The Faceless Woman Emma Hamm (ebook reader screen TXT) 📖

dying creatures that fluttered their wings as she passed by. She stepped through them carefully. Now she understood Bran’s hesitation. A tunnel system deep underneath the earth filled with books wasn’t precisely normal.

The tunnel mouth opened up into a room. Aisling pressed her back against the corner and peered around the edge, then gaped at what she saw.

They had made a labyrinth of the shelves. Walls made out of books and hammered wood stretched so high above her head that they were eventually obscured by mist. Thousands upon thousands of books haphazardly thrown onto shelves filled her vision until she was overwhelmed. They spilled out onto the floor, pages open, water-stained, and torn.

There was no care shown for the books, but what did it matter when their number rivaled that of the heavens? She pressed a hand against her chest and stepped forward into the Unseelie library.

She was but a speck, a small figure standing next to monoliths created of the written word. Aisling meandered through them and let her fingers dance along the spines.

The stone floor was smooth. Many feet had walked the same steps as she, each taking their time to find the perfect volume that would answer their question or fill their mind with worlds untold.

Her foot stepped on a swath of pages that covered the floor, ripped from a book and littered across the floor like fallen leaves.

Sudden silence made her freeze. Aisling hadn’t been aware of the natural sound of the room. Dripping water, the rush of bat wings, the faint whine of wind, it all stopped the moment she made a sound loud enough to echo.

A high-pitched screech came from directly above Aisling. She tried to still even her breathing until she didn’t make a sound at all.

Something crawled above her. The shelves creaked with some weight that toppled a few books to the ground. She didn’t dare look up, but quickly found she wouldn’t need to. Whatever had heard her, was coming down.

Fabric rustled above her, and a body dropped down to land two steps before Aisling.

The creature was covered in white fabric that floated around it as if it were in water. Strands of white hair fluttered in the air as it moved. Its head jerked back and forth, pointed ears twitching as it listened for yet another movement.

Aisling slowly reached up and covered her mouth. Its eyes were gone, just gaping holes in its pale, white face.

She realized it was female. Its body was vaguely feminine, but Aisling was loathe to consider it anything other than a creature. Stick-like arms arched out from its sides, fingers twitching.

Strands of glistening web were anchored to the creature’s back. She nearly cried out when she saw the rusted metal hooked through its skin. Dried blood scabbed at the edges of the wound, but it did not seem to bother the creature.

It twitched again, shifting and shuddering until it reached up and tugged on the webbing. The gossamer strands pulled, and the creature was yanked back toward the ceiling.

Aisling slowly dropped her shaking hand.

What was that? One of Bran’s sisters? Surely not. It didn’t look like him at all, but he had said…

She took another step forward, forgetting the paper strewn about the floor. The crunch echoed, and an answering scream made her shake in fear.

A body flew out of the shadows, catching her around the waist and pulling her back. The creature returned, blades in its hands and mouth gaping wide in a silent scream. It landed on the ground and crouched. Its head tilted to the side, waiting for the next sound that certainly would come.

The hand pressed against her mouth was familiar. Taloned nails held her cheeks, a broad chest quaking as he held his breath along with her.

Bran’s sister let out a low, vibrating croak. It filled the air with a scent of magic that burned her nostrils and filled her lungs with the painful need to cough. Her chest rocked forward. His hands clenched on her ribs and around her mouth. They stayed silent until the creature tucked her twin blades back beneath the folds of her skirt and tugged on the webbing again.

She lifted into the air, and Aisling let out the breath she had been holding in a slow wheeze.

Lips touched her ear, so close that the hair in front of her face didn’t even stir. “That was one of my sisters.”

Aisling nodded in response. She couldn’t quite bring herself to make any sound just yet.

“Silently, avoid the papers. They drop them from the ceiling so they can hear people walk.”

She’d figured that. The papers were each hand painted, words scrolling along the sides in such beautiful script that it made her eyes water. How could anyone toss aside such incredible pieces of artwork?

Bran reached back and held out a hand for her to take. A river of pages stretched out in front of them so wide she would never be able to step over them. Furrowing her brow, she took his hand without hesitation. She didn’t know what he was going to do, but she knew he would do it well.

He curled his fingers around her hand, slipped his other at her elbow, and then tossed her across the papers like she weighed little more than a feather. Aisling ground her teeth together for silence. Ridiculous man!

She stayed on her feet, only by luck more than skill. He leapt over the strewn-about paper and landed in a crouch beside her.

The grin he sent her way made her want to smack him. He had no way of knowing she wouldn’t have screamed!

He winked.

Aisling’s nostrils flared in anger and if her eyes could have set him on fire, she would have. Come to think of it, she knew a spell that would work wonderfully if only he would stay still long enough for her to make sure she didn’t hit the books…

“Come on,” he whispered.

Something rustled above them at the sound. She didn’t want to meet any more of