Lux huffed. “You’re so sure, are you?”
“It makes the most sense to me. Your brother wants to run a school of learning. You want to hoard knowledge and alter the truth to better suit yourself. Kill the brother. Take his place.”
Her brow furrowed. How quick he was to work through horrible theories. “If that were true, I don’t see why he’d have kept him preserved for revival. Even with a curse—”
She realized her mistake then.
Shaw stiffened like her remark had fused a rod to his spine. He stared at her. In the candlelight, his eyes had turned molten.
His voice, however, was frigid. “Whatdid you say?”
You twit!her head shouted.
She’d planned to tell him. Obviously. But not right now. Not when they had other things to uncover, and there’d already been so much leveled at them. Lux replaced the frame.
She drew a deep breath. “His body was preserved after his death. Some alchemical nonsense that supposedly will allow him to be revived. If I go through with it.”
“If you go—Lux.”
She threw her hands up. “I know! I won’t. They said he unknowingly cursed them, and the only option for reversal is his blood.”
Shaw’s raised eyebrow bothered her more in the scant light. He looked at her like he couldn’t believe she’d ever trusted a word they’d told her. Well, she knew now, didn’t she?
“Maybe he did kill him,” she growled.
Do I tell him about the Stripping experiment?About their other offering and the title she’d overhead them use for her?Her eyes raked over his irritated frown.
Definitely not.Besides, she would never have agreed.
Her inner voice writhed.You didn’t agree to the rocks,it reminded her.
Lux eyed the dried flowers in their vases, the decayed plant matter in their pots. It seemed Riselda always held an appreciation for anything with roots.Yet, you left them to wither in your escape.
She wasn’t surprised, only curious. After all, Riselda always chose herself in the end. She couldn’t even die properly.
Another betrayal.
Her gaze flung to Shaw as a floorboard creaked. He held the loose board in one hand, the other holding the meager candle to the exposed space below.
“How did you find that?” she said incredulously.
“The edges were worn more than the rest—fingers have tugged on it often. But it’s empty except for this.”
He set down the board to show her a glinting coin—a silvdan.
“Riselda’s childhood hiding place? She increased her scale by quite a lot, didn’t she.”
He fitted the floor back together and rose to his feet. “Seems so.” He surveyed the room with one last practiced study. “I think this has been pretty well picked through. Apparently, they cared little for the clothes.” He toed a skirt at his feet.
“She would have hated seeing them like this.”
Lux hadn’t cared for clothes in a long time; so much as they were practical, she was satisfied. Of course, she hadn’t felt velvet on her skin then… She eyed the partially open door. “How much longer will that candle hold out?”
“Enough to get down the stairs.” Shaw came up behind her, sliding the coin into her palm and continuing to the door. His hand splayed across it; he pushed it farther open. “Saints above,” he muttered.
“What is it?” Lux hurried up to his back, her heart already thumping relentlessly.
Shaw pushed again on the door—it wouldn’t budge. “Books,” he said. “Everywhere.”
