Page 140

Amethyst kept her head on my shoulder as we walked behind the scribe leading us deeper into the Basilica. Her pendant sat on her wrist, sitting the star jewel of her finger bracelet. Even knowing there wasn’t a hope for me to be rational about others scenting her, I missed the way her scent had wrapped around me this morning while I helped with her hair pins and tightened the laces of her stays. I pressed a kiss to her temple, and she hummed, her hold on my arm and hand tightening. The scribe didn’t look over her shoulder as she led us into a portion of the Basilica I’d never been allowed. We were several floors underground, the air dry and cool, the clear glass sconces burning brighter than those that lined the hallways of the upper areas.

It had surprised me when she asked if we could see the archive of prophecies the Medean disciple had mentioned were available to be viewed, but I was happy to oblige. It kept my mind off the mess developing in Senona that was inevitably going to bleed over to here, especially Oakenbell.

She’d looked up from where she had been reading one of the primers she’d been working through, her head on my lap while we sat in the smaller sitting room.

“About… about pregnancy,” she said. “Is that something… I mean, am I possibly going to get pregnant now?”

I shook my head. “I’ve been taking a fertility suppressant since our study session at the Atheneum. I wasn’t going to force you into having a child before we’d discussed it.”

Tension fell away from her shoulders.

“Okay. Um, thank you.” I traced her lips, and she smiled. “What happened with the assessments?”

“Frostdale is confident in their numbers. The units look well-organized and without showing mental fatigue,” I explained. “Those in Oakenbell were of similar mindset, but news reached the governors of the city while I was confirming if they needed anyone additional that one of the civilians on the ship was a high-ranking member of the Smithy Guild in the city.”

She frowned. “That’s not good.”

“Definitely not.” I shook my head. “He had an enchanted mirror with him, like the ones you and your sister have. They were a gift inherited from his grandparents upon his marriage, apparently.”

Amethyst set her book down and rolled until she was on her back, her hair spilling over my leg and onto the other side of the sofa. “What did it capture?”

“Clear views of those who attacked.”

Amethyst raised an eyebrow. “I figured. But who was it?”

“Mercenaries,” I offered. “The ship’s passengers fought back. They’d hired additional bodyguards in the hopes of making safe passage. The message managed to capture the admission one of the mercenaries made that they had been hired by someone in Sepra.”

She pursed her lips and then set the primer on the small table. “Could we look through that archive of prophecies the disciple mentioned?”

So now I watched as the scribe pulled back a bar on a door and then eased it open, revealing a long, narrow, single-story version of the Atheneum’s sprawling bookshelves. She gestured to the two large fire jars on the worktable nearest the door, their lids firmly shut like those in the library, and then turned to us with a smile.

“The written records are kept in the first three rows of shelves,” she explained softly. “Standard etiquette is you take only one at a time unless it is your own copy. If you make your own copy, it must be left here for future reference until and unless a disciple gives you permission to leave with it.”

She gestured to a low-sitting shelf full of small card boxes.

“The Recall Orbs are shelved in chronological order and begin on the fourth set of shelves. It’s typically easier to find the one you are looking for if you’ve already found its written counterpart so you can cross-reference the date ascribed to it.”

While she spoke, she pulled a gold coin the size of my palm from one of the card boxes. In its center was a turquoise gem like Amethyst’s mirror.

“Activate this the way you would a messaging stone, and it will alert a scribe that you’re finished for the day. One will close the archive and escort you to the main hall of the basilica.”

Then she left with little fanfare, closing the heavy door behind her and sealing us in the long, mostly-dark room. Amethyst swallowed heavily and then pulled a notebook and fountain pen from the card boxes the scribe had indicated. Then she pulled a small green book from the pocket of her dress and set it on the table, near enough to the firelight I was able to read the title.

“Where did you find that book?” I asked.

She glanced up with a flush. “It was in the stacks in the study room of the Atheneum. Vincent mentioned it would be a good next step after reading through the pantheon book.” Then she looked toward the shelves. “Is there… like a catalogue?”

I frowned and glanced around the small workspace. A binder sat in the center of the only other table, and I flipped through it.

“It looks like a catalogue of sorts, at least,” I offered, “depending on how you were hoping to look through everything. It doesn’t offer any kind of chronological system.”

“I was wanting to look for ones involving Sepra or maybe the Alholím,” she whispered.

I frowned. “Sepra?”

She bit her lip. “Sepra’s the ticket I—we—touched. The kingdom that brought us into the Rite the wrong way. It’s probably pretty self-centered to think that might have to do with the ships being attacked, but I wanted to at least see.”

“That’s a good thought.” I cupped her cheek and pressed a kiss to her nose.