Page 210 of Vasmora

Books lay in neat piles on the table in the library, and I rummaged through the stack in search of the one I sought. My shoulders crept toward my ears, tension coiling in my chest, and I threw a book from the stack onto the table, sending the others tumbling into a messy pile. “Where is it!”

I had already perused the shelves once, but urgency had me twisting around, scanning every book a second time.

It had to be there somewhere. There was nowhere else I would’ve left it.

Movement at the edge of my vision startled my already frayed nerves, and I jumped back as spider crawled toward me on seven legs, its eighth carrying a snipped stem of what reminded me of white columbine.

In spite of my frustration, I smiled, kneeling down to pluck the small flower free. “Branimir?”

Horns like curled branches peeked from behind the bookshelves, and he stepped forward, his gaze low, hands fidgeting. “I heard your voice through the walls,” he said quietly. From behind the shelf, he held an object out to me. My book. “You left it behind. I wanted to keep it safe.”

My muscles unclenched as I rose to my feet and clutched the book to my chest, exhaling a breath of relief. “Thank you.” So overwhelmed, I darted forward and wrapped my unburdened arm around him, his skin coarse and stiff against mine.

When he didn’t bother to hug me back, I released him, cheeks flushed on seeing his arms outstretched, as if he didn’t know what to do with them. “My apologies. I’m just very relieved.” I flipped through the pages, recognizing the Grymswood tree, where I’d left off.

The spider crawled up his leg, perching itself on his shoulder, and he lowered his hands, his brow furrowed. “I heard you were captured by the general. I worried for you.”

The mention of Loyce sent a heavy dread to my chest. “She certainly has a gift for terrorizing.” Not even the air of amusement in my voice could lighten the suffocating apprehension her name stirred. “I’m fine now.”

“Are you.” He reached out and lifted a curl of my hair, running it through his fingers. “You know, strength isn’t measured by conquests. It’s measured by resilience.”

I traced the bony spine of my book and nodded. “I’ll be okay.”

“The fact that you’re here now tells me so. Will you visit me? In the evenings, like before?”

His question brought a smile to my face. “Of course.”

“And you’ll sing?”

“I’ll sing, yes.”

The corner of his lips pulled, as if he wanted to smile. Instead, he seemed to stare off at something behind me. His brows lowered, lip peeled back to a snarl.

I glanced back, finding nothing there. “What is it?”

“Dolion,” he growled. “My pets are starving for him.” Without another word, he disappeared behind the bookcase, and a knot coiled in my chest.

My feet seemed to move by their own will as I followed after him, peering around the bookshelf to where the wall opened on a dark tunnel lit by a single torch.

Seeing Branimir within there, and I scurried after him, slipping past the entrance just before the wall closed behind me. He tugged the torch from its bracket and spun around, brow furrowed.

My muscles jolted at the unsettling sight of his eyes glowing in the dim light, his pale skin tracing the crooked lines of his posture. Had I not established a friendship, I’d have found him a terrifying sight, especially trapped in the dark with him.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said.

“I’m sorry, I’m just worried, is all.”

“Stay close.” He twisted back around and led us through the brick passage. The ceiling was only a couple inches above Branimir’s head, and webs cluttered the corners. The scent of mold clogged my nose, and while I couldn’t see any immediate threat, I sensed something watching us from the shadows.

“I had no idea the castle held secret tunnels,” I said, as we passed an adjacent corridor, the end of which appeared like a black void.

“Escape routes. In the event of siege, or attack. If only my mother had been privy to them,” he muttered.

While determined, his steps remained unhurried, as if he were more angry than concerned. Unintelligible shouts echoed from ahead, and he turned a sharp corner for a door that he opened on a familiar room—the small space where he slept.

Stepping inside, I trailed my gaze over the numerous webs and small cocooned creatures they held, finding Dolion toward the back, completely encased in webs.

A spider, the size of which took up half the wall, loomed over him.