A Book of Spirits and Thieves

He could hear the tick of the clock in the adjoining room. He could hear Lucas, who stood waiting for him on the other side of the door, tapping on his phone as he wrote a text or answered an e-mail.

He could smell bread baking in the kitchen, somewhere in the house. He could see with perfect clarity each and every title written in gilded gold and silver and bronze on the spines of the books throughout the room.

“My senses . . . ,” he breathed.

“Are much improved,” Markus finished. “This will help you in countless ways.”

So this was how Lucas had been able to see in the near-pitch darkness of the tunnels, unafraid of tripping over his own feet. Now Farrell could do that as well.

“Thank you, Markus,” he said, lowering his head in deference.

“How do you feel, Mr. Grayson?”

“Incredible.” It was true. He’d never felt so good, so healthy, in his entire life.

Another nod from Markus. “Good. I have officially accepted you into my circle with this second mark. If you prove your worth fully to me, I will give you a third.”

A third mark? What gift would that give him?

“Now. I have an assignment for you, Mr. Grayson.”

My first assignment already? Farrell had barely begun to recover from the amazing effects of his new mark. He needed a drink. A big one. Straight up.

Still, clarity of mind shone through him. Above all else, he wanted to prove himself to this powerful god—the sooner the better.

“What is it?” he asked.

“There’s a girl who I believe is attempting to seek information about me and the Hawkspear Society. I feel her particular investigation could be problematic, for many reasons we don’t need to get into now. I want you to get to know her, make her trust you, find out what she’s hiding, what she knows of the society, and what she may want from me in particular. And I want you to report back everything you find.”

Farrell blinked. “You want me to spy on a girl.”

“Yes. Will you do this for me?”

He’d been hoping for some epic task that would allow him to prove his worth. Spying on some girl playing at being Nancy Drew sounded simple enough, but it wasn’t remotely groundbreaking.

Still, there was only one answer he could give, and he knew what it was.

“Of course I will, Markus.”





Chapter 12


MADDOX



The guards threw Maddox back into his dungeon cell, laughing as they slammed the door shut behind them. Maddox lay on the dirt floor, staring up at the low stone ceiling, stunned by the harsh treatment and by everything he’d witnessed.

“Maddox . . .” Becca crouched down next to him and peered at his face with concern. “Can you hear me?”

“No. I can’t hear anything anymore.”

“Clearly you can hear me if you’re answering me.”

“She ordered that snake to kill Livius. A big snake with fangs . . . that grew even bigger. Did you see it grow?”

“I saw.” She nodded. “So she’s really a goddess, huh?”

He finally met her gaze. “You’re accepting all this much more calmly than I would have expected.”

“Do I seem calm? Because I’m not. I’m screaming on the inside, but I’m trying to keep it together because losing my mind will not help either of us right now.” She exhaled shakily. “I’m sorry Livius is dead.”

“I’m not.”

“He was horrible to you, but nobody deserves to die like that.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re far too kind. You really aren’t from Mytica, are you?”

“No,” she replied. “I’m really not.”

He forced himself to sit up, pressing his back against the hard wall. He regarded the spirit girl in silence for a long time—so long that she began to twist the end of her golden braid around her index finger.

“What?” she asked.

“I’m thinking.”

“You’re staring. Staring makes me nervous. I don’t like being the center of attention. I even dropped out of Drama Club last month because of stage fright, which is strange because I’m normally very self-confident.”

He blinked. “You say a lot of words that don’t make any sense to me.”

“Sorry, your tourism bureau didn’t supply me with a dictionary upon arrival.”

“What’s a dictionary?”

“It’s a book that . . . oh, it’s not important right now.” She stood up and went to the door to peer out of the tiny window that looked out at the hallway. Moans and coughs and the occasional shriek could be heard from other cells. “We have to get out of here.”

“We?” he repeated. “I don’t know why you’re even still here. You could walk through that wall and leave this place far behind you.”

“That wouldn’t solve anything, would it? I need you out of here, too. You’re the only one who can help me.”

A fresh burst of frustration blossomed in his chest. “Why are you so sure I can help you?”

“Because you’re the only one who can see me and talk to me! And you can work spirit magic.”