Traitor (Creepy Hollow, #3) Read Online Free PDF

That does sound like a good idea, which makes me think that if it were possible, someone would already have figured out a way to do it.”
    “ True.” Why didn’t that occur to me? “But . . . what if that person was hiding how to do it?”
    Tora tilts her head to the side. “Why would they do that?”
    “ Um . . . I don’t know.” I chicken out of telling her everything else. “Never mind. I was just thinking out loud.” I slide a little lower in my chair, then sit up straight again as something else occurs to me. “Wait, I have one more question. How long do halflings live for?”
    Tora sighs. “I don’t know, Vi. It depends what kind of halfling we’re talking about and how much magic he or she has. I think the general consensus is that the more magic, the longer the life.” She pauses. “Is this some written assignment you’re doing?”
    “Um, no. Just another thought.”
    “ Okay.” Tora gives me a strange look, then settles back in her chair. “Then I guess we’d better get to the part you’ve been looking forward to the most: How do you feel about having killed the goblin last night?”
    I make it to the end of the counseling session having said just enough to satisfy Tora that I’m dealing with having killed someone. And I am. I just don’t usually deal with death by talking about it. I prefer to shove it in a little box labeled Stuff I Don’t Think About.
    “ Okay, I’ve kept you long enough,” says Tora. “You need to get back to the Training Center. Here’s a note for whoever’s on duty.” She writes a few words explaining my absence onto the corner of a scroll, tears it off, and hands it over. I head for the door. “And Vi?” she adds. I stop and look back, my hand resting on the doorknob. “Please try to refrain from throwing deadly objects at your classmates.”
     
     

C HAPTER F OUR

     
     
    I don’t return to the Training Center. Instead, I climb up to the fourth floor and hurry toward the library. I peek inside, checking for Amon, the head librarian. He’s cool, but he won’t approve of me missing training. And aside from that, I don’t want him asking questions about the two things I’m about to look up.
    The library appears to be empty. I tiptoe across it, heading straight for the graduate records. I sit down between the shelves, breathing in the smell of old reed paper. I pull out the volume that includes the year my parents graduated. I flip through to the relevant page, then scan the list until I find their names: Kale Fairdale and Rose Hawthorne. My mother’s name is written in gold, indicating that she was top of her class. For years I’ve hoped my own name will be printed in gold in one of these books. I continue scanning the list, but by the end of it I’ve yet to come across an Angelica.
    Perhaps Nate’s mother wasn’t in the same year as my parents. I turn back a few pages and search some more lists, then forward, and search some more. No Angelica. I lean back against a shelf, the book resting on my lap. So, either Angelica confused me with someone else when we met in the labyrinth, or she was lying.
    Idly, I flip back to my parents’ page—and sit up straight. There it is. Angelica Ashwood, right at the top of the list. How did I miss that? A shiver whispers across the back of my neck. So she was telling the truth. There’s a chance, of course, that this could be another Angelica. But I doubt it. Nate’s mother seemed pretty certain she knew my parents. And hated them. Perhaps she and my mother had a similar relationship to the one Ryn and I share. Perhaps they were in competition with each other the whole way through training, and Angelica never forgave my mother for being top of the class.
    I close the book, return it to its place on the shelf, and stand. I’ll think about Angelica later. Right now I have something else to search for. I place my hands on my hips and stare at the shelves around me. Where do I even begin to look for a