Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 134898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 540(@250wpm)___ 450(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 540(@250wpm)___ 450(@300wpm)
“It’s not Gwenna. If it helps, she can’t read Old Prellian,” Sparrow offers. “She wouldn’t know what objects are valuable and which ones aren’t.”
“I can barely read Common,” I mutter. “And a thief doesn’t have to look for specific items, I imagine. They just look for shiny ones. Or ones that are easy to grab. You think whoever’s snatching things knows what they’re grabbing? They just know they’re valuable. That’s my guess.”
“But why target you?” Sparrow asks. “Why pick Gwenna to try to get kicked out?”
I shrug, glancing up at Raptor.
“I don’t know. It’s one of many questions we have that don’t have answers.” He shakes his head. “We need information that no one has.”
“Or if they had it, they’re dead now,” I point out.
Both Sparrow and Raptor turn to look at me.
Oh no. Me and my big mouth.
Forty-Two
Gwenna
Rooster is frantic when we arrive at the main guild hall. His clothes are disheveled, there are papers all over his desk, and he tugs at his sash, clearly agitated. “Why is the guild suddenly swimming in bodies? Two in one day? One a current fledgling? Do we need to shut down all the classes for the year? For everyone’s safety?”
Raptor looks over at me and rolls his eyes.
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling, because it’s not appropriate. Rooster isn’t wrong: two people are dead. The situation is indeed quite terrible. But watching him strut about, pulling on his hair and tugging on his heavy, pin-encrusted sash, is practically comical. I’m trying to picture the small, squat man hunting for artifacts in the Everbelow and I just can’t imagine it. Not when there are strong, capable, and delicious Taurians like Raptor.
Of course, I might be biased.
Hawk and Sparrow are in the room with us as we sit in Rooster’s office. The guild master’s work quarters are quite fancy. There are shelves of artifacts and books; a heavy, ornate wood desk; and a painted portrait of Rooster behind a wing-backed desk chair.
I feel out of place, but Raptor insisted I come with him and, again, let him handle everything. What other choice do I have?
“It’s quite unfortunate,” Hawk agrees, pulling up a chair for his wife to sit on. “How is Master Jay taking it?”
“Devastated. Absolutely devastated. He’s thinking about stepping down. He feels personally responsible, you know.” Rooster tugs at one curly end of his mustache.
Poor Master Jay. He’s not the only one who’s devastated, but it hasn’t occurred to me to leave. Then again, I don’t feel responsible. Hemmen wasn’t exactly the king of sound decisions when he was alive. Likely he got caught up with the wrong people. It’s terrible, but it happens. I’m just sad for poor Hemmen. He wasn’t a bad person.
“I’ll talk to him,” Hawk says. “Even if his team is unable to finish out the training year, it doesn’t mean that he should give up. He’s a good teacher. Makes some of the most self-reliant artificers there are, and we need more of those.”
Rooster makes a sound of agreement and sits down again. He picks up a scroll, unrolls it halfway, and then sets it aside once more. He throws his hands up. “I can’t concentrate on anything. I’m terribly upset by all of this. Has anyone heard from the archivists? Are more artifacts missing?”
Sparrow delicately clears her throat. “I’m to tell you that Archivist Kestrel is having the repeaters cross-check the inventory, but nothing further has been reported stolen. That doesn’t mean that items in storage haven’t gone missing, of course. Just that the thefts haven’t been noticed yet.” She turns and looks at me. “Artifacts were only inventoried in the last fifty years or so. Prior to that, there are no records. We have to assume that things in the deep storage weren’t necessarily useful, but we’ve also had reports of Greater Artifacts in our books showing up in holders’ hands without sale records on this end. Somehow, they’re getting these items out of the city without paying for them. This thievery must be stopped. If we can’t figure out how they’re doing it now, it could grow worse. It could destroy the entire guild.”
“I feel that’s a bit extreme,” Rooster says, skeptical.
“Is it? How many artificers do you think will be happy to turn in their artifacts if they know they won’t get paid for them?”
Rooster opens his mouth and then closes it again. His gaze turns to me and his expression grows indignant. He straightens in his chair, angry. “Why is she here? This is a private meeting, and not one we should have with one of our suspects.”
Raptor puts a hand on my arm before I can cringe away or run for the hills. “She’s not a suspect any longer. I cleared her.”
The guild leader isn’t impressed with this simple explanation. “You cleared her? She might be involved. We cannot rule anyone out when it comes to these murders—”