Things That Should Stay Buried - Casey L. Bond Page 0,64

another. I was starting to think that searching during the scant time I’d have alone was a useless waste of time, but in the last room at the end of another obscure hallway, a spiral staircase twisted down below the floor, into darkness. I took it down and around, careful of my steps, a shiver working its way up my spine as the light from the windows in the rooms above faded and I was left wholly in the dark.

My eyes slowly adjusted, but it didn’t help much. The sconces on the wall were dark and unlit, and there were no windows down here.

Feeling my way down the hall, I came to a set of double doors. Something was carved into them, but I couldn’t make out what the pattern was. The pads of my fingers felt each divot, every bump, along each curve. They trailed down to the cold metal handles and I pushed gently until they parted on well-oiled hinges. As the doors separated, I saw a small window across the room. Unlike the clear panes in the rooms above, this window’s panes were a glossy midnight blue.

Cool, blue light casted over the room, reminding me of the light in Aries’s tomb.

I passed a large pedestal mirror, the glass shattered so that a thousand of me stared back with wide eyes and watched as I glided through the room. There was a bed covered in black, silken sheets, a wolf pelt laid neatly across the bottom of it, its canines caught in a perpetual snarl.

This must be his bedroom.

At the sound of voices behind me, I hurried to find a spot to hide in and stumbled into a library, quickly ducking inside. My heart thundered in my ears and my palms began to sweat as Aries and Virgo entered.

My heart cracked a little.

“We can speak freely here,” he told her.

“They’re amassing,” she said bluntly.

“When will they come?”

“Aquarius said very soon.” She looked at the stained-glass window panes, her eyes lingering. “You could put a stop to this,” she noted suddenly.

“How?”

I slid around the room and crouched behind a large, wooden desk. The ceiling was painted dark blue, and on it, someone had drawn the constellations with painstaking detail. An ornate map of the stars, with bright, glittering points of light forming each Zodia. Unlike my hand-painted golden stars, it was so lifelike, I felt like I was on the balcony looking up on a clear night.

“The pledge can be broken,” she replied carefully, “but you would have to be the one to break it for it not to weaken you physically.”

“It would weaken me morally to break my word,” Aries asserted.

“Put away your pride, Aries.” Tears glittered in her eyes. “I know what it feels like to teeter on the brink of death. I would never wish the experience on you, friend.”

He let out a long breath. From the relative safety of his desk I watched him pace, his footsteps reverberating through the floor.

“Your people are necessary, Aries. You are necessary to maintain the balance. If something happened to you, the others would capture the upper hand.”

“They outnumber us already,” he argued.

“But they are not stronger.” When she walked to him and laid a hand on his arm, every muscle in my body stiffened at the sight.

He pulled away and began to pace again.

“Who is she?” Virgo asked. “Why would you pledge yourself to her?”

“My Guardian invoked his right,” he explained.

She nodded in understanding. “I see.” She paused as if collecting her thoughts. “Aquarius told me about your Guardians, and that he was the first you made. I know you trust him. But tell me – why would he ask you for such protection?”

“She is his sister,” he rasped.

“Guardians were made, not born. He has no sister,” she answered coldly. Virgo studied the room. “Blood means nothing. You know this. Beyond that, you cannot protect one and damn all, Aries.”

“You did,” he accused, anger suffusing his pink eyes.

“I knew Lager for many months before I came to love him,” she said quietly. At the sound of his name, she flinched. It was such a small movement, but one that was very telling. She still loved him. Still mourned him. Still considered herself responsible for his death.

“What does time matter?” Aries asked, his voice raising. “Time, however short or long, is not powerful enough to negate a feeling.”

Virgo went still. Her chest stopped rising and falling. She opened her mouth, then closed it again. Finally, she breathed. “You care