For the first time since meeting him, Kestrel saw Barnabus light up with excitement. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
“And that’show the Maw of Death was created,” Barnabus concluded, the book only halfway through.
Kestrel had so many questions, it was difficult to decide which one to ask first. She bit her lip as she considered her options.
“But if the Maw of Death was created by a meteor shower?—”
“Technically it was just one meteor, not an entire shower ofthem,” he corrected, but Kestrel continued as if he hadn’t said anything.
“What’s at the bottom of it? Or how did it get there because…there’s definitely something sinister down there. But I don’t think it’s like the other cursed monsters, at least not like the ones I’ve met.”
His cyan eyes glinted with intrigue, and something like skepticism. “You encountered the creature in the Maw?”
Kestrel nodded and he looked like his mind had just exploded. Hastily, he pulled a scroll of parchment from a pocket in his vest. There was already an ink well and pen on the table, so he dabbed the pen into it and began scribbling.
“If that’s true, you might be the only person in history to have ever survived such an interaction.”
“Really?”
Nodding, he blew on his scroll, trying to help the ink dry. With one hand holding the parchment open, Barnabus used the other to flip to the next page in the book. He pointed at another passage. “At the time this book was written, it was still unknown what dangers lurked in the bottom of the Maw of Death. After facing so much tragedy, some people speculated that the place was cursed. Others believe that it is haunted by the very souls lost to the meteor on the Day the Land, Sky, and Sea Shook. However, in recent years, many Vallondeans have speculated there is something wicked in the air near the Maw, and they have been known to avoid wandering too near it, at all costs.”
It wasn’t surprising to hear. If Kestrel had known any better, she would’ve done the same, just to ensure that slippery voice wouldn’t have slithered into her mind.
“What did you see there?”
The question immediately evoked memories that sent a shiver up Kestrel’s spine. “Not much. These thick, oily tentaclesreached out of the chasm for me. It spoke to me as if it was someone I knew, and…I think it lured me closer. I felt like I was under a spell, but only after I snapped out of it.”
“Fascinating,” Barnabus said as he continued scribbling on his scroll.
It wasn’t the word she would use to describe it, but she supposed if she was the only person to have survived such an ordeal, any additional information they had about the creature would be intriguing, especially to someone like Barnabus who she was already beginning to understand was a devout scholar.
“How did you break its trance?”
“I didn’t,” she answered honestly. “A fox came and distracted it long enough for me to regain my composure. Then I ran.”
Barnabus actually looked disappointed, as if he had been hoping the answer was more interesting. But Kestrel couldn’t be offended, she was too busy thinking about that fox again, her savior. Every day since Micah had taken it away, she wondered how it was faring and whether it thought about her as well. She was certain it did, especially since the princes seemed to be convinced it was more than just a fox. An Animali, they had called it—whatever that was.
Perhaps now, in the midst of a mentor, was her chance to find out.
“I’m sorry if this is skipping around in Grimtol’s history a bit, but what do you know about the Animali? Leighton mentioned that they couldn’t be trusted, but I don’t even know who or what they are.”
Surprising her, Barnabus lit up. “Actually, that’s a wonderful segue, because the next of the catastrophes from the Day the Land, Sky, and Sea Shook were the Xiran floods.” Barnabus skipped ahead to the next chapter, skipping past a giant illustration of the Maw that chilled Kestrel to the bone,and landing on a new section titledFlooding in Caelora. Noticing her confusion, he supplied, “Xira used to be part of Caelora. They became sovereign after the Cursed Night, but we’ll get to that. For now, the Animali you mentioned, they came from here.”
Barnabus shifted the book toward her and Kestrel noted the illustration on the first page. It looked like a peaceful village, separated by numerous channels of water, and even though it separated parts of the village from others, it didn’t seem to hinder the people. They used canoes and rafts to travel in between the floating islands, some carrying goods to sell, others offering to ferry one another around.
Then he flipped to the next page.
The center of the village was entirely flooded. Bodies floated, face down, in the green waters, while others sank into the depths. The ones below the water’s surface though were different than before. The people on the first page had just been that: people. But the ones here had grown gills. Others appeared to be growing fins or wings or scales.
“Yet another one of Grimtol’s greatest mysteries: why some of the people caught in the floods miraculously gained the ability to shift into an animal,” Barnabus said, sounding in awe himself.
“Those are the Animali then? People who can turn into animals?” Kestrel couldn’t tear her eyes away from one of the illustrated figures in particular. He was the most animalistic, almost his entire human form replaced with the sleek body of some underwater creature. Some of the non-swimming animals clung to his giant fins, and he seemed to be carrying them up to the surface. Seemed to be saving them from their watery demise. “Why doesn’t your brother trust them?”
Before answering, Barnabus glanced around the room, as if someone could be listening in, even though they’d been entirelyalone for hours ever since Marion had brought them a mid-session snack.
“Not just Leighton,” he whispered. “Many in Grimtol, but especially those in Irongate and Caelora, or anywhere that has a history of being anti-magic.”
Kestrel’s skin tingled. “Anti-magic? But…”
