that Gaige was the only one.
“It’s a long story for another time.” His smile turned sad.
Kost set his book down and peered at the floating text surrounding the image of the mare. “An A-Class beast?”
“Yes, but not because they’re dangerous.” I suppose Kost would be surprised that something so docile would be ranked so high. But rankings took several factors into consideration: power, rarity, magical ability, limitations, danger. The Council was responsible for assigning ranks as a means of keeping untrained Charmers from attempting to tame a creature beyond their capabilities. If a new beast were to appear, the Council would debate for weeks, maybe even months, before announcing a rank. Once it was announced, they’d hold a ritual before the statue of Celeste in Hireath, relying on the goddess’s magic to alter all Charmers’ bestiaries. That way, if anyone ever encountered the new creature and tamed it, the information would appear without fault.
But a new beast hadn’t appeared in decades. There was no way we’d discovered them all—the world was too vast. We were just too reclusive. Only a handful of Charmers ever left Lendria for fear of being too far from Hireath.
Gaige nodded as he studied Kost’s profile. “Zavallunas are incredibly rare, supposedly residing somewhere in the mages’ lands. They’re not exactly a welcoming bunch, as you experienced earlier.”
Kost pressed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “What can she do?”
“She amplifies the powers of other beasts. Her horn emits magical energy that flows in a small radius around her. If another beast is nearby, they’ll be able to do incredible things.” Gaige studied the mirage of his creature. “Though it’s an exhaustive talent. If she uses it for too long or too frequently, it can do irreparable damage to her horn.”
“Some say the first Crown rode one into battle against the Wilheimians and the First King. Her power would’ve been otherworldly.” I closed his bestiary and stood, stretching my hands to the ceiling.
“Indeed.” Gaige leaned across the table and snatched A Brief History of Wilheim.
I returned the bestiary to him. “Unfortunately, she has little to offer in the ways of removing a curse.”
Gaige grimaced. “I know.” Something told me he’d known all along I wouldn’t find what I needed, but the gesture wasn’t lost on me. Maybe I could trust that brain of his. Maybe he really was here to help. It was hard to know who to put my faith in when so many had turned on me before, but everything about this latest kindness seemed genuine.
And yet, as kind as that gesture had been, I was still without answers.
As if hearing my thoughts, he cleared his throat. “You might consider joining the Council. The others might be inclined to share their bestiaries or know of a solution.”
And just like that, my body stiffened. Learning to trust Gaige would be hard enough. And while it was easy to believe Yazmin, Crown of the Council, was on my side—given she’d pardoned my past offenses—there was no telling who Wynn had won over. Accepting Yazmin’s offer would put me in close proximity with the very person who was trying to kill me.
But there’s no telling what I could learn, either.
“If we can’t find answers…” I swept my gaze over the endless stacks of books. “Maybe. But for now, I’m going to stretch my legs.” Waving over my shoulder, I hid my frustration by slipping into the maze of shelves. The soft snap of a burning log was the only sound, and I let my fingers wander along bindings as I walked. Night peeked through the bay window, and thousands of stars winked against the dark expanse.
The dawn of the next full moon would mark the Winter Crest. As a Charmer, we never participated in Wilheimian traditions, but I’d learned of this one during my time living above Midnight Jester. Even black-market workers would put aside their jobs for the occasion, celebrating in their own way with too many ales and stories about balls and dancing.
Climbing the rungs of a ladder propped against a shelf, I peered out into the vast darkness. It was impossible to see Wilheim with Cruor tucked safely in the thicket of Kitska Forest, but I didn’t need a glittering castle of marble and diamond. I’d rather a celebration with family who refused to turn their backs on me. Noc to hold me when the first frost dusted the grass beneath our feet—something Charmers did celebrate.
“What are you doing up there?” Noc leaned against