But we had diverged in adolescence. She’d become so obsessed with history she’d been noticed by the archivists’ college. Soon, she would leave for the central district—more old papers and candlelight and swishing robes. And I would stand on the wall.
At least we were both, in some sense, creatures of night.
Elisabet sighed, set down the round, and began gathering the parchment from her desk. She placed it into a folder with slow care and lowered the front flap. When she met my eyes, I understood the nod she gave me.
When you grew up together, that secret language between you never really died.
I opened the blinds over her desk, and the sunset filtered in over her busy room. Books, books, so many books, a twin bed, an inkpotwith a white quill—she could wield that feather-tip like I held a sword—and only one chair.
I sat on the chair while she sat on her bed, facing me. She unwrapped the round in her lap, and I offered the small folding knife at my waist for cutting pieces off. She sat with straight-backed elegance in her green robes.
“This knife,” she said as she made a slow, inefficient cut, “is it guard-issue?”
My lips curled. “Does the edge not give it away?”
The smallest smile touched her mouth, though her eyes stayed down. “I hadn’t expected the wheat scythes to be sharper.”
“The scythes keep us fed.” A touch of bitterness entered my chest as I watched her saw away with my knife. Here in this cloistered room, even Lis’s work seemed more useful to the kingdom. “Feels like you’ve been locked away for weeks. What wisdom have you gleaned from our long-dead ancestors?”
Her brown eyes flitted up to me, then back down. “I’m not really allowed to discuss it. The college, you know…”
The college was known to be secretive. Still, my chest pricked. “Sure.”
She swallowed as she gazed down at the bread. Maybe she felt some guilt, or maybe some enthusiasm she couldn’t contain, because she said in a low voice, “Iron. It’s about iron.”
I tilted my head forward, interested enough. “Iron?”
“Not just any iron.” She cut off a mangled piece of bread and passed it to me. “It’s special, some formulation from long past. That’s all I know as yet.”
“Something besides sunlit?” All our weapons were made of sunlit iron. It was deadly to the monsters.
She gave a single, slow nod.
What could be more powerful than sunlit? I began chewing, feeling a little of the stiffness melt away as we ate. “That’s generous of the college to entrust you with their precious papers.”
“I insisted.” Her eyes met mine, now dancing in the candlelight and sunset. Finally, I’d touched on Elisabet’s heart. “Because the archives are so large, you know, and the language changed over the centuries, few have tried to learn the oldest script. None are fond of transcribing it, at least.”
She brought a piece of bread to her mouth and began chewing. Her eyes roamed over me as if noticing for the first time— “You’re in leathers.”
“Gets cold on the wall.”
“Are you up there now?” She paused. “Well, officially.”
Lis had always known about my nighttime wall-climbing. She’d never liked it, always treated it with wide-eyed caution, but she kept my secret. She was as loyal as she was reclusive.
“Tonight, and every night.” I finished off my piece and wiped my hands on my pants. “Speaking of which.”
Her eyes followed me as I stood. “It’s incredible that you did it, Eury. As a woman.”
“Your mother did it.”
I caught her flinch in the soft light. I shouldn’t have mentioned her mother; for me, she was inspiration—but for Lis, she was absence. True, cold, irrevocable absence. She’d ridden out one day and never returned.
Lis’s eyes lowered to the round. “You should take this with you to the barracks.” She began to wrap it back up.
I stopped her, my fingers over her hand. “Keep it. Mama will insist on giving me another one next week. And transcribing with a shaky hand could result in a whole new language.”
Her eyes lifted to me, softening with humor. It had been some time since I’d come to visit, and maybe both of us had forgotten the spark of our friendship. But it was still there.
