9 • LARICE

As for what Larice Whitewind had known, Erlind’s shift would end at sundown. So she hid and waited behind one of the granite pillars outside of the Acadrim building—the one closest to Librad.

Leaning her back on the pillar, Larice studied Gray Viper, which she’d gotten from Riqui, and then frowned. She got nothing from her parents, as the fire had taken everything from their house. Sometimes, she tried to remember any pieces of memory she had from her childhood life … but her trauma of seeing her parents burned alive had kept her from it.

Because of that, she wanted to remove the fear that’d been corrupting her heart and mind.

She believed that if she would discover the truth, she’d finally learn to accept what happened and move on.

The fear would fade away … and she would be free.

A few moments after sundown, Larice caught old Erlind walking out of Librad with piles of parchments and folders in her arms.

She sheathed back her rapier and waited. The old keeper guy must be already inside, as she’d seen him pass by and enter the building earlier.

With the ground clear, she sneaked into the building as swiftly as possible. Good thing she wore the black hood of her wool coat, otherwise the guards above the walls and towers might recognize her hair.

Larice tiptoed through the hall entrance and then leaned her head to search for the old keeper. Upon the front desk, piles of leather-bound books rested, covering the sight of the old man—but she could see his wrinkled hand with a quill, writing on the parchment.

In quick succession, she crawled beneath the tables and slipped into the towering shelves unnoticed. Librad contained over twenty red-oak book stacks, all aligned in columns and rows, and also surrounded by an entire wall of shelves.

Through the narrow space above one section of books, Larice spied the Persian-red door behind the old keeper. She needed to lure the man away from the desk for a short while, so she could head for the door without being spotted.

All of a sudden, a silent laugh hissed from the back row of the shelves. Larice froze in panic as the whispering voices of men grew closer and louder.

“I’ll break your faces if you two won’t shut up …”

Larice recognized the voice—Barded.

“Can’t believe that girl froze your ass off …”

“She’s not a girl—she’s a witch …”

Larice quickly snatched whatever book she could find, opened it, and lowered her head as she sensed the guys approaching her shelf.

“Did you see those dark incantations? That’s exactly what the elders have been telling us … from the other countries … they’ve been practicing it.”

“Keep it DOWN,” the old keeper called to them.

When Larice heard them emerging from her right, she turned to her left and pretended to read the book with her head down. She bit her lower lip as her heartbeat pumped faster and faster. If they recognized her, she would be dead for sure. They would expel her and take her to Sunvar, where the Dravalon Army had been searching for her these past couple of months. And if they did, they would either throw her to jail for the accident she had caused before … or lock her up inside the Monases forever.

The tapping sound of hard shoes on the ceramic floor made her swallow hard in her throat. She pulled down her hood to hide her face more.

As the three guys finally passed by, Larice breathed out in relief. They settled at one table after the front shelf, the three of them. Barded dressed himself in thick coats and jackets, his skin and lips still pale from what had happened earlier.

Larice never wasted a second. She traveled through the shelves like a shadow, heading towards the back row.

Reaching the most cornered area of Librad, she looked up. She had to take down this last, tall shelf to make a distraction—knowing the space between the wall shelf and the bookshelf was narrow enough for her to climb up. She rubbed her hands together and grabbed whatever she could hold on to.

Then she ascended.

After a few seconds of climbing and her foot accidentally mistook a step.

She slipped her shoe on a book … and then lost her balance on the other one …

Good thing her grip from both shelves had kept her body barely hanging … but the book fell and created a thumping sound.

Larice winced, holding her breath. She tried to wait for them to come, but it seemed like they didn’t hear—so she continued her climb.

As she reached the middle height of the bookshelf, she turned, leaned her back on it, and placed her feet against the wall shelf. Then she pushed back. The tall shelf swayed … and swayed … and swayed … with the sound of creaking wood. It wasn’t that hard for her, so she managed to let the bookshelf fall on the opposite side before she jumped and landed on the floor.

The bookshelf slowly fell and hit against the one next to it, then to the next, and then to the next like dominoes—until all the shelves at the back row crashed down. Stacks of heavy books rained to the floor; loud and hard, instantly breaking the silence of Librad.

“Bloody hell!” the old keeper’s voice followed the crash.

Larice rushed towards the front shelf and waited for him to leave his desk.

The old man stood and put down his glasses, leaving his wide, pale eyes in shock. Then he strode towards the back, with Barded and the others following to see what had happened.

With her path cleared out, Larice hasted for the red door.

She stole a glance back at the men while taking the bronze key out of her pocket. They still hadn’t noticed her yet, she found.

Calm as snow … clear as water … Larice reminded herself before she could even panic.

Praying that she got the right key, she inserted it into the lock hole.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath—then she twisted it.

It unlocked.

Larice exhaled in relief as she opened the red door, sneaked through inside, and locked it back.

The silence of air deafened her ears, and the scent of books stuffed her nose. When she turned around, only a dim passageway welcomed her.

Larice had to take deep breaths in and out before walking over the beige carpet.

The end of the hall revealed a staircase that led the way to the lower level. She could already glimpse the brightness from below as she began her descent.

After arriving at the end of the stairs, she found herself entering a chamber narrower than Librad. But the dark walls soared into a higher ceiling along with taller shelves. All the leather-bound books had been sorted and color-coded based on their specific periods of time.

