have any evidence? A motive? Ashcroft is the most powerful man in the kingdom, and his reputation is as spotless as the Queen’s linens. Everyone adores him.”
“I know he’s studying the Codex Daemonicus. Whatever’s inside it will explain his plans.”
“Sorcerers have studied the Codex for centuries and found nothing of worth.” He shook his head. “You could bring your allegations to the Collegium, to the Queen herself, and no one would believe you. Ashcroft had you declared insane. He has a diagnosis from a physician and, by the sound of it, dozens of witnesses from high society.” Elisabeth’s hands twisted the dressing gown. Nathaniel went on relentlessly, “It would be your word, a disgraced apprentice librarian’s, against the opinions of the most respected people in Austermeer.”
“But if you came with me, and told them—”
“I have nothing to tell. I could swear to your honesty for days, but the fact remains that I witnessed none of what you’ve told me firsthand. Everyone would see me lavishing attention on you, and after that debacle with the press they’d just assume that I . . .” He ran a hand through his hair again, more roughly this time.
“That you what?”
He grimaced. “A word of advice, Scrivener. Whatever Ashcroft is doing, let it go. He’s finished with you—you’re safe now. I’ll find a way to straighten out the matter with Summershall and then you can return home to your innocent country life.”
“No.” Elisabeth thrust herself up from the end of the bed. “I won’t go back until I’ve stopped him.”
Nathaniel’s face hardened. “Sometimes people die,” he bit out, “and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”
“I will save them.”
“You will join them,” he snapped.
Fury surged through Elisabeth. It swelled in her heart, crackled over her skin, fizzed up the roots of her hair. She advanced on Nathaniel until their noses almost touched. “That is better than doing nothing!” she shouted.
For a moment he made no reply. They stood glaring at each other, matched in height. His breath stirred against her face. When he finally spoke, he struggled to keep his voice level. “You’ve been attacked, violated, tormented, left on the streets to starve. The odds you face are impossible. If you continue down this path, you’ll die. Why won’t you just give up?”
She stared. Was that a thing people did—just gave up? When there was so much in the world to love, to fight for? “I cannot,” she said fiercely. “I never will.”
Nathaniel’s lips parted to deliver a retort that never came. Her gaze flicked to his mouth, and that was all it took for the air between them to change. Heat flushed her face at the realization of how close they were standing; Nathaniel’s eyes widened, his pupils dark.
He took an abrupt step back. Then he pivoted and seized the edge of the door. Recovering quickly, Elisabeth caught it before he could slam it shut between them.
“What did Silas mean, when he said you cared about me?” she challenged.
A fall of hair hid Nathaniel’s face from view, showing only the line of his jaw. “You of all people should know better than to make a habit of listening to demons.”
He was right. What would the Director think if she saw Elisabeth now, willingly accepting refuge in the house of a sorcerer and his demon? Her fingers loosened in shock. The door tugged from her grasp, but Nathaniel didn’t slam it, as she expected—it swung shut with a quiet click. As his footsteps faded, she slumped against the inside of the door and dug her knuckles against her eyes. She tried to rub the ghostly image of the Director from her mind.
It used to be so easy to tell right from wrong. Wardens followed a simple code: protect the kingdom from demonic influences, and never involve themselves in sorcery. But what was she supposed to do when the code turned against itself? Had she not accepted Silas’s help, she might have died, and any hope of unmasking Ashcroft would have been lost along with her. Surely it was her duty to seek justice, no matter the cost.
Confusion roiled within her like a sickness. Perhaps having such thoughts meant she wasn’t fit to be a warden. Even so, she refused to turn back. She needed to find a copy of the Codex. She had to find out what Ashcroft was after. And there was no better place to start than in a sorcerer’s home.
EIGHTEEN
EMERALD LIGHT SPILLED through the crack beneath the door, illuminating the