There are one-hundred-and-fifty scratches upon the stone ceiling above my bed. I know because I counted every single one over and over through the long hours of the night.
When Roman stirs awake, I’m already sitting up.
“You’re awake?” he mumbles, rubbing his eyes.
“Yeah, I can’t seem to rest my mind.”
“Are you nervous?”
“Just restless.”
He grins suddenly, boyish and bright. I’m going to miss seeing his happiness. “Come with me. I’ve got just the thing to get your mind off of it.”
We sneak through the castle, down the stairs and past the closed temple doors, a left turn, a few doors past Thorn’s, and deeper into an unused corridor. Shadows pool in the corners and the scent of old books lingers. Roman stops at a small alcove framed by two candlesticks and a faded portrait of a couple.
“Watch this.” He winks and pulls one of the candlesticks down. A click echoes, then a slow groan of shifting stone. The wall moves inward like a door, revealing darkness beyond.
My jaw drops. “Another secret door?”
“Another?” His eyes widen. “You found one too?”
“Yeah, in our room. Behind the mirror.”
“No way.” He gasps. “I can’t believe it was right under my nose! I’ll check that later. But wait until you see this.”
The narrow door opens into a cavernous space and my breath catches.
A library.
Three soaring stories of books rise to a vaulted, arched ceiling. Balconies ring the upper levels, iron ladders stretching toward shelves packed with leather spines and parchment scrolls. A massive hearth blazes on the main floor, its flames painting the shelves gold. Armchairs and lounges are scattered across rugs, which is a warm contrast to the chill of the cliffside halls.
I step forward, awed. “Gods …”
Roman looks smug at my reaction. “Told you it was good.”
A figure sits in one of the armchairs by the fire. His red robes pool around him like a blanket, his balding head gleaming in the firelight. A priest, engrossed in his book.
“Don’t mind him,” Roman whispers. “That’s my friend, Wise.”
Wise glances up, offers a small smile, then returns to his page.
I collapse into the chair closest to the fire. After days in the cold belly of the cliff, and the nights under the cool night sky, the warmth seeps deliciously into my skin.
“Hey, that’s my spot,” Roman grumbles.
“Finder’s keepers.”
He shakes his head, auburn hair shimmering in the firelight, but sits in the leather chair across from me, grinning. “I’ve been spending a lot of time here. Learning about the temple, the priests. Did you know only a few of them vow never to eat meat? And since they can’t shift on temple grounds, some of them stop using their wolf form altogether.”
“That’s … sad,” I murmur, glancing at Wise. Would I be able to give up shifting for my devotion to the gods? I doubt it. It’s what makes us wolves.
Roman nods. “But not all of them. Wise still shifts, still hunts. He was explaining that when a priest takes their vows, you pick a new name; a wolf quality you want to embody. He was always buried in books, so he chose Wisdom. Makes sense, right?”
I smile faintly. “It does. There’s a whole new world here at the temple.”
“It made me think what I would want to be called.” He stares into the fire.
“Is Jerky Breath taken?” I snicker.