Crescent City: A Court of Thrones and Glass

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Bryce

A/N: Thanks @BobertoLee, @dufufgysyfjg, @Travelergirl123, @mcmabi, @obsessivebeach, @madelieflieve, @its_maya4, @Kerry0, @JCarter128497, @Clockworkgirl7, @Terrasen___LOVER, @Ritia6, @Awesomeme528, @IamalittleDinosaur, @Starlight5832, @cecilyherondale17, @toria15424, @barssoph02, @xXDaphneGrimmXx, @Persassy_Winchester and @mackenzig1234 for voting!

     Bryce placed a hand on the ornately carved door and to the so-called best library in the Night Court. She glared down at her manicure. Her blood-red nails were chipped and peeling; the worst they've been in a while.

     "Are you going to stare at your fingers all day or are you going to open the damn door," Hunt teased, crossing his arms. 
     

"I'm just debating whether I should risk Rhysand's wrath by throwing his books at you stupid face," Bryce retorted. The angel grinned, daring Bryce to try.

      Manon pushed past them, utterly ruining the moment. The witch brought a whole new meaning to the phrase "resting bitch face". Bryce jerked her hand off the door handle, her fingers barely escaping the witch's iron claws. The door opened with a soft sigh despite its old age and Manon prowled inside without a glance. Dorian breezed by, smirking at Manon's back, then at Bryce and Hunt.

     "I apologize for her foul mood. She didn't get much sleep last night," he said with a wink. Manon's answering snarl brought a grin to Bryce's face. With one last look at Hunt, Bryce entered the library in search of answers.

                                                                                             *      *      *    

 "This is bullshit!" Bryce got a stern look from Clotho, the priestess helping her, as she slammed the book she was reading onto the table. Six hours of researching and not a clue on how to get home. "Are there any more books on world travelling?" Bryce asked Clotho apologetically. The silent priestess nodded her head towards the giant stack of worn novels gathered at the end of the table. Bryce groaned, leaning back in her chair and scrubbing her face. She glanced across the cavernous space. Two floors down, Hunt was frowning at the book on the low table in front of him, his arms crossed. Bryce stood, stretched her stiff body, and walked over to the spiral staircase. Leaning against the stone railing, she looked up at the massive skylight window in the ceiling. The sun was peeking out from behind some puffy clouds and the sky was a soft blue. A nice enough day that Bryce wished she could take the books outside to read. Clotho had shook her head profusely  when Bryce had asked, so she took that as a no. She gazed down into the black depths of the pit below her. Bryce shivered. She could have sworn she saw two large, unblinking eyes were staring up at the sky, but they disappeared like she imagined them.

     The stone was cool against her forearms, sending goosebumps up her bare arms. She looked up to where Dorian was researching. The coffee table had a book open facedown on it, and the lounge chair was askew like he had gotten up quickly. But Dorian wasn't there. A sinking feeling crept its way into Bryce's stomach. Something was out of place, but she had no idea what. Bryce sprinted up the stairs. She searched for any sign of the King, but he was not on this floor. Bryce looked down into the pit again. Manon had secluded herself a few levels up from the floor of the library, but even the fearless, bloodthirsty witch had no intention of finding out what was at the bottom. Bryce ran down the stairs to where Manon was supposedly reading. A book lay discarded on a table and an empty chair was left untucked. Beside the book, four deep gauges marred the smooth surface of the wood. They were fresh, but the witch who made them was no where to be found. She hadn't heard them leave or anyone start a fight. The sickly feeling intensified and Bryce bolted up the stone steps taking two, three, at a time. 

     "Hunt," she gasped. He looked up and jumped immediately out of his chair, eyes filled with concern. 

     "What's wrong," he asked putting his hands on her heaving shoulders.

     "They're gone. Manon and Dorian...I can't find them. Something's wrong, I can feel it." Hunt turned, eyes sweeping the open floors of the library.

     "We'll split up and find them. Shout if you find anything. Let's meet back here," he said, his dark stare fixed on hers. "Don't panic." Bryce nodded and ran down the stairs to search the lower floors, Hunt taking the upper. Methodically, she looked down each row of bookcases and at every table. No sign of them. Down and down she went, without finding anything. From the sounds of things, Hunt hadn't either. That damn feeling was eating at her, refusing to subside. She cleared the second last floor, staring at the stairs that would lead into the darkness at the bottom of the library. A voice in the back of her mind shouted at her not to take another step. Then she remembered the eyes, staring up at the window. That voice must be Common Sense. For the first time ever in her miserable life, Bryce decided to listen to Common Sense. She turned on her heel and darted up the stairs to meet Hunt. When she reached the floor, Hunt was already there.

     "I couldn't find them," he said, a hint of unease in his voice. "Scared the shit out of some priestesses though." Bryce was in no mood to laugh.

     "Me neither. I didn't reach the bottom floor. I had a bad feeling," Bryce responded. Hunt raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms.

     "Scared?" He asked skeptically. Bryce just shook her head. With a huff, Hunt vaulted over the staircase, spreading his wings wide, and flew down to the bottom of the dark pit. Bryce ran to the railing and looked down. As fast as he had descended, Hunt shot up from the depths and slammed into the ground beside Bryce. He couldn't have been down there for more than a few seconds but his face was white as a sheet and he was panting. He grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the ascending staircase.

     "We need to leave. Right. Now." Hunt growled. He stomped up the stairs, yanking Bryce along. Despite his sudden aggressiveness, his palms were clammy, and she could hear his heart pounding in his chest. Bryce understood: the Umbra Mortis was scared shitless. She felt the urge to laugh, but the realization turned her sinking feeling into full blown terror. 

     "Hunt, what did you see?" Bryce demanded, trying and failing to pull him to a stop. Now it was his turn to shake his head, lips pressed together in a thin line. She didn't push it and let him drag her out of the dark, possibly haunted Library. 

     Out on the street in broad daylight, Bryce's terror abated. Hopefully whatever was down there didn't know how to use doors. Still, Dorian and Manon were missing, and they weren't in the Library, unless that thing took them. She pushed that thought away. Suddenly, Bryce sensed a powerful, ancient magic coming towards them from down the street. Her Starborn powers sang at the feel of it. It felt foreign and familiar. Like home, yet not. She turned in its direction. Hunt did at the same time, as if he could feel it too. In the arms of a pale-skinned female was a book. It was calling her. It looked completely ordinary. No title. Bound in worn, red and green dyed leather. It was nothing, but it was everything. Bryce looked at the female's. Carrying the book was.....Manon? Bryce's mouth dropped open. The witch was stalking down the sidewalk, Dorian keeping pace beside her. They locked eyes and Bryce stumbled towards them.

     "Where did you get that?"