FOR THE UNKNOWN KINGDOM | BOOK 1

CHAPTER 11

Denfer's desk was littered with books that seemed ancient and important, maps of places I didn't know that existed and . . . a drawing. Taking a steadying breath, I leaned back in the chair, holding the drawing with both hands. And it occurred to me as I was studying it, that a few weeks ago, I'd been in Lantra, examining the exact same drawing sprawled on my bedroom's floor. It also occurred to me that Denfer had found all of its pieces and put them back into place. It felt fragile and delicate, so I quickly left it on the desk again. I shouldn't have done it—ripped it apart. I shouldn't have touched it now with my sinful hands, either. But I didn't let guilt overflow me for if I did, maybe something would awake in me again, something that wouldn't be contained.

My stare fell on the heaviest book on his desk, the one that seemed like its cover had been crafted of gold, the only one whose title I could understand—for all the other ones were in languages I'd never come across in Lantra's history books.

The three powers of the universe: Sunlight, Darkness, Nature.

I read it once. Twice. Thrice. Touched the black calligraphic letters with my fingers, only to make sure the book was real. It was. And it seemed divine for someone like me to even take a look at it. Yet I couldn't put it back. Not when it spoke of things that Lantra had banned; not when I had the chance to learn how this world worked, how whatever was in me worked.

Biting my bottom lip, I stared at the book for another long moment and then another until I'd memorized every word, every part of the book's cover that seemed to hold the meaning of existence in its yellowish pages.

Then my eyes fell on another book, one I hadn't spotted before, whose title I could comprehend as well. I blinked at the power that laced each word.

The beginning and end of magic: From Asternal to Lantra.

I would have been terrified by the mention of Lantra in a book that revolved around magic. I would have been intrigued and mystified and out of my mind just by reading its title one more time. I would have gasped for air if the door hadn't opened widely; if Denfer hadn't stepped into the room like a furious, unexpected storm, threatening to shatter the Castle of Sunlight with only one movement of his hand.

"I know that you want the room for yourself, but—" He put a trembling hand on his chest, closing the door behind him. "I have nowhere else to go."

"Also . . . your bedroom is ready if you want it," he added, almost out of breath, as he leaned against the door. I could see his chest moving up and down, up and down, even through the layers of clothes and weapons. All black. He looked like he was only another shadow in the middle of the night.

"It's your room," I replied. "You don't have to explain yourself to me."

He breathed. In and out, trying to calm himself down.

He failed.

Taking a step toward me, I stood up too, trying to get away from him. With all those weapons and all that darkness dancing around him, he could very well be a well-trained assassin.

"You know . . . even if you hurt me, I promise I won't hurt you," he whispered, his words a silent echo through the dark room.

I clenched my fists, surveying him. "Why would I hurt you?"

He shrugged, like the reason I would do something like that was obvious, but replied nevertheless, "Because you don't trust me and because you're here without your will. Because you probably hate me, too."

A moment of silence and contemplation.

"I still wouldn't hurt you."

I watched him angling his head to the side, as in an effort to hide that small grin that dared to appear on his lips.