Ryc’s smile grows into a curling grin. “I expected you to at least listen to what he had to say. Not take off through the city like a criminal.” He reaches forThe Elder Mythos, passing over the larger obsidian box with the crystal.“I suppose I have Artemise to thank for that.”
He’s not wrong.
“Is this book also a sophont?” he asks, opening to a random page.
“No,” I answer, glancing at the page he’s found. “A book of fables.”
“Demonic fables?” he asks, noting the Malbolge runes on the page.
I shake my head. “No, primordial ones.”
He turns the page, revealing a beautiful inked rendering of a towering tree nestled in a mountainous valley, its canopy filled with blooming flowers beneath a night sky.
Snapping the book shut, he returns it to the table.
“Why bring these?” he asks and I shift in my seat.
That’s the crux.
The outcome isn’t nearly as nefarious as the intent.
“The hells do not function on a commerce system based on gold or money. We barter using services or time,” I say, my stare burning a hole into the floor between my feet. “Bringing them was a precautionary step. I knew I’d need to fund a life.”
“You were going to sell them,” Ryc says, his voice soft. “What stopped you?”
“I felt the ring too useful,” I answer honestly. I heave a long sigh. “Things were stolen in haste. I didn’t know what I brought until well after my arrival.The Elder Mythosis the exception. It’s the only text in the hells’ library I’ve discovered that mentions the primordials.”
He returns the book to the table.
“And you’ve no idea who this belongs to?” he asks, pulling the soul crystal by the obsidian box closer to the edge of the table.
“No,” I answer, pursing my lips. “In all my time reaping souls, I’ve never seen a gold one.”
“Soul crystals are a damning thing to possess in Eldoterra,” Ryc says, leaning forward to inspect the crystal. He keeps a healthy distance, studying it with a keen stare. “You could be accused of necromancy.”
I scoff a laugh. “Without a necromancer, I’ve no means to learn whose it is,” I say. “By the time I discovered what the obsidian contained, things were… chaotic enough.”
Ryc straightens himself, nodding. “Is this something Vaelyn would notice missing?”
I pause, my breath hitching.
I never stopped to think about that.
I stammer as my mind whirls. “No, I—I don’t think so,” I reply. “I found it in the library after I—” I stop myself from exposing yet another less than stellar facet of myself and try again. “I found it in the library where it shouldn’t have been. Anything of importance Netharis kept close.”
In his study displayed on a shelf, for example.
Like Zuriel.
“Either way, I’d rather not leave it to chance,” Ryc says. He places a hand over mine on my knee. “I’ll prepare a warded cell in the stronghold to keep these things safe and hidden.”
“Will that be enough?” I ask, my brows furrowing.
“I’ll make sure it is,” he answers with a quick kiss to my brow as he rises. He retreats toward the door. “I’ll return shortly, little love,” he says, holding my stare for a moment.
The door closes and I heave a sigh.
All things considered, this situation could have ended much worse.
