“You’re sure?” She sounded doubtful.
“Of course. I put them there, did I no’?”
“Why the hell would you enchant a mortal museum? What the hell were you thinking?” Her voice gave away how incredibly stupid she thought he was. Mytheans were forbidden from revealing their existence to mortals. As long as a Mythean looked human, he could walk among mortals, interact with them—hell, even sleep with them. As long as he never let the mortals know that the things that went bump in the night were actually real.
Break that rule, and the Immortal University would come down on your head and toss you into this hell for as long as they saw fit. They took their job of protecting the secrecy of their kind seriously. Though many Mytheans possessed powers that mortals could only dream of, they were vastly outnumbered. If the witch hunts had taught Mytheans anything, it was that it was best not to spook the mortals.
He had most definitely spooked the mortals.
“What did you hope to gain by enchanting the museum exhibits?” she prodded.
Ian snapped out of the memory of arcs of magic shooting across Edinburgh’s night sky, billowing plumes of purple smoke blocking out the moon, and mortals running screaming through the streets. “Why do you care?”
“If I’m going to get you out of this hellhole, I want to know what landed you here in the first place. The only thing on record is that you blew up the museum and alerted dozens of mortals to the existence of magic. It was a shit show. The university had to wipe memories and put down the mortals who were too stubborn to forget what they saw. But you’ve never said why you blew it up in the first place, and I’m guessing it has to do with the enchantments that Logan told me about.”
No, he’d never said why the museum had blown up. The university hadn’t cared. All they’d cared about was the explosion and who was responsible. They’d thrown him in here and hadn’t looked back.
If it would help him get out of here, he’d tell her anything she wanted to know. “I made a living stealing artifacts. Mortal artifacts sell quite well on the black market. My preferred museum was the Scottish Museum of Antiquities. Eventually, other thieves decided it was prime hunting ground as well. I enchanted the museum exhibits to stop my competitors before they got to the best bits stored in the vault. The enchantments only activate in the presence of Mytheans. The museum blew up that night because other thieves tried to use counter-magic. Something went wrong.”
“So Logan was your partner?”
“Nay.” It was a lie, but no way in hell was he ratting out his friend. The night that the museum had blown up, Logan had managed to escape. Ian, knocked unconscious in the blast and buried under an enormous pile of rubble, had not. “What’s there that you want so bad?”
“The Book of Worlds. Mortals have it in the museum.”
“What’s that?”
Her jaw slackened. “How could you no’ know about it?”
“Never had any reason to know about it.” He folded his arms over his chest. He hadn’t had the same education as most Mytheans growing up. It had bothered him once, but no longer. Prison had hardened that type of concern right out of him.
“Well, it’s the single most important book in the world. To Mytheans and to mortals, though they doona even know it exists. It’s a record of all the true religions.”
“Interesting, but what’s the big deal? Mortals would no’ believe it anyway. They’re too stubborn.”
Though Mytheans were the creatures of myth made real by mortal belief, mortals had no idea. They still fought over the one true god or the one true afterlife. They’d never accept that mortal belief had birthed everything from the gods and mythic creatures like witches and demons to the afterworlds where mortals went after death. It’d be terrifying to realize, particularly since Mytheans now existed independent of mortal belief.
“In the back of the book is a covenant signed by all the gods—Greek, Norse, Hindu, Christian, all of them—promising no’ to interfere on earth to gain more followers or more power. If it’s destroyed…” She gave him a loaded look.
“The gods would no longer be bound by their promise,” he said.
“Exactly. They could come to earth and wage divine war. No’ all pantheons are power hungry, but it’s in the nature of gods to seek worshippers. Many of the ancient gods’ followers are dead, and they miss the adulation. They’ll seek new ones, here on earth. And of course the mortals will fight amongst themselves to prove which god is best.”
He whistled low. So not only was the book real, it was important. Damned valuable, too. His fingertips tingled.
“Why is the book in the museum?” It hadn’t been there when he’d been a free man or he’d have stolen it.
“I doona know. And Logan will no’ tell me unless I get your help in retrieving it. He thinks my only way into the museum is with your help. I can get you out of here for the time it takes to retrieve the book. After that, depending on your behavior, the university will reopen your case and consider an early release.”
His fists clenched. “The university does no’ change its mind. I’m in here for another two centuries.”
“They might. And this is your only chance.” Her voice was hard, but desperation crept in at the edges.
She was lying about the university, and she wanted this. Very, very badly. Why, he wasn’t sure. But he was her only shot if she wanted to get past the enchantments he’d placed on the museum.
“Well?” she asked, a brow arched. “Are you going to help me?”
He nodded. No question—he’d take any opportunity to get out of here. He’d see what Logan had planned, and if that didn’t pan out he could just steal the book for himself and barter his release. Either w