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)
“Write the king if you must,” Raptor says.
I clench inside. Oh gods, the king. Why not just put the stake up in the center of the plaza right now?
“But be sure to point out how many artifacts have been stolen and how many students have been killed while you do so.” Raptor gets to his feet. “Give him all the details.”
Rooster shoots him a look of pure venom.
Maybe this isn’t such a crazy idea after all.
“I need to think on it” is all Rooster says, and then the meeting is over.
Forty-Three
Gwenna
Dere Ma,
I bear bad news. One of my fello students recently died and now our Five won’t be allowed to take the tests. I’m going to be a repeeter again. It hasn’t hit me yet. I will probably cry an entire bucket once I move back in with the other maids but for now, I’m managing. I guess I’d better get used to washing windows again. I hope you’re not working two hard. Say a prayer to Asteria for luck on my beehaf. I could use it.
Love, Gwenna
We return to the nest to wait for Rooster’s decision and try to get back to normal.
Except Hemmen is still dead, and our Five is now disqualified. Master Jay is depressed and doesn’t even bother with lesson plans for the rest of the week. “What’s the point? You’ll all be repeaters again, no matter how well you do.”
We’re left to our own devices.
Some of it’s good, I suppose. Raptor’s able to show me affection in front of Kipp and Arrod, and when we get back to the dorm the first night, he grabs my bed and slides it next to his, making one large bed for the two of us. The look on his face dares anyone to say something, but no one does. I think we’re all too focused on Hemmen’s empty bunk.
Kipp tries to get Arrod to practice his swordplay, but Arrod isn’t interested. He mopes in bed during the day and spends his nights at the taverns. Kipp goes with him because he doesn’t want Arrod to be alone, but Arrod is not happy about it.
I offer to go with them, but Raptor refuses. “You and I are staying here in the dorm, because that’s safest right now.”
This continues for three days, until I get tired of looking at Hemmen’s unmade bed. No one’s touched it since that fateful day, and it bothers me to see it in such disarray. The emptiness probably bothers me more, but the maid in me is controlling what she can. I move to his section of the room and begin tidying, first making the bed and then going through his laundry. “We’ll clean it and then send it home to his family,” I tell Kipp. “It’s the right thing to do.”
Kipp thumps his tail in obvious agreement. He dives under the bed to help, and then emerges a moment later. He makes a page-flipping motion and then shakes his head, running around in a circle and then displaying empty hands.
“Hemmen’s books? He had them with him,” I say, the knot catching in my throat again.
It’s not what Kipp is asking, though. He shakes his head at me and points a finger at various spots in the room, making the same page flip motion again.
“He says that Hemmen had a lot more books than what he had with him,” Arrod speaks up, sitting on the bed I’ve just freshly made.
“I know what he said,” I tell him irritably. I’ve known Kipp longer than Arrod has. He doesn’t need to interpret for me. “I’m just thinking.” I glance around the room. Hemmen’s laundry is here, and his pack. His extra boots. But there’s no sign of all the books he kept with him. At any time, there’d be a stack on his bed, always borrowed from the library. Just as laundry was ever-present on Arrod’s bunk, and Kipp’s shell is on his, Hemmen would have dozens of books littered about his personal area. He only took one or two books with him to the tavern that day. Where did the rest go?
“Perhaps Marta took them all back to the library for us,” I finally say. “She likes to read, too.”
“Or maybe whoever killed Hemmen was leaving messages in his books.” Arrod jumps to his feet again, oblivious to the bed he just made a mess of. “He always had them with him, remember?”
Kipp folds his hands against his cheek.
“Right! He even slept with them.” Arrod snaps his fingers and points at me. “And someone wrote that nasty note about Gwenna in the library’s books.”
“You think the librarians have something to do with this?” I ask, surprised. I’m picturing the archivists who work at the guild’s library, and they’re all eighty if they’re a day.
Kipp frowns, then looks over at Arrod.