“The tapestry.” She nudged a bit of non-human ash with the tip of her boot.
“Shit,” he breathed, moving closer to the body. “Oh, shit. We’re absolutely fucked.” Isahn shot out a substantial stream of water, pushing Peros to the side so he could see if—just maybe—some of the artifact survived, trapped behind the body.
There was nothing there.
“At least Gasparo can’t get it, right?” Hildy grimaced, her bright side still rather cloudy.
“And George will never know what her father’s end goal was. She won’t know why he needed it. It might’ve been the answer to taking down the veil.” Frustration bubbled up his throat as he drew back his fist. “Fuck!” He slammed his hand into the charred wall panel where the tapestry, the stupid fucking tapestry, once hung.
Wood splintered, and Isahn yanked back his smarting fist, eyeing the damage to his knuckles. That was a shortsighted decision.
Hildy let out ahumph.
Isahn thought she was judging him for his embarrassing outburst, until he followed her line of sight to the spot he’d punched.
“Shit,” he said, peering into the hollow space staring back at him. All the night’s excitement did a number on his current vocabulary.
Sticking his hand into the hole he’d made, Isahn felt around. It was about a foot square, gritty, with solid stone walls. Definitely a carved-out niche of some sort.
“Shit,” he said again as his fingers touched something that wasn’t splintered wood and certainly wasn’t the sandstone of the outer walls of Staridge. “Oh, shit.” He trailed over a bumpy, rectangular object.
“You’re really going to have to give me more than— Oh, shit.” Hildy cut herself off as Isahn pulled forth a thick, ancient-looking tome. Bound in embossed leather, with gold and jeweled inlays and a solid golden clasp, the book was a work of art. “I’m just going to say it. Do you thinkthat’sthe tapestry?”
“It’s a book.”
“Well, no shit, Isahn. But Eanraig said there’s variation in the possible translation. And that letter Gasparo had, it says the tapestrylayin Selwas, not hung. And remember, Wynnie thought it might not even be about a tapestry?” she asked.
“It looks ancient. I’m afraid to open it.”
“We have to see what it is.”
“I know. We will. Let’s do it with Lia.” His sister played a big role in the night’s events, and she deserved to be there if they had successfully saved the relic.
“What if it contains information she doesn’t know?”
“I’m sure it’ll have information thatnoneof us know. If it’s really a thousand years old, does it matter if it speaks of the fae?” Isahn lowered his voice to a whisper on the last question, cognizant of the staff who were flooding the now-safe basement.
“Valid point,” Hildy agreed. “Freshen up, then meet with Lia?”
With the book cradled against Isahn’s chest like a fragile baby, they headed toward the stairs. “Clean this up, please. I don’t care what happens to his body.”
His household guards acknowledged the command and jumped into action. Isahn could hear Adana grumbling about the mess with a few of the maids as he and Hildy rounded the staircase to continue on to their rooms. They’d all be getting exceptional bonuses for their troubles.
“Didyoubringit?”Solaelia asked, clapping eagerly when Isahn entered the breakfast room.
In her seat, with a cup of tea in hand, Hildy chuckled, having clearly told his sister about their find.
He shot Lia an incredulous look and tapped the book in his arms. “Are you blind?”
“Just excited.” She shrugged.
He joined Lia and Hildy at the table laden with a feast. It seemed no one had gone back to sleep after Peros breached the house. The first rays of dappled light flickered through the trees lining the east side of the manicured back lawn and glistened off the calm lake below.
The women had already cleared a wide section of the table, anticipating Isahn’s arrival.
“You didn’t peek already, did you?” Lia bounced up behind him, poking him in the side.
“Seriously? I’m a grown man,” he groused, though her resilience truly surprised him. She seemed back to her usual, happy self.
