walls, looking for weaknesses, but they were all solid stone.
Sighing, I crossed into the bathroom. As I sat on the porcelain toilet for a quick bathroom break, I looked around the moonlit room. It was magnificent: white marble floors, a giant tub. After peeing, I played around with the faucets, turning them on and off to wash my hands. Was this how the tub worked, too?
I turned to look at it. Held up on brass claws, it was nearly big enough for me to sleep in. Fascinated, I crossed to it and turned it on with my good hand.
Piping-hot water started gushing into the tub. Steam rose invitingly. Prisoner or not, I was not going to pass up the chance for a hot bath. Not after the freezing night I’d endured.
I slipped out of my clothes, wincing as I peeled off my socks. My toes were bright red; the beginnings of frostbite had set in.
It hurt at first, the hot water thawing parts of me I hadn’t known were frozen, but soon, I was melting into the steaming liquid. I let out a long, slow shigh. I was in prison, yes. But I was imprisoned in Asgard, the city of the gods.
The heat of the water made my toes sting, but it was good for them. One inch at a time, my body was returning to normal.
I must have drifted off, because a noise made me start—a soft gasp of air that raised the hair on my neck in primal fear. Even as I raised my head, I knew who it was.
Marroc stood in the doorway, ramrod straight, a thick miasma of smoke billowing around him like a shroud. His eyes fixed on me—not blue this time, but a deep, smoldering amber, like fire blazed within him. He wanted my soul, yes, but that wasn’t all he wanted. I felt his dark magic tremble over my bare skin, warm and powerful, leaving tingling sensations all over me.
“Do you mind?” I shouted.
He ripped his gaze away from me with what looked like considerable effort. Then his body seemed to relax.
But he didn’t move from the doorway. Instead, he slowly held a note up in front of his face. In black ink, he’d written three words:
Come with me.
Chapter 18
Ali
With Marroc waiting outside, I toweled off, then dressed in my black leather pants and long-sleeved T-shirt.
I couldn’t bring myself to put on the icy socks again, so I padded out of the bathroom barefoot. And it seemed Marroc had anticipated my needs, because he’d left out a pair of warm woolen socks for me, along with women’s black boots. Only one size too big. I wondered whose they were.
Hugging myself, I crossed into the hall, where Marroc was waiting with my coat. He leaned against the wall, looking totally casual, like he hadn’t just walked in on me naked.
No longer dressed in tattered rags, he wore a gray cotton shirt, a pair of black pants, and a black jacket with fur trim. In one hand, he held a small notebook. He beckoned to me, then began to walk down the hall.
I followed at a distance, keeping a good fifteen feet between us. We passed through the entrance hall with the blazing fireplace. Then he led me to a stairwell, and we descended into a musty basement. Soon, we were moving deeper, into old stone tunnels.
At last, Marroc stopped in front of a giant pair of doors. Deeply inlaid with runes and curling lettering, they had clearly been constructed with powerful magic. The doors had no handles, but when Marroc placed his hand on one, it slowly creaked open. He disappeared into a dark interior, and I followed him inside.
As I did, I was grateful for the coat and boots; it was cold as winter in here. Pitch black, too. I was just switching over to night vision when a flame bloomed in the darkness. Marroc slowly lit a candelabrum, and the candles illuminated a room much larger than I’d expected.
Of the four walls, three were encased by ancient mahogany bookshelves, while the fourth was entirely occupied by a massive stone hearth. The floor was bedrock, but much of it was covered with thick Persian carpets. The interior was divided roughly in half with an oak table close to the hearth and a leather couch facing the bookshelves. With the candles lit, it was a cozy place.
I walked to the nearest bookshelf, and my breath caught with excitement. The books were very old, all