Vi cursed under her breath. There was nothing she could do but continue looking and hope she’d be lucky. With far less care, she opened up trunks of textiles, more spices, tools of a leather worker. But nothing that even remotely resembled a key.
“I think I see them coming.”
“Mother—” Vi’s tirade was cut short. A small piece of fabric, nearly completely hidden by the others she’d been sorting through, caught her eye. Stepping over two baskets and sitting on a trunk, Vi hastily opened a small box.
She recognized the dress as the same the woman had worn in the market that day. There were other clothes, simple and finely spun. Beneath them was a bag of jewelry Vi pulled into her lap. If she was going to hide a precious heirloom key, she would do it with her other valuables. But there was nothing beyond bangles and gold.
“Vi—”
“Just one more minute.”
“That’s all you have,” Jayme said firmly.
Vi pulled out the blanket underneath the jewelry. Some other personal effects. And then a series of book spines were at the bottom. All of them had markings in the language of old Mhashan—words Vi couldn’t read without putting in some careful thought first—but it was the blank one that caught her eye.
It’s hidden with the rest. Back of the tome, the records I kept.The woman’s delirious words echoed in her mind. Perhaps she’d been answering Vi’s question after all.
Sliding out the tome, Vi opened it, flipping right to the back. It was more writing in the old language. For a brief second, Vi thought about taking the whole thing with her. Were they just records of sales? Or something more?
Her debate was cut short when the pages stopped flipping, revealing a section in the back that had been glued together and was hollowed out in the center. All sorts of markings were on the pages around it, made in dark red ink. But Vi focused on the iron key nestled in the secret compartment, a rose carved into one end, and skeleton teeth on the other.
“Vi!”
“I found it!” Vi grabbed the key and quickly snapped the book shut. It was only as she was halfway to filling back up the woman’s trunk that she realized she’d even thought about taking the tome with her to translate later. Vi paused, staring. Did she dig it up again? Did she care if the warriors knew someone had been shifting through the goods?
“Vi, we have to—”
“I’m coming.” Vi sprinted over, key in hand. On her way she threw a few of the tarps back into place, trying to make it look less like someone had been nibbing through things. By the time anyone found out, she’d be long gone.
Jayme opened the door, quickly locking it behind them. They stepped out of the lantern’s orb of light and into the shadow of darkness behind the tree trunk right as the warrior was rounding the wall. The two young women crouched down, holding their breath and waiting before slipping into the night the second the coast was clear.
Chapter Nine
After a good night’s sleep,relatively speaking, she should feel much better. But a rock had taken up residence where Vi’s stomach used to be, her eyes burned, and her hands wouldn’t stop shaking. She occupied them with the key she’d retrieved the night before, turning it over time and again as she sat on the windowsill of her bedroom for what would be the last time.
The linens had been stripped that morning, still warm from the night’s sleep. Every worldly possession she owned—and some she didn’t even remember she owned—had been packed into several trunks, now loaded into a cart far beneath her. If Vi strained, she could barely see it. But she didn’t look down; she looked out across the treetops that had been the only home she’d ever known.
Vi closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to try to settle her stomach, and then, “Narro hath hoolo.”
Taavin appeared at her side. Vi barely looked at him, her eyes still turned outward. He sat slowly on the opposite side of the window sill from her—she more sensed the movement than saw it. Vi slowly brought her eyes to him and he held her with his thoughtful stare.
“Is today the day?” he asked, finally. All she could do was nod. He turned, looking out over the trees, and Vi did the same. The early morning wind picked up, tousling her hair and leaving his untouched. “How do you feel?”
“I don’t know. Much the same, I suppose,” she said. “Though today it’s far more real. This room… it’s been all I’ve ever known.” She looked at the gnarled ceiling, polished wood, the heavy scent of sap that always clung to the air like a persistent child at his mother’s leg. “It’s odd to think I’ll never be here again.”
“And when you leave, you’ll be on the long road to Meru.”
The mention of her forthcoming journey returned Vi’s attention to the key in her hands. She held it up in her palm, showing him. Taavin leaned forward, inspecting it.
“Does it mean anything to you?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I haven’t seen any keys in my dreams. But that doesn’t mean it’s not significant.”
“It is… I’m sure of it,” Vi insisted. Perhaps it was just hopeful thinking that her efforts hadn’t been for naught.
“We will find out.” Taavin placed his hands on either side of hers. The motion drew her attention back to his face. Without either of them realizing it, they had leaned forward, the distance between them shrunken to almost nothing. “I admire what you’re doing and wish I could do the same. You’re one of the bravest people I’ve met.”
“You’re just saying that.” Even if he was, it made the rock that was her stomach soften some, the weight within her lessen. If he could believe she was brave, then maybe she could trust him enough to believe it herself.
