When I’d left, he’d given me full authority to do what I thought necessary, a trust I’d somewhat foolishly found pride in. It just wasn’t safe to send missives back and forth. Maybe ifI could find one of our spies in the larger cities, I could get a message back to him, but otherwise, I was on my own.
I felt like I was fucking everything up. Moving so slowly that perhaps another generation would pass before we got to step foot onto our ancestral home again.
By unspoken agreement, the rest of our group hadn’t read the Second Line archives, even though I knew they’d find it as informative as I did. They were giving us privacy, I guess. Instead, they’d moved onto the other books and artifacts in this giant tomb. And there were many. This place had existed before the decimation of my Line, which in itself was a revelation.
Avalon was currently curled up in a chair, engrossed in the book on her lap. Vox was using his air to gently turn the pages of a book that looked so old, it might crumble. Hayle was swinging a sword around as if it wasn’t an antique, a smile on his face. Goddess, I envied him sometimes.
“AH-HA!”
The shout startled me so badly, I nearly tore the page. I looked over at Reeba, who was clapping her hands together, and Avalon’s tiny stolt, who was prancing out from between the boxes with a wriggling mouse between his small, sharp teeth. Epsy looked proud of himself, and judging by the way Reeba was cooing at him, the praise was well deserved.
First, he went to Avalon to show her his prize, and although she looked a little green, she told him what a clever stolt he was, what an impressive hunter. Then he marched over to Hayle, who laughed down at the showboating little creature. Climbing Hayle’s leg, he deposited the tiny mouse in his hand.
Hayle, I swear, then had a whole conversation with the rodent. The mouse, not the stolt. Though probably both.
He shook his head at whatever the mouse said back. The Third Line was so fucking weird, but no one could look atHayle having a conversation with a fucking mouse and not be impressed by their power.
Finally, he nodded and looked up at Reeba. “He said in exchange for his life, he’ll come with us as we leave and find a home somewhere else. He asks that you leave half a handful of oats out for his family living in the huts, once a week.”
“You want me to negotiate with a mouse?” Reeba seemed incredulous, and I didn’t blame her. It did sound ridiculous.
“He said he was the only one brave enough to make it down here and past the pest wards around this room. Without him, they’ll starve, or one of the other mice will get brave enough to attempt it, and then you’ll be back in this position again. Better to ensure they never have to try.”
I raised an eyebrow, wondering how much of that had been the mouse’s little speech and how much of it was Hayle. Who was I kidding? The mouse wasn’t out here making ultimatums.
Reeba huffed. “Fine. Once a week, so you better tell them to make it last.” With that, she swished from the room, her long skirt trailing behind her.
Hayle looked over and grinned at Avalon. He murmured something to the mouse, then placed it in his shirt pocket. He scratched Epsy’s head, and the little stolt scurried back to Avalon, curling up around her neck.
I closed Luftan’s journal and pulled the next one toward me, still grinning at the two of them. “You’re really a big marshmallow under that tough guy exterior, aren’t you, Taeme?” I teased, and he rolled his eyes at me.
“Hazard of the magic. We respect the circle of life, but every creature deserves empathy. If he’d refused to go, I would have let Epsy eat him.”
He headed back over to the crate of weapons. Some were historic blades, but others were instruments I’d never seen. I wasn’t sure playing with them was the right move, but I guesshow else could we learn their use? Besides, it looked like Hayle was having a good time.
The journal in front of me belonged to Oris Hanovan. The son who’d indirectly caused the First Line uprising, and the decimation of my Line. I wanted to read it from the beginning, but instead, I flicked to the middle.
Ivan Vylan heldhis midsummer party last night, and it was as wild and hedonistic as always. If anyone knows how to party, it is Ivan. All of the Heirs were there, one of the few times we can be together without getting bogged down by the minutiae of a Conclave.
I met the most beautiful woman from the Ninth Line. She was gorgeous, like a bright flower upon the unending ice plains. I tried to get her to dance with me, but she declined. She is in Fortaare for a week, however, so I will have more opportunities. Ivan said it was because I was as ugly as the rear end of a worm-riddled horse, so it was especially hilarious to watch her rebuff him too.
There was a fight…
It went on and on,explaining the party, who had sex with whom, who vomited in the gardens of the Vylan pool house, and other exploits.Interesting.Obviously, tensions hadn’t risen quite to fever pitch by this point.
I skipped ahead.
I toldIvan that this was madness. That he couldn’t go forth with this plan, least of all under his father’s nose, but he wouldn’t listen. I know he feels dismissed by his father—Baron Vylan is an especially cold man, unlike my own, but this was drastic, even for Ivan.
I warned him against using something he didn’t understand, but he is set on this path. Ellanora told me that it was important I change his mind, but I feel like I am talking to a stone. He is settled, and has even created a place for it below the Hall of Ebrus.
At Ellanora’s urging, I’ll continue to try to dissuade him. I feel selfishly happy that he’s being so obstinate, however. It gives me more opportunity to meet with Ellanora. Surely, if I could just show her how easy I could make her life, she would accept my courting suit?
“I found something,”I told the room, and they all moved toward me. I pushed the book further out on the table, so everyone could read the entry silently.
Avalon frowned. “What do you think it was?”
I shrugged, because how could we know? I’d read the rest of the journal in case Oris had hinted further, but judging by the vague way he was writing this entry, he was purposefully keeping it from being written down. But why? Had he been worried about his father finding it?
