“Older?”
“Yeah. I was just looking at some of the artwork in the Norvalian collection and came across a particularly lovely tapestry depicting some interesting goings on. I thought it would be a great opportunity to put images created by one artist with the words written by another.”
Nilkis looked up from his task, a curious, happily pleased expression slightly creasing the corners of his eyes. “It is unusual, the interest you show in our history.”
“I like to learn.”
“Clearly. But you do more than merely study the most popular texts. Your curiosity is admirable, especially for one with no reason to care. And a woman, no less.” He hesitated a moment. “No offense.”
“None taken,” she replied, a bit floored that he had apologized to her. It was a marked shift from what she’d experienced since she began moving about the grounds on her own. No one, other than Draikis, seemed to want her here. But Nilkis, though not buddy-buddy by any means, was clearly warming to her. “Your order took me in, and I know I’m kind of a burden just being here. The more I can learn, the better I can fit in. At least, as much as someone like me can, I mean.”
Nilkis nodded, always a man of few words, but his appreciation of her sentiment was clearly not lost on him. He slid from his chair, stretching his back after what must have been hours hard at work. He rolled his shoulders and turned to his visitor.
“Shall we?”
“Uh…”
“To the deep archives. You said you wanted to see some of the truly old texts. So, tell me, exactly how far back do you want to go?”
In short order Ella was comfortably tucked away in her study area, far from the eyes of any other brothers who might visit the archives. Finding a female there would only agitate them further, but truth be told, she rather preferred it this way, regardless.
Ella had been surprised she’d been granted access to such ancient texts. More than that, she hadn’t been required to wear any special gloves or use protective implements of any kind.
“It’s better this way,” Nilkis had explained. “The natural oils of your hands are actually better for the parchment than gloves, which pull moisture. Of course, there are sealants and stasisfields for storage, but we feel these are living texts, and as such they should be experienced in their original, natural state. And given how rarely they are taken from storage, any degradation they might experience is minuscule.”
And so it was that Ella was carefully handling some of the most ancient works housed in the Norvalian archives. She took her time, attentive in her reading, still amazed how a translation rune could afford her the ability to read this absolutely alien text. But these powered runes were the real deal, that was for sure.
A hot flash of tingles flooded her body as the memory of another kind of rune and its reaction ran through her. She’d been good about staying focused. About not letting her mind and other bits drift to her time with Draikis. Of course, the sensation of the aftermath of their hours upon hours of passionate lovemaking was readily present every time she shifted in her seat, but the things she was learning as she read and translated page after page were actually so interesting they kept her mind occupied.
She had fresh eyes today. High energy. Renewed focus.
“Yeah, a good fucking will do that,” she chuckled to herself, reveling in the sensations as well as the ridiculously hot memory.
She scanned the texts, moving through them at a slow but efficient pace. It actually wasn’t that much, truth be told. Once you went far enough back, the quantity of texts diminished greatly. These were the core tenets of the Order. Their origins. Essentially, their equivalent of the Old Testament, though a very alien version, and this had historical events interwoven with the rules and laws upon which they based their entire belief system.
Ella froze, doing a double take.
“That’s not right,” she muttered, re-reading a section three times to confirm what she’d just read was correct. “No way.”
She activated the reading device at her table, providing her a holographic projection of any newer text she wished. Ella called up the corresponding version of the Norvalian laws, her eyes flicking back and forth between the modern document and the original upon which it was built. A different sort of sensation filled her belly. Adrenaline, and not in a bad way. Not at all.
“Holy crap,” she gasped, re-checking her work yet again. “How can this be possible? I mean, no one else noticed this?”
She read the two texts over and over, comparing the newer language, which was a lot easier to translate, to the old. It was unmistakable. There was a difference. Somewhere in the course of transcribing and updating, some small changes had been made. And over time the divergences from the original had only increased. A little feeling of regret dampened her high.
“It’s not my place. An outsider pointing out mistakes? Yeah, that won’t go over well. Not at all. Keep it to yourself, El, don’t go stirring up a hornets’ nest.”
It was the logical thing to do. Or rather not to do. She’d continue her studies, making notes and learning all she could in the process, but that was all it would be. All it could be. She was a guest here, and that was all there was to it. If she went riling up the others she would likely be forced to leave. And with what was brewing with Draikis, that was the last thing she wanted.
Her Infala twinged, growing heated at the mere thought of him. But this felt stronger. Like it was calling out to her in the most visceral way.
Fascinating as her studies were, Ella had something more pressing on her mind. She set aside the texts, her place marked and the protective covers put in place, then headed out. She’d been so caught up in her work that it was hours later than she’d expected when she stepped outside. Still early in the day, but she’d been lost in a trance of discovery. She started walking, a plan in mind, as well as a certain someone.
“Back home, then I’m going to go find him.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Ella had been quick but thorough cleaning up her little work area in the archives before heading out. Nilkis had entrusted her with some of the oldest, rarest texts in existence, and she was not about to abuse that trust. All was secure and organized when she finally headed for the exit.
