“Good afternoon,” she said, shaking their hands one by one. “I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced. I’m Ruellian Delara, Fourth Year, Archaeologist, and head of this research project.”
“You may call me Inda,” said the one in the middle, who Ru now saw was a woman, with hair and eyes so light they almost matched her white robes.
Inda gestured to the others, identifying them as Ranto and Nell. All three were equally pale, verging on sickly, with close-cropped hair. Ranto’s hair was reddish in hue, and Nell’s was a dirty blonde. And just like the Children in the palace, they wore white hats that would do nothing to stave off the chill of the dungeon. Especially not in those floaty robes.
Ru felt oddly sorry for them; surely they hadn’taskedto be sent to a far-off dungeon in a Tower full of uncooperative academics. But here they were, and Ru felt obliged to put them at ease.
“We’re all so pleased to meet you,” she went on. “If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask.” She smiled brightly, assuming the three would keep to the edge of things, observing from a distance.
On the contrary, and much to Ru’s annoyance, the Children immediately began drifting from workstation to workstation, asking idiosyncratic questions in hushed, deadpan voices.
“And what are you measuring here, Miss Delara?” Inda droned, singling out Ru from the start and hovering around her as she worked.
Ru set down her pencil, straightening up from the paper she had been notating. “I’m making a diagram of today’s results,” she explained, waving a hand at a detailed illustration of the artifact. “We’ve begun our research by measuring the artifact’s basic attributes — weight, dimensions, and so on. As you can see, this is a depiction of the artifact itself. My colleagues are keeping their own records as well, but my job is to collate their findings and look at them as a collective, watching out for any possible conclusions, based on the overall progress of our findings.”
Inda said nothing. In a few minutes, she drifted away and began asking Fen about the instrument he was using to measure the artifact’s light refraction, asking whether it was made of brass or copper, and how cold he thought it was in the dungeon, down to the specific degree.
Archie became visibly agitated as this went on, to the point where Ru was forced to take him aside under the guise of adjusting one of the lamps near the far end of the room. Her own warning echoed in her mind — they must control their emotions around the artifact. And even though Archie appeared calm enough to those who might not know him, Ru could tell he was cultivating a rage.
“Arch,” she said in a low voice, when they were mostly out of earshot of the Children, “pull yourself together.”
“How can I?” he hissed. “These reprobates won’t let us work without peppering us with inane questions.”
“Figure it out,” Ru said with forced serenity. “They’ll be able to see if we’re upset, and I’d rather not give them a reason to suspect anything… untoward.”
“We’re notdoinganything untoward,” countered Archie.
“And we don’t want them to think we are.”
Ranto appeared suddenly at Ru’s elbow like a ghost; she hadn’t heard him approach. “What are we discussing?” he asked, in a tone that suggested he didn’t care one way or another.
But Ru knew better. “The lighting,” she replied. “Archie and I disagree on… the placing of the lamp.”
“Place the lamp as Miss Delara instructs,” said Ranto, before drifting back to the workstations.
Archie glared at her for a moment, then returned to his own table.
Ru sighed. This research project was going to be even more difficult than she had initially thought. And proving the existence of magic, in a world dictated by science… they were already attempting the impossible.
CHAPTER25
Night hung low and unseasonably gray over the Cornelian Tower. Only through slivers of thick fog could the stars be seen, winking in and out as the clouded sky drifted slowly past. Three lamps and a lively fire burned in Ru’s room, doing their best to drive out the chilling damp. Rainwater dripped restlessly from the eaves outside, emphasizing the cozy warmth within.
Archie lounged across Ru’s bed, one arm bent to prop up his head, light hair tousled from a day of running his fingers through it. The other hand thoughtlessly picked at a loose thread on his waistcoat — his favorite, bottle-green wool with yellow embroidery flowers at its collar. Lamplight drenched him in soft gold, which made him look softer, younger than his twenty-four years.
“And what are you writing now?” he said, a careless tone that Ru knew was a cover for some other emotion. He hadn’t spoken of the night he tried to rekindle their flirtation, and she was all too eager to pretend it had never happened. Though every once in a while, she caught a curl of his lip or a tilt of his jaw that said he was still thinking about it.
But she wasn’t about to let that get in the way of their friendship, and she knew Archie would agree. She sat perched at the head of her bed, cross-legged on the patchwork quilt, a worn wooden lap desk balanced across her knees. They had been trying to write a letter for the past hour, but the parchment unfurled across Ru’s lap was woefully empty, save for a few words.
“Nothing,” she said, resisting the urge to crumple the paper and lob it at Archie’s head. This was the third time he’d asked in a quarter of an hour. “All I’ve written is the salutation, Itoldyou. Are you going to help me think of something useful to write, or just lie there like a lump on a log? I should have asked Gwyn to help me instead.”
“She wouldn’t have come,” Archie said airily. “She’s busy reading up on magic. The lengths we go to for you, Delara.”
“And I’m endlessly grateful, really, but Idoneed to put something in this letter.”
It had been a week since the three Children arrived in the dungeon to oversee the team’s research. Since the first day, Inda, Ranto, and Nell had taken to arriving in the dungeon not long after dawn each day, their pale countenances hovering in the shadows when the rest of the team arrived. And now, even after seven painstaking days of subjecting the artifact to countless pokes and prods and measurements, no meaningful progress had been made.
Lord D’Luc expected an update, a letter detailing the team’s discoveries. And even though there was nothing to report, Ru had no choice — she had to writesomething. Anything. Even if it was pure fiction.
