Lords and myself. Obviously, no one is going to line up for us to drink from them, so we’re permitted to decant blood from prisoners sentenced to death. But for most of my people, they have no problem sating their thirst. Those shops opened solely so those interested in my kind could… experiment for themselves. I’ve been told most of them return quite often.”