The Goblets Immortal by Beth Overmyer (read 50 shades of grey .TXT) 📕

there first, work his way back as quietly as he was able, checking each room through the keyhole. Opening many doors would increase the risk of making too much noise and getting caught.

He took a steadying breath and began. The room at the end of the hall, the twelfth door on this level, was full of papers, stacked from floor to ceiling. He would never sort through all of this without getting caught, so despite what he’d planned earlier, he found every paper and oilskin Pull in the room and Dismissed them all. Hopefully, by the time someone discovered them missing, Aidan and Slaíne would be long gone. Just to be certain, he felt for iron repulsions that might be concealing something. He felt none and moved on.

The next room was a guest bedroom. He doubted Dewhurst would store anything of importance in there, but just to be certain, he checked for Pulls and repulsions. There was some paper, which he Dismissed, but no repulsions.

Aidan went on like this for every room. He’d been so preoccupied with his task that he’d forgotten to pay attention to the two human Pulls on the floor below him. Alarmed, he reached out, and felt that they had retreated down to ground level.

Aidan checked on Slaíne’s Pull. A second, unfamiliar Pull was sitting or standing stationary next to hers. This would be normal, he reassured himself, seeing as the kitchen had been in a frenzied state of preparation. Besides, Slaíne seemed to have the wits to handle herself. Aidan moved on.

With care, he crept back down the servants’ staircase and made his way to the next floor. Again he met no human Pulls.

Encouraged by this, he began the process all over again, starting at the far end of the hall and working his way back. Most of the rooms were bedrooms that held little to no paper, but consistently more iron. It was the last door, the door next to the servants’ entrance that he knew to be Dewhurst’s study via a look through the keyhole.

He tried the door. It was locked. Aidan felt for iron in the lock’s innermost parts. There was none. He was about to Dismiss parts of the lock, but hesitated. If he Dismissed the parts of the lock into Nothingness, he could Summon them back, but there would be no replacing them within the mechanism. In short, Dewhurst would know that his lock had been tampered with by supernatural means. He would know an enemy was near.

Again he felt for Pulls, sensed just one below him on the next floor, but now there were three on the floor above him, the one he had quit ten minutes before. He’d better move more quickly.

Aidan closed his eyes and felt for something in Nothingness that might serve to pick the lock. Nothing. If only he had thought to purchase and Dismiss a few women’s hairpins into his cache. No time for regrets now.

Opening his eyes, Aidan felt first for iron repulsions. There was a large one, right in the middle of the room, low, perhaps below the floorboards. A safe? Aidan wondered. He wouldn’t doubt it. This had to be where the map was hidden. Aidan needed to get into that room.

Aidan went ahead and Dismissed the inside of the lock, turned the knob, and stepped inside Dewhurst’s office. It was a cluttered room, something that surprised Aidan. Papers stacked high up to the ceiling, boxes of what felt like different metals in various shapes and volumes, and a neat shelf of books, all covered in dust. “Hmm.” Aidan focused on those immediately. Dewhurst, as far as Aidan knew, was not a learned man. It was no wonder the volumes were dusty. And yet…something was off about them.

He knew he might as well do the job thoroughly, so he Dismissed all the papers in the room, excluding the pages of the books. In the back of his mind he noted that there were fewer Pulls in the kitchen downstairs. Slaíne’s Pull and the stranger’s Pull remained in the same spot.

Concentrating was taking an effort, as the powers he’d used thus far had muddied his thinking. Paper was, as objects went, not too substantial and should not cause so much mental exhaustion…when Dismissed, Summoned, or Called in small batches. He’d probably taken care of at least thirty dictionaries’ worth of paper into Nothingness. The mere suggestion of the thought put a heavy weight on Aidan’s mind, and it was with difficulty that he returned to task.

Those books were off. The first shelf, the topmost one, was covered in dust, and there were no strange Pulls coming from their pages. The second shelf was the same. But the third shelf looked cleaner than the others. Aidan glanced at the titles of the books: they were old with worn binding, their gilt letters fading into oblivion. He picked one up and turned the page. Durgo the Cunning’s Rise and Subsequent Downfall: A Historical Account. Unknowledgeable as to whom this Durgo the Cunning might be, Aidan replaced the book and again reached out with power and felt a small iron repulsion. Blinking, he ran his hand along the books until he found the source: a small iron key, which had been tucked inside the spine binding of the second-to-last book on the right.

Wasting no time, Aidan seized the key and Dismissed the rug covering the metal repulsion in the floor. He paused a moment, listening and reaching out for human Pulls. There was no one on the floor below him anymore, so he Dismissed the floorboards and found the source of the repulsions. It was a small iron safe box, about the size of Aidan’s torso. He got onto his hands and knees and tried the key, which clicked the lock open. Something in Aidan’s mind screamed, Too easy! but he ignored the warning bells and removed the oilskins inside. Several maps with the vaguest of hints scrawled in the legends. “This must be it,”