“An archive?” Larice asked herself. So this was what Ardrad had contained?

Wasting no second, she rushed into the sections and searched for any clues of her village. She went straight for the period from ten years ago when the attack happened.

It took her a couple of minutes of following each time-labeled book … until she found the exact year. She pulled out the white-coded book and opened it.

It contained records of dragon razes and attacks, which were all divided by places where the hunters had spotted or slain the beasts in that year—not only villages and towns here in the Drava but also from the other countries.

“Winterrun … Winterrun Village …” She muttered as she slid her finger on the first page, containing the list of specific places. In every second that passed, she grew excited, and at the same time, nervous. “Winterrun Vill—“

“WHO goes there?” the sudden voice of the old keeper had stopped Larice.

“Dammit.” She winced, closing the book.

She crouched and tried to pull herself back together; the next she crawled on the floor, passing through shelf after shelf. She could hear her blood pulsating fast by her pounding heart as if it would explode any second now.

“I saw the red door shut close earlier. SHOW yourself!” the old man said.

Larice stopped after reaching far enough, opened the book, and searched again. Sweat dripping onto the yellowed pages, she scanned faster with the words scrambling in her head.

Seconds after and she thought she read a familiar word … so she went back …

And then she gasped.

“Glacia!” Her eyes widened as she found it on the list of contents. She quickly flipped through the pages until she arrived at the exact place in the exact year.

“Winterrun Village … was found burning …” she mumbled in a whisper, reading as fast as she could. “Dragon had not been found?” her eyebrows rose. “A dragon with multiple heads had been caught in sight on the same day—”

“Surrender NOW! The Archon Hunters will come and catch you soon,” the old keeper called out.

Larice couldn’t read all of it, so she ripped the page off the book, folded it, and dug it in her black boots. She was about to stand up when—

“HALT!”

Larice flinched. Then she turned around, meeting eyes with the old keeper behind her.

His angry face shifted into confusion. “You … you again?” he pointed at her.

“Hello again.” She smiled nervously, dropping the book on the floor.

“What happened here?” A dark, familiar voice thundered from the entrance of Ardrad.

Larice muttered a curse as she saw who it was. This was indeed the end …

“Whitewind!” Quarth’s face flushed the moment he saw her. “What is the meaning of THIS?”

***

Later that night, everyone’s eyes watched Larice as she headed back to her bedchamber in Dormin. Words had spread rapidly across Shavath, thanks to that stupid Barded and his friends.

“PACK all your things! You WILL leave for Monases at the break of dawn. And starting on the morrow, you are banished! Banished from Shavath for the rest of your life.”

Quarth’s raging voice kept on flooding her head again and again. This would be the end of her journey; locked up with the old women in Monases and weave fabric until she dies of age.

“Such a disgrace to Shavath,” one hunter said as she passed by.

“Why did she come here in the first place?” another hunter said. “Look at her. She’ll never be accepted by what she is.”

Larice held back her feelings in front of everyone—until she reached her bedchamber, jumped in her bed, and finally released all the pain and tears out. Was this the cost of the clue she’d been dying to find out? If it was, then why did she feel like it’s not enough? She thought knowing the truth would finally pull out that thorn from her heart … but it didn’t end up the way she had expected. There were so many questions still unanswered. And now, she got no more chance left to find it. That was it. That was her last chance.

Larice took the tiny bag of pearls from her necklace beneath the pillow, then she pressed it on her heart. “I’m tired … Riqui …” She sobbed in a silent voice—eyes shut close with tears tickling her cheeks. “I’m so tired … I … I tried … but I failed you …”

On the morrow, all the years of training with her mentor would end up getting wasted. They wouldn’t allow her to have any weapons or even go out of the Monases.

“I’m sorry …” Larice cried harder as her hand found Gray Viper. The hilt was cold. Was it disappointed with her too? She had sworn to herself that she would find the dragon who’d taken everything from her. Despite her fear and trauma in fire … she still promised.

Larice pulled the stolen page out of her hunter’s boot and unfolded it. The one who razed her village was no ordinary dragon, she found out. She had read before about multiple-headed dragons, those who ruled over all those beasts.

There must be a reason an all-powerful beast would burn her village and her parents alive.

If the dragon was still alive, she wanted to find it—and the truth of why that merciless beast did it. But it’s all too late for that now. She couldn’t do anything anymore …

Or could she?

“Slay the dragon …”

The last words of Riqui echoed inside her mind.

Larice sat up in her bed and wiped her tears. “No …” She shook her head. She could never go north.

The north of Shavath was where the dragons had roamed to burn and kill any living in their sight. It’s too dangerous. Larice couldn’t afford to expose herself to those fire-breathing beasts.

But she found a choice—another path aside from the Monases where she would suffer forever.

“Slay the dragon …” Riqui spoke again in her mind.

Larice studied her hands for a long time—then she rolled them into fists. As for his last words, Riqui wanted her to slay the dragon. Even though he knew about her greatest fear, he still believed she could do it. But he’s already gone. So she had to believe in her own self now.

Larice unsheathed her Gray Viper and saw her reflection on the long, narrow blade. It all took one big breath before she finally decided.

She could do it.

She would rather die from a dragon’s fire than die of age inside of Monases.

No one could control her life—only her.

She would find it.

She would slay the dragon.