Her eyes devoured the words within the book. Little Marsh, the capital of Ember was long known for its eternal light. But perhaps first to be forgotten was its original intent. Little Marsh was first created as the watchtower for Château Doré.
She paused. The Gilded Chateau? She’d never heard of such a place, although this must be it. The chateau was beautiful, certainly, but it had never appeared in any of the history books she’d read.
Amicia leaned forward. She licked her finger clean of dirt and smudge, then pressed it against the lines to follow the words.
Surrounded by walls no army could ever conquer, Little Marsh was the first defense against any attack. Their history books were wiped of this information when the Great Fall occurred.
Then, the book continued on to talk about Little Marsh’s ability to grow crops within the walls and therefore had no need for outside farmland.
That’s well and good, she thought, but what about the Great Fall? What about Chateau Doré?
Amicia flipped a few pages, scanning to see if there was any more information about what the author had stated. Nothing at all. Instead, there were more pages filled with details of what made Little Marsh unique.
Slumping, she closed the book and stared down at the cover. Andre Bernard, you have been useless. Now I must find another book to explain what you were talking about.
What was the Great Fall? It sounded like something she should have known about. Such a title wasn’t given unless it had affected the kingdom remarkably. And yet, she’d never even heard the words uttered.
The author had said the information was wiped from the history books of Little Marsh. But why? Why would anyone want to take away the history of an entire kingdom?
Hope burned a hole in her chest, far worse than guilt or fear. Within these books may be a way to save her people. To change them back from the Dread and to the men and women they once were. And this hope was infinitely worse because she had to stay alive now. For them.
She spun around and stared at the bookcases. There had to be some more information about that in this place. Somewhere between the covers were the answers she sought; all she had to do was find the right book.
Claws scraped the ground outside.
Amicia froze for a few moments until the doorknob turned.
She bolted from her seat and ran to the other side of the room just as the door opened.
Ducking into the secret passageway, she thought to run, but there were no sounds of destruction. The Dread were always trying to destroy everything in their path when they chased her.
Heart thundering in her chest, she turned to stare back at the small opening in the wall. No eye stared back at her. No sounds of the hunt echoed through the room. Instead, there was only the quiet sound of tapping.
What was it doing?
She should run. She should slip back through the walls and not tempt fate. This was just exhaustion telling her that curiosity was worth being satisfied, even if it put her in danger.
Her mind couldn’t convince her body to run. Instead, she turned back to the opening, placed a hand on the edge of the wall, and leaned around it to glimpse the creature beyond.
It stood at the back corner of the library. No, not it. He.
The largest of the Dread, the one who had been seated on the throne and who was to blame for losing poor Remy. He stood staring out into the storm with his back to her. He clasped his hands behind his back, a feat she hadn’t thought possible considering the breadth of his leathery wings. Feet spread wide, talons digging into the stone floor with those strange legs bent at the wrong angle.
Amicia might have been more afraid if he had seemed to be searching for her, like the others. Instead, he stood there. There was something almost sad in the way his shoulders curved forward, the way he stood frozen. But his gaze remained locked on the storm that raged outside the windows.
Who was this Dread? The question popped up in her mind like a scream. She needed to know the answer to this.
He released his hands at his back and reached for the book she’d left on the table. The Dread lifted it in his hands, turned it back and forth, then smiled. The wicked points of his fangs gleamed.
When he traced a claw over the letters, she had the strangest impression he wasn’t like the others. This creature could read, or at least knew these were words on a page. Which only made her wonder just how much she didn’t know about them.
Were they all like him? Were they all capable of learning?
A deep growl rumbled through his chest, the sound like thunder and a reminder she shouldn’t linger in the corridors where he could see her. She needed to hide again, because the creatures weren’t people who needed help.
She turned deeper into the passages and fled from the monster in the library.
These were the Dread. Monsters in the middle of the night who, though they may have thoughts of their own, were still beasts hunting her. Whether the change would take the human parts away from her or not, she wanted to remain the woman she was.
Her adventure had only given her more questions.
Who were these creatures? Why were they here? She could find the answer to these questions if only she looked a little harder.
At least she had a reason to continue hiding. A reason to keep fighting.
Chapter 8
Amicia tucked her newfound blanket tight around her shoulders. She’d come across the ragged fabric in the tunnels, an old cloak that had seen better days. Rats had chewed through much of it, using the bits and pieces to build their nests. But once she’d shaken the dust and droppings out, it had made a good blanket.
She’d survived another night. One more sunrise and sunset, although it was hard to tell through the raging snow outside. When had a storm ever lasted this long? They usually passed quickly. And yet, the strange chateau always seemed to be blanketed in powdery white.
As she watched the snow fall outside the windows of her now home, a rat ran across the sill. It’s fat fluffy body nearly rolled to the hole in the wall. Her stomach growled and pinched in on itself, reminding her she hadn’t eaten for two days now. What little water she gathered from the snow at broken windows could keep her going for a while, but not long enough to survive.
She had to find food. Something more than just snow.
Jerking the edges of the blanket underneath her armpits, she left the stained glass room and descended back into the secret passageway where she might find the kitchens once more. She’d already seen them. There was no food she could eat other than ancient smudges of rot. But she had to try.
The Dread had to eat something. The townsfolk had always claimed they devoured human flesh, ripping it from the bone, raw. If they’d changed Remy into a monster like them, and they’d once been humans themselves, would they really consume human flesh?
The Dread were not mythical creatures living off of air and fear. They had to eat something, which meant there had to be some kind of storeroom. She’d take anything, even rat meat.
She was too weak to keep up with the dastardly beasts. Her father had taught her how to make a rat trap once, but she hadn’t paid attention at the time. When would she ever have needed to know how to make a trap! She’d believed she’d always have Father to get rid of vermin.
She touched a hand to the wall, steadying herself as a wave of nausea and dizziness made her sway. Perhaps she should have listened to her father a little more.