The City of Crows by Bethany Lovejoy (great books to read .txt) 📕

way, I almost feel bad for that. If I had kept my mouth shut, things might have gone differently. But of course, I defied nature, and therefore, this is my punishment.”

“So, you told him?” I accused.

“Well, I didn’t know, did I?” Rowan spat, ushering me through the door his hands on the small of my back. “Lydia doesn’t exactly publish her wrong doings, and I doubt many people have so much as heard your name. No, it was a clear mistake, one that, for your information, I do regret. Had I known what it would lead to, the trouble it would cause me, and the things that I would inevitably lose; I might have declared it far better to remain a smalltime crook and nothing more.” He sighed, hands dipped into his pocket as he lamented, “and it’s not like I didn’t try to warn you several times, but that god damn cat—”

“Yvie,” I breathed.

“Her,” Rowan’s tone dripped with malice. “She’s been hunting down crows, killing them for sport. You might have seen one or two of them, people with scars and broken limbs. She’s ruthless, and I think she even knows it.” He narrowed his eyes, admitting, “of course I don’t much like her very much when she’s human to begin with, much too loud and way too independent. Seeing her at that party was a god damn nightmare.”

“You call her ruthless,” I began, “but look at Landon, look at what you did to your own cousin!”

Rowan turned, his mouth agape in astonishment as a single finger rose. For a moment, it seemed like he was incapable of speech, but then, slowly, a sound began to form. Strangled, just low enough that I could barely hear, he said, “Do you think that I’m the only one who has sold their soul away? Do you think I’d kill him? Lyra, I may have roughed him up a bit, but that wasn’t me. I grew up with him, he was one of my closest friends for the longest time.”

“What do you mean—”

“God, he barely told me anything—”

“What are you saying—”

“I just wish that he had opened his eyes and realized—”

Auburn hair, dark red lips, a mustard yellow turtleneck tucked into a high waisted skirt. That was what we saw when we turned the corner, a voice drawled, in a soft, yet heavily accented voice, “you’re late.” God help me.

Autumn.

Or was it? I couldn’t tell. Maybe that was what made her more dangerous, made the world seem more awful. You know someone, you think you really do, but then they’re not the person you thought. They’re someone else, wearing their face like a mask, waiting in the corner to take you as well. Autumn, she was supposed to be sweet, she was supposed to be kind, bubbly and emptyheaded but not this. Not… Oh god, not a murderer.

How long? Since the Greenman I supposed. That’s why she was insistent, that’s why she dragged us over to Landon. She had to confirm that it was Leo, saying his name wrong was so no one realized that she’d said it over and over again. She pressured Landon to tell us more, was that her or him? Was it really Autumn playing us or someone else? Lurking around the Lobdels, looking tearful; was that just so someone would offer to help her find him? Of course, she saw him enter the closet, of course she called the goons; she was the only person keeping her eyes peeled for him. It wasn’t that Landon had told us where to find the crossroads, no, that wasn’t the whole of it. It was that, after she’d used him up and gotten him to tell us all that we needed, he had the nerve to call Rowan and let him know. That’s why Rowan showed up, that’s why Rowan tried to stop me.

Autumn was a part of this the whole time, and Rowan was futilely attempting to fix it.

“Oh Lyra, he has been asking for you,” she breathed, that same, happy, carefree tone in her voice. It wasn’t anyone else, it was her all along. “The guest of honor, the crown jewel. I’m so happy that we’re going to experience this together, aren’t you?” She turned to Rowan, beaming, a sickly air to her words, “Aren’t you glad, Rowan? Lyra’s finally back.”

Rowan’s jaw tightened, his eyes averting hers as she reached forward, sharpened nails clutching my skin, poking through the gaps in the yarn. She began to walk, dragging me with, not moving in the same direction Rowan was, rather approaching the east wing. He’d led me to the building, but he had been leading me away.

“Leo’s going to be so happy to see you,” Autumn grinned.

25

An Exciting Disappointment

Salt. That was the first word that came to mind, the first thing that assaulted my senses, coating the air so thick that I could taste it. It soaked the moisture from the air, serving to amplify the magic at play. There was no apparent source of it, not one that I could see, but it was everywhere. Down the hall, in the east side chamber, coating the ground grinding beneath our feet; it was inescapable. It lingered in the air, coated the fixtures, and clung to my skin. Nowhere could I turn my head without the flavor, a dryness overcoming my tongue and only getting worse as Autumn opened the door in front of me, pushing me in so that I stumbled forward.

I only caught the slightest glimpse of the plaque on the wall before stumbling to the ground, grimacing at the word reflected in gold lettering. The Heritage Room, how fitting, it was nice to know that irony was not lost on those who dwelled in hell.

I suppose this was where, if there ever were to be an event celebrating witches, it would be held. Yet another place to remember those who fell, to realize that New Haven was built on the ashes of witches. It only