Deidre’s squeal rolled up the hill to me. My Changeling had morphed into her own person. From bleached hair to the clothes she wore, she was nothing like me. And who could blame her? The Fey had grown her in the Garden of Life to be me. To take over my life after I was born, when my parent faery would have come to switch us and take me away so I could become a Sentinel. That is, if I hadn’t disappeared with my mom.
Royston chased Deidre around with a bucket, water sloshing over the rim. I used to have fun like her, but the survival of both worlds wasn’t on her shoulders. And I guess it was on Royston’s, too. He was the chosen one. The one who could bring down the Tetrad.
Though Royston looked nineteen or twenty, he’d been alive for hundreds of years. Stuck in the Somnium, where time was frozen, he had remained the age he was when he’d fallen into the trap. With his long, light brown hair and thick shoulders, he was like a feral god.
Cadby’s bat-like wings twitched on his back as his eyes followed Royston and Deirdre. He’d been Royston’s guard since he was a boy. Mailes never expressed any emotions—it wasn’t in their DNA. Cadby had said his people were fiercely loyal. The way he watched over Royston proved that statement.
Cadby ran a hand across his bald head, his pale skin nearly matching the yellow paint on the house. The straight line of his mouth and those alert eyes, the color and shape of black pebbles, definitely masked his emotions. If there were any to mask.
Sinead and Carrig prepared breakfast in the kitchen, the sheer curtains fluttering with the breeze entering through the open window. Carrig lifted a spoon to Sinead’s lips for her to taste something he’d cooked. My biological father and his wife were cute together. I’d be lucky to have such a loving relationship as theirs one day.
The other Sentinels on my team kept busy. Demos and Lei sharpened their swords. Though we hadn’t used them in months, Carrig insisted we clean and hone them weekly. He said it was a Sentinel’s duty to have presentable weapons at all times. Jaran carried a basket of vegetables from the garden to the house and glanced in my direction before entering. He was checking on me again, worried I’d have a breakdown. What he didn’t know was that I was too numb to have one.
Unlike Jaran, Arik—our leader and my ex—avoided eye contact with me as he fed a bottle to an orphaned baby goat. Since our breakup and his claim that he still loved me, we’d barely spoken about where we stood with each other, or about my feelings for Bastien. I supposed there wasn’t anything else to say. Relationships were the last thing I needed to worry about with Nick gone and the recent deaths crushing my heart.
Cadby climbed the hill, heading in my direction. I returned my attention to the journal, hoping he’d get the hint and leave me alone.
He didn’t.
“Breakfast is almost ready,” he said, stopping in front of me.
“Hopefully it isn’t figs.”
“I’m not certain what the meal is. I don’t believe it’s figs. I enjoyed figs. They were a treat when I was a boy.”
I pointed at the page. “This acronym spells out CAN FIGS.”
“What are you reading?”
“Gian’s journal,” I said, not bothering to look up. “It has a list of libraries and the trapdoors he found in them. Then this random notation.”
“The initials stand for something?”
“I think it’s an acronym.” I frowned.
A look of concern crossed his face. “What’s the matter?”
“I thought he might have some clues in here. Something that said what I needed to do. I have no idea what it means to be Royston’s protector or guardian or whatever I am.”
His wings hugged his back as he rubbed his bald head. “You are a warrior. Follow your instincts. In time, you will know what to do.”
“I’m glad you have faith in me.” The sarcastic tone of my voice suggested I didn’t. I needed to get out of my own brain, stop the insistent fear from freaking me out. I placed the prayer card into the journal and closed it.
“May I see that?”
I gave him a quizzical look before removing the card. “You mean this?”
“Yes,” he said.
“It’s just a prayer card.” I offered it to him. “There’s some writing on it. I can’t figure out what it means.”
Cadby flipped it over as he studied it. “The church on this directs to the clue you seek?”
“I think so.”
“In older times,” he said, “people would hide love letters and notes of treason in or around prayer candles. They’d write the whereabouts of such secrets on handkerchiefs and other items to pass the clue to the intended receiver. This”—he pointed out the handwriting on the backside of the card, and I followed along as he read it—“prayer candle, seventh row, three in. It’s directions to the candle in this chapel.” He handed it back to me.
“That’s clever,” I said, taking the card.
If it’s still there.
My eyes went to his. “Listen, don’t tell anyone about this, okay? I’m not sure who’s trustworthy anymore, and I have to keep Royston safe. With my luck, you’re probably on the wrong side.”
“I assure you, I am on your side, Gianna. We must think of Royston’s safety before all else.” Cadby glanced over his shoulder at the others down the hill. “But your safety matters, as well. Without you, he hasn’t a chance against the Tetrad. You have inherited a great responsibility. It’s best you stop acting on your emotions and use your head. Let others help you.”
Even though he was right, I started to protest. “I don’t act—”
His hand went up to stop me. “I don’t mean that as an insult. We all let our emotions direct us. Remove the heart so the head can think.” He turned and plodded back down the hill, not waiting for a response from me. His injured wing lay flat against his back while his good one twitched and moved as he walked. He’d broken it while saving me right before I’d crashed Nick’s motorcycle. The wing had almost healed, and he was able to do short-distance flights now.
The Tetrad. Hearing him say the name scraped at my thoughts. A high wizard back in medieval times had created the beasts by sewing animal parts to four slain warriors and connecting them with one soul. The beings were frightening and haunted my dreams. One creature resembled a lion with a cleft lip and claw-like hands. Another had a boar’s head with sharp tusks sticking out of its jaw. The third had two large ram horns coming out of its forehead, which pulled and distorted its face. And the final one was part lizard, with razor-sharp teeth and scales. Each could command one of the elements, but they could never separate from one another or they’d die. The creatures were a myth to me, yet I was key to their destruction.
All I had to do was find the seven Chiavi, which, when combined, would unlock the beast from its prison, buried in some elusive mountain somewhere in a world full of mystical creatures. Simple. I rolled my eyes before returning my attention to Gian’s journal.
CAN FIGS?
It must be a puzzle.
There were seven letters in the clue. There were seven Chiavi.
I sat up straighter.
Which meant there were seven libraries.
We had retrieved five of the keys. I wrote down the names of the libraries where we’d found them, but none of the initials matched the letters in the acronym.