The Mosaic

Chapter 52 | Of Monsters and Men

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The sound of silence was a deafening one.

The absence of screams should have comforted Laelia. Screams meant torture and that thought had Laelia's heart hammering against her ribs so hard she thought they would break. But now that they had reached the door and there was nothing but grave silence, her heart froze to a dead lump in her chest.

Screams at least would have meant Marius was still alive. That there was something left to scream. Something left to save.

A gate loomed over them, its pointed arch almost touching the ceiling. The gleaming ebony doors were carved to resemble two actual wings, the long feathers at the ends overlapping and intersecting, locking them out. Laelia expected them to stretch open, revealing an ancient raven with yellow-glowing eyes, screeching at the intruders.

Amand's jaw clenched, as if he had to fight with every fiber of his being to not rip at the giant feathers with his bare hands until his fingers bled and he could wrench his way through. The servant moved and the heavy gate creaked open, groaning as if it indeed was alive, awoken from a century's slumber. Amand stormed through the second the gap was wide enough. Laelia was right on his heels, tripping over her heavy skirts.

The wings boomed shut behind them, ripping them both to a sudden halt. Unease gripped Laelia when she slowly turned, finding herself and Amand alone. The servant hadn't followed them into ... where were they?

Amand craned his neck, eyes straining to catch a glimpse of white hair, a wisp of black robes, anything. But they were trapped by rows and rows of giant shelves, rising high above them like labyrinthine walls. They were the same dark wood of the door and filled to the brim with leather-bound volumes.

The orange glow of candlelight seeped through and beneath the shelves. Someone was here. Laelia's stomach churned. Marius? Or someone else...

The smell of ink and paper and leather wrapped around her like a warm blanket. She could feel herself relax, sinking into the scent of knowledge. The scent of Antonio and his ink stained fingertips. Shaking herself, Laelia banished these thoughts.

She turned around, gaze spiraling higher and higher. The hall was three stories high and from what Laelia could see above the shelves, a perfect hexagon. A pointed cupola spanned over them, the ribs supporting it seeming to grow out of giant pillars guarding each corner of the room.

Laelia could only see their tips above the shelves blocking her view: black marble capitals, carved into leaves and flowers like ancient Corinthian columns. No... She sucked in a sharp breath.

It wasn't wine and acanthus leaves, no little wild roses. It was bouquets of poison. If Laelia squinted, she could even make out tiny berries and needles on yew branches, nestled between the leaves of poison oak and hemlock flowers. And they were all pure black, the white veins in the marble striking her as lightning cutting the night sky.

"What?" Amand pressed, at her side in an instant, "What is it?"

Laelia tried to remain calm, to battle the ice flooding her veins: "The Lady Medici's chambers."

Amand's hand settled on the heavy cross around his neck. "Then Marius..."

Laelia's hope dwindled. She had clung to the illusion that if Marius was here, not  the prison, he was safe. But the Medici didn't need risk staining their riches with his blood, carving to Marius'secrets with iron instruments, when they had their Lady to rip him apart from the inside.