“Yes, we’re all aware,” Archie said, clipping her jovially on the shoulder with a fist. “Good ol’ Ru, our own little Destroyer.”
Gwyneth’s glare could have melted a glacier.
“What?” Archie said. “She needs more laughter in her life.”
“Ofallthe jokes to make.”
“It’s fine,” said Ru, pushing past them, suddenly impatient to get back to her room, back to reading. When she wasn’t working to stop Lord D’Luc and his control over the professors, to stymie his plans for her and the artifact, she felt worse than ever. She could only continue on if she believed, somehow, that she was actively trying to fix what she had broken.
As if she could bring Lady Maryn, the archaeologists, and the King's Guards all back to life. It was too late to save them, but if it were within Ru’s power, she would do whatever she could to prevent more losses.
Ru heard Gwyneth and Archie exchanging hurried, hushed words behind her as she left the library. It was a familiar sound, the murmur of caring friends who didn’t know what to do or how to help.Itisfine, Ru reminded herself as a surge of loneliness took her.You’ll think of a way out.
As Ru came into the hall, Lyr peeled away from the wall and began to follow her. The steel of his chest plate clanked softly as he walked.
“You look like shit,” he said.
“How kind of you.” Ru didn’t bother to look back at him.
“I have news,” he said, his voice low. “You won’t like it.”
Ru turned sharply. “Simon?”
The guard shook his head. “D’Luc. Called me to his office yesterday. Asked me to… spy on you.”
“Hewhat?” Ru stopped in her tracks, causing mild chaos as a cluster of academics nearly collided with her and Lyr and had to veer around at the last second.
Lyr glanced around, presumably for any nearby Children. They were fixtures in the Tower now, come from the palace and seemingly only loyal to Lord D’Luc. Lyr glowered down at Ru. “No need to yell. I’m not going to. Just thought you should know.”
“Wonderful,” said Ru, staring into the middle distance. The Tower had once been a bastion of education and study, free from the societal rules that confined those outside its wall. But for Ru, it was now little more than a prison. The regent was in Lord D’Luc’s pocket, or compromised in some other way. There were no other reasons she would have signed the Tower over to him.
It made sense that Lord D’Luc would want eyes on Ru, to keep her in line. She was an asset, the only one who shared a connection with the artifact, the only one who could use it. But he underestimated the loyalty of Ru’s friends.
“I’ll feed him false information,” Lyr said, leaning down, his voice barely above a whisper. “You can trust me.”
Even though she didn’t need it, the reminder was a balm. “Thank you, Lyr,” she said. “I do trust you.”
They began to walk again toward Ru’s room in companionable silence. Ru had grown accustomed to the guard’s gruff silence, his disapproving grumbles. He was one of the few comforts that remained to her now.
“Do you sleep anymore?” he asked, as they approached the dormitory wing.
She did sleep, but it was restless. Shallow and hot, and full of dreams. They were painful dreams, or tragic ones, or simply re-enactments of events that had already happened and Ru wanted to forget.
“No,” she said. “Not really.”
“You want a strong spirit,” he said. “Knocks you right out.”
Ru paused, considering the possibility of a rum or brandy, her hand on the doorknob of her room. At that moment,Gwyneth and Archie caught up to them, their arms laden with books. They were breathing hard, eyes bright.
“You can’t just run off without us,” Gwyneth said, shifting under the weight of several heavy tomes. “We’re here to help.”
Ru said nothing and unlocked her door, ushering her friends inside. She gave Lyr a small nod, then closed the door behind her.
“Right,” said Gwyneth. “I’ve brought all the books I could find that might explain the professors’ shared state of catatonia.”
“She found two books that mention catatonic states in medical patients,” said Archie, setting down his stack of volumes before he set about lighting a fire in the hearth. “Inpassing, might I add. Because, and Itoldher this—”
“Arch.” Gwyneth cut him off. “Discounting books out of hand just because they’re not scholarly—”
