Blackwing (Eila's Exile Book 2) by D.S. Bailey & Michael Anderle

Author:D.S. Bailey & Michael Anderle [Bailey, D.S. & Anderle, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: LMBPN Publishing
Published: 2024-12-19T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Grimrock adjusted his spectacles on the bridge of his nose. He brought the Faerie Lens closer to his face, examining the jewels and details on its frame.

The glass was flawless. Grimrock had noticed that when Eila and Corvus handed it to him. Only a few hours later, he had spilled liquid across its surface and found that after it dried, there was no residue. There wasn’t even a fingerprint.

“Oh, the wonder of magical items,” he muttered beneath his breath.

The troll glanced at the open page of a nearby book, whose pages were as large as a newspaper. The bindings were cracked but solid. A question plagued his mind, and no matter how many books he rifled through, he couldn’t find the answer.

It was like a grain of sand in the corner of his eye. He knew it was there, but try as he might, he couldn’t get rid of it. If he could just relieve the discomfort of not knowing, he would be okay. He knew the answer lay in his library. The question was, in which book?

So far, all he had determined was that almost a thousand years ago, there had been more than one lens, used by the fae of all realms to navigate to the other realms. Back then, Grimrock’s breed had been numerous, and they’d guarded the faerie doors. After the Cataclysm, the number of doors had diminished, and the authorities of many realms destroyed their passages to control foot traffic.

Some things had improved since the Great Cataclysm, but trust in other species had fallen to an all-time low.

“Where are you? Where are you?” Grimrock muttered, staring over the rim of his glasses. His hot chocolate had grown cold, and a thick skin had developed on the top. He idly pinched at the skin between two fingers, then placed it in his mouth as he stared at the unexplored volumes piled nearby.

He held up the Faerie Lens and looked at himself. His large face filled the mirror’s surface. He was excited about using the item to explore the city and discover lost faerie doors, but right now, something else troubled him—something Eila had mentioned during her confession of her adventures with Lyrian.

On the day Lyrian had been arrested, there had been whispers that an intruder had attempted to steal the Icicle Sceptre.

Grimrock put down the mirror and picked up the book, its pages still held open by an empty glass jar. One had an illustration of the sceptre, which was exquisite in its simplicity. Its handle had sleek, curved lines. The weapon was bound to the reigning king or queen of the Winter Court. From the sceptre came control of cold and frost, and it was rumored that it had built the palace.

Lost to time, it was unclear if that was true or simply legend. After all that Grimrock had seen and the impossibilities that had graced the realms he had inhabited, however, he believed the tales.

So, had someone attempted to steal the sceptre that

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