Chapter Two

You Still Carry This?

Part Two

~*~

 

 

The main building of the University had been cleared of debris, and all unstable areas fortified with temporary supports. Workmen in helmets and gas masks filed in and out of the building, bringing Artifacts up from the Archive and loading them onto handcarts. These were wheeled across the lawn to a smaller building.

Here, tables had been set across the open grass and a volunteer team of the Queen's Alchemists, faces covered in goggles and cloth masks, worked to clean the Artifacts of dust and package them to be sent to the castle. There they would be given more detailed cleaning and assessed for salvage.

It was bitter work. Most of the Artifacts in the University's holdings were antiques and had already been too fragile to be put to use again. It was difficult to know what many of them even were, as the documentation was lost in the building somewhere, probably destroyed.

Kazia had her own method, of course.

The Artifact before her was visibly distressed – parts were dented and bent, some possibly missing. She brushed the last bit of dust from it, then looked around to make sure no attention was on her at the moment. She placed her hands on each side of the Artifact and brought her face low over it.

“What are you?” she whispered as she tried to feel out the machine's energy, the maker's intent.

There was nothing. Whatever energy had once resided in this collection of gears and wires had vacated. She couldn't even find the beginning of a pathway to follow.

Kazia let out a sound of frustration and swept the Artifact off of the table and onto the ground. She stormed away from the workstation and some distance away pushed her goggles up onto her head and pulled down her dust mask. There really was no clean air to be found near the University, but there was a little less dust away from the clouds being sent up from the cleaning.

“Kazia?”

Tamyn had followed her. He reached out a hand to her shoulder before retracting it at the last moment.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that,” Kazia said. “That one will not be salvageable.”

“We can't know that until we get them back to our labs,” Tamyn said.

“I do know,” Kazia told him. Tears sprang to her eyes as she looked up at the University building, at the gaping ruined hole in its side. “Believe me, it was dead.”

“Perhaps you shouldn't have come,” he said kindly. “We all would understand.”

“No,” Kazia said, shaking her head. “I have to do this, for Eaphan. He would want as much saved...”

“You needn't be here, though,” Tamyn said. “These will all go to your lab from here. That is where you will save them.”

Kazia looked from the ruined University building to the Alchemists' workstation, where Neiphi and Edwis worked together brushing the dust away from an Artifact.

“We are going to lose so much,” she said. “This is all just beginning, and we are going to lose so much more before it ends.”

“Master Ilianus?”

The Librarian, Mister Cardil approached them.

“I'm sorry to interrupt,” he said, his usual cheerful disposition understandably subdued. “Over at the library, there are a few old Alchemical scrolls they'd like you to have a look at.”

“Of course,” Tamyn answered. “Kazia?”

“Go on,” she said, dabbing at her teary eyes with a handkerchief. “I'll be fine here. I'll just go clean up my mess.”

 

 

~~~*~~~

 

 

Yilina lay on a silk upholstered settee, her feet up on one of its arms, holding Kelvaran's watch over her face and tracing a finger along the inscription inside. She closed it quickly and sat up as Prince Gorvan Devratha entered the room without a knock, throwing his fur cloak across a chair and helping himself to her wine.

He was an imposing figure, tall and broad-shouldered, with cold blue eyes and long silver hair. Despite his age, he carried himself with a fierce vigor, maintained through intensive discipline, or perhaps through sheer spite.

“Where is Meratha?” he demanded.

“In the dungeon,” she said. “When is Abrizhen coming home?”

“In due time,” Gorvan answered. “Don't tell me you miss him.”

“When will you announce our engagement?” she asked.

He glared at her.

“When our plans are concrete. Now, what have you gotten from Meratha? What is he planning?”

“He claims that he is only here to win me back,” Yilina said slyly. “It's nice to know I have options if your promises come to naught.”

“Don't be stupid,” Gorvan said gruffly.

“He says that he'll do anything for me... that he'll even pledge fealty to Halany.”

“Can that be believed?”

“He never had any political ambition back then. Unless he's miraculously grown a spine... I think he's honest.”

“That could work to our advantage,” Gorvan mused. “Recognition from the son of Daryan Meratha would seal Halany's legitimacy.”

“But our plans-”

“Our plans depend on Halany's consolidation. Let him do the heavy lifting for us.”

Yilina crossed the room and placed the watch into an ornately cast pewter trinket box before refilling her wine glass and handing it back to Gorvan.

“I may have a better use for Kelvaran,” she said while filling another glass for herself. “Although... it may kill him.”

Gorvan raised a brow, his eyes glinting with a cold humor.

“What are you thinking, my dear?”

Yilina smiled and clinked their glasses together.

“He can help me bring your daughter home.”

There was a long silence.

“How would that work?” Gorvan asked finally.

“You don't want to know, but I suppose it is best that Abrizhen is away,” Yilina answered. “Just leave it with me. Leave him with me.”

“Your loyalty to my son is quite admirable,” he smirked.

“What he doesn't know won't hurt him,” she replied. “Haven't you said so yourself?”

 

~~~*~~~

Gorvan