Camilla smiled tentatively. She’d rather learn what she could, right now.
“If it’s no trouble, I would love a tour.”
Sloth inclined his head.
“I am curious, though,” she said quickly, “about the column out front. The carvings were so beautiful. What do they mean?”
Sloth seemed pleased she’d noticed.
“It’s our interpretation of the Twin Pillars, although unfortunately not an exact replica.”
“I haven’t heard of them,” Camilla admitted.
“It was an ancient site dedicated to the stars and night sky, though some argue it signified the Seelie and Unseelie courts. The pillars attract lightning, and when it strikes them, they glow, and the constellations carved onto them are meant to project into the amphitheater where they sit. One pillar is said to be good, and to reflect harmony and prosperity, gifts from the old gods. The other is rumored to be evil, and to depict cataclysmic destruction, offering a warning in a sense. Or so some of the more plausible theories go. No one is really sure, of course. What we do know is that they offered the Fae a direct pathway to the mortal lands.”
“I would love to see the real ones someday, then.” Camilla could only imagine what a sight that would be. How magical it must feel to see the heavens greet the Underworld, a union that shouldn’t exist.
“Unfortunately, they’re now hidden below my brother’s circle, bound there by magic.”
“Why?” Camilla’s heart sank at the thought of the ancient site being defaced.
“The Unseelie King’s obsession with mortals grew in such a way that it endangered them and the boundaries of our world. Lennox was warned to stop his antics, but he didn’t take kindly to being commanded by a demon, no matter that my brother rules over all Underworld realms. Lennox felt that as the Unseelie King of his own island to the west, he, and his court, should not be held to the same rules. So we had to limit his access, for the good of all.”
“One person ruined it for everyone.”
“Not a person,” Sloth said gently. “It’s imperative to remember that no beings you meet in the Underworld or any of the shadow realms are human. No matter how human they appear.”
“Right, of course.”
He gave her a tight smile, then motioned ahead.
“Inside, House Sloth comprises two hundred and thirty thousand feet of shelving.”
Camilla was still considering the Pillars, but Sloth drew her attention back to him.
“Last count there were one hundred and eighty-seven thousand books, sixty-four thousand specimens, twenty thousand pieces of art, including sculptures, and nineteen hundred weapons. Each artifact is housed within the reading chamber most suited to its subject.”
Camilla couldn’t wrap her mind around those figures, but she saw he wasn’t embellishing the number. The ceilings in every direction soared at least thirty feet, and shelves with ladders utilized the entire space.
House Sloth was utterly magnificent but somehow still retained a sense of warmth and invitation, despite its size and grandeur. Perhaps it was the overstuffed chairs arranged in alcoves throughout, or the large oak beams, weathered from age, decorating the vaulted ceilings. In any case, a part of her wished to immediately curl up with a book and lose all track of time.
There wasn’t a hint of pride or ego in Sloth’s tone as he tallied his collection, she noted; he spoke as if only doling out facts.
“I cannot begin to imagine how many years it’s taken to curate such an extensive collection,” she said at last.
“Too many, I’m sure, but such is the burden of my sin.”
He nodded toward the wing in front of them. Above it a carved plaque read SCIENTIA.
“Each wing of the estate is broken down into sections like this one. Every book in this wing relates to science; different rooms within that wing are dedicated to different subsects. Flora, fauna, anatomy, astronomy, archaeology, and so forth. Then there are history, geography, art—and within that wing it’s broken into illustrations, oils, time periods, and artists, or even, for fun, ‘the art of seduction’ or ‘flirtation’ or ‘culinary arts’—and then there are the poems, plays, fiction, and of course tomes sorted by species. Fae, vampire, werewolf, demon, witch, goddess, mortals, halflings, changelings, shape-shifters, and so on. There are also birth records for the supernatural royalty throughout the ages, and sections dedicated to the occult. Spells, curses, hexes, enchantments, alchemy, riddles, puzzles and games.”
Camilla’s heart felt as if it were about to sprout wings and take flight.
“How on earth are you able to obtain so many birth records?” She shook her head, the answer swiftly coming to her on its own. “Spies.”
“Umbra demons—the most unique of the lesser demons—are mercurial creatures at best, but being incorporeal lends them a certain finesse. You simply need to ensure that you’re paying them the highest amount. They are loyal only to themselves. And my brother Pride, mostly.”
“Your collection is all quite impressive, Prince Sloth.”
He pursed his lips, and Camilla wondered what she’d said that had displeased him.
“Pardon me, Your Highness. If I’ve overstepped—”
“You haven’t, Miss Antonius.” He gave her a warm smile. “I go by Lo. Please do away with any formalities. Only my brothers call me Sloth, and it’s typically to get a rise out of me.”
Lo guided her down a long, winding corridor that was easily twice the size of her town house. He paused before the next hallway, glancing up at the plaque.
HABENTIS MALEFICIA.
Witchcraft.
“Some wings are more… sentient. They often rearrange themselves—nothing too disconcerting. Windows and doors switch places, furniture changes. One hour you might find a settee, the next a barstool. Sometimes spells we investigate go awry. Witchcraft doesn’t come easily to demons.”
“Do you do much investigating?” Camilla asked.
Lo lifted a shoulder, shrugging noncommittally.
“My court dabbles in a little of this and a little of that. We enjoy being well-rounded.”
Which was demon evasion for yes, she thought wryly. Maybe he hadn’t written her off as a threat quite yet.
“Would you be able to find something out of its place?” she asked, thinking of the game.
“Of course; we keep strict records of each and every chamber.”
Records were wonderful, but they’d still need to search through each room. And that could take a lifetime, she was realizing.
They continued into the next corridor, each one more impressive than the last.
Instead of hardwood, this floor was made of what appeared to be black marble with deep crimson specks.
Lo caught her curious stare.
“Heliotrope. More commonly known as bloodstone. It’s mined from just outside Malice Isle. The seat of the royal vampire court.”
He didn’t elaborate and Camilla didn’t press. She’d heard whispers in the dark market of the vampire prince—it was said he always heard his true name when it was spoken aloud, no matter where or when—and she did not wish to draw his attention if those rumors were true.
“Most ladders are enchanted,” Lo said. “Simply call for one and direct it where you’d like to go.” At her surprised look, he added, “We are quite capable of physically moving ladders, of course, but why not enchant if one can? We may prefer mind over brawn, but don’t forget, we are demons. House Sloth will battle just as ruthlessly as any other House of Sin.”