Free (Skeleton Key) Into Elurien by Kate Sparkes Page A

answer. At least make sure you’re not throwing the baby out with the bathwater.”
    Zinian’s brow furrowed. “Excuse me?”
    “I mean…” I shrugged. It seemed my ability to speak and understand their language didn’t extend to idioms. “Maybe a lot of what’s there in those books is bad. But maybe there’s some knowledge that should be salvaged. And maybe it’s better not to forget where the humans went so wrong. If we—if you, I mean, could learn how they thought, what they believed, how they became the horrible creatures they were, it would benefit your new society so much.”
    “We won’t repeat their mistakes,” Jaid growled. “We’re nothing like you.”
    I forced myself to look at her without flinching. “Then let it be a monument to their foolishness. Build your new city in the remains of the old, and let the library stand as a reminder of what you overcame.”
    “She has nothing to do with any of this,” Jaid reminded Zinian.
    “I know,” Zinian said, but one corner of his mouth had turned up slightly as I spoke. His reaction pleased me, and I told myself it was only because it gave me hope for the library. “But that doesn’t mean she’s wrong. What if Verelle found a way back? What if another enemy rose some day? We’d be better prepared to fight if we had this knowledge.”
    Jaid’s ears lay flat against the smooth curves of her skull. “This is insanity.”
    “No. It might be the first sane idea we’ve heard in days, since the destruction and killing began. I’ll speak to Grys.”
    Jaid’s lip lifted in a snarl. “Fine. But be sure to discuss the punishment for a human’s insubordination when meddling in the affairs of monsters. We need to set a proper precedent.”
    Zinian nodded without looking at me and returned to the meeting room with Jaid close behind.
    “What does that mean?” I asked Auphel. “Punishment?”
    She didn’t answer.
    “Auphel, I’m sorry. I didn’t think about this getting you in trouble. I shouldn’t have run, but you see why this is important, don’t you?”
    She let out a heavy sigh. “I don’t know. I’d just as soon see the books gone, myself, but Zinian seems to understand.” She twirled the hem of her shirt around her fingers. “I thought we were going to be friends, you and me.”
    “I want that, too. Would it help if I promised not to run from you again?”
    She nodded, but I supposed I had a lot of work to do if I wanted to regain her trust. I hoped Zinian would be persuasive, that I hadn’t just hurt Auphel and pissed Jaid off for nothing.
    We walked back to Verelle’s rooms.
    “Auphel, what did Jaid mean about punishment?”
    She shrugged. “When humans kept us as servants and slaves, we weren’t allowed to talk back or have ideas unless they asked us something—and then our ideas became their ideas. If you didn’t follow the rules, you were beaten. Or killed, if you weren’t useful enough. Guess things are flipped upside down now.”
    “I’m not a servant or a slave,” I said quietly.
    “You’re a human, and it’s not your world. Why do you think I tried so hard to stop you when you ran?”
    My stomach clenched. Speaking up and risking confrontation had been terrifying, but it had seemed worthwhile. I remembered the massive axe that Auphel had wielded the night we met, and a chill came over me.
    This is why I never stick my neck out, I thought. You never know when it’s going to end with losing your head.

Chapter Eight
    A uphel came out of the pantry covered in flour. She sneezed, sending a cloud of white dust into the air. “Is this enough?”
    “Should be. Enough to give it a try, anyway.”
    She’d agreed to take me to the palace kitchens that afternoon to find my own meal. In spite of my current anxiety over my future, my stomach kept insisting it needed to be fed. The squashed tomatoes Auphel brought me weren’t keeping me full, and I suspected I should keep my strength up.
    The kitchens were better