*** This story contains some mild language, suspense, romance, and some frightening images and situations—13 and older, please.

In the Grip of Twilight

By:

Olivia Tannis Moore

Chapter Forty Four:

Week One, Day Two

Back to the Chamber of Knowledge

For the rest of the day, I busied myself with correspondences. I wrote a letter to Charlie, explaining how the priests were taking such good care of me—how I'd locked myself in my room and devoted myself to studies. The truth had become easy to manipulate for my own purposes.

I wrote to Renée and described the clothing boutiques I'd seen only once when we'd arrived in the dark of night. The red fabric awning flapping in the breeze was the only thing I remembered, but in my letter I filled the stores with the dresses I'd seen at the party that first night.

Then, I searched through my bags for the darkest jeans I'd packed. My shirts were all light or pastel, so I rolled up my navy parka and put it with the jeans in the corner of the suitcase. The dark clothing probably wouldn't matter with the vampires' keen sight, but I preferred not to go snooping around glowing like a beacon.

And then, I waited.

***

Demetri's visit was short. And when he left, I watched him strut down the hall, handsome without knowing it, with the black and red guard uniform molded to his tall frame. It hit me then that I was worried for his safety. There was a familiar tug of sadness, and I wondered if I was watching him leave for battle just as Isabeau had so many years ago. I was not convinced that I'd lived as Isabeau; I pitied her short life and it was hard to imagine what she'd gone through at such a young age…but to believe I was actually her might change too many things. And I'd changed too much already.

Demetri vanished down the stairwell and I turned to go back in, shutting the door on those thoughts.

Outside it was turning dusk, so I changed into the dark clothes and waited for the last remnant of light to disappear from the sky.

**

My own sight had improved greatly with Edward's venom. I navigated the old stone staircase with ease and surprised myself by remembering just what door led to the dimly-lit antechamber. From there, I slid down the curving banister—excited that I was doing it solo this time—into the darkness of the Chamber of Knowledge.

I landed a few feet in front of the mosaic angel; even in the dark its wings sparkled. I bent and touched the tip of a wing. I was more in awe of it than ever before…if the legend was true, and vampires did carry the blood of angels, so did I now.

I stood and turned in the direction of the locked bookcase. It looked as if someone had dredged it up from a dungeon. The round antiquated padlock and the thick rusting chains were grossly out of place in the modern décor of the chamber. I suppressed a shudder as I walked to it.

I lifted the padlock; it was weighty, almost solid except for the hollow keyhole that was front and center. If I could somehow pick the lock instead of destroying it, then no one would be the wiser. I pushed my hand into the pocket of my parka, feeling around for a hairpin or one of the slender barrettes I sometimes wore.

I didn't find one, but my fingers brushed something else familiar, and I brought out the filigree broach Alice had insisted I keep. I'd forgotten to take it out of my pocket. I stared at it for a moment. The needle-like pin looked just long enough to trigger the lock—if I could manage it.

I worked at the lock for what seemed like an eternity. And just when I was about to give up and admit defeat, I heard a metallic click and the ring popped open.

I let the chains fall to the floor and opened the squeaky doors of the case. The musty stench of leather and parchment enticed me. It held the promise of something forbidden and dangerous. I reached in and took the last volume of Thaddeus' work.

I had just tucked the book inside my parka when I heard the sound of a door close somewhere above me.

'

I instantly froze, listening for the sound of approaching footsteps. I grimaced; I couldn't replace the chain and lock without calling attention to my presence.

I heard the footsteps. They were slow and methodical overhead.

I turned, preparing to find somewhere to hide in the open chamber.

But then I was suddenly knocked off my feet and onto the marble floor with a force that rattled me…

***

(Tomorrow will be a short chapter—I'm spending Easter weekend with family. Thanks for reading! OTM)

*Twilighter101 (anonymous reviewer):

I wouldn't jump to those conclusions if I were you. "Considerate" reviewers mean that the FanFicnet people don't have to come and erase the foul-mouthed rants that someone posted, of which there were two. (Either you didn't know that, or you're the one who posted them.) As far as not being able to take criticism…that's laughable. I could show you reviews of my original fiction where I was flayed alive by the critics. Writing and Thick Skin are synonymous. Enough said. OTM