It was the spider-thin prickle crawling across her shoulder blades. And Evangeline had never been frightened.īut it wasn’t actually the dark or the night that she feared. Before losing her parents, she had constellation-watched with her father and listened to her mother tell stories by candlelight. Dark was for stars and dreams and the magic that took place in between days. Evangeline had never been afraid of the dark before. She fidgeted nervously, and the lantern flickered. Her lantern’s ocher glow chased the nearby shadows away, but the bulk of Wolf Hall’s royal library stacks were nebulous with night. With one drop of her willing blood, she could undo any lock.įirst, she needed to be sure she wasn’t being watched or followed or stalked by that deceitful, apple-eating scoundrel whose name she wouldn’t even think.Įvangeline checked behind her shoulder. She was also rather good at opening doors. She had pulled and tugged and twisted the iron knob, but the door would not budge. There is a wolf’s head wearing a crown emblazoned on the door’s wooden center, and people have sworn the wolf smirks at their failed attempts, or bares its sharp teeth if a person even comes close to opening this unopenable door.Įvangeline Fox had once tried. But no one has so much as left a scratch on this stubborn door. People have tried to set it on fire, break it with axes, and pick its lock with magic keys. There is a door deep inside the royal library of Wolf Hall that no one has opened for centuries.
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