Chapter 9 Jayne
We headed for the archives bright and early, by which I mean Sin made pancakes and bacon for breakfast while I fed and bathed JJ and got him dressed. Then we ate, got ourselves ready, and finally left.
So not that bright and early, but with a newborn added to the schedule, I thought we were doing pretty well.
Every once in a while, I briefly entertained the idea of enlisting the help of a nanny, but such thoughts only lasted a few seconds. I wasn’t ready to give up a single moment with this sweet child.
Would it make my life easier? Maybe. But then again, probably not if it ended up making me feel guilty.
JJ was strapped to the front of me. One of the gifts that had arrived yesterday was a baby carrier that could be worn in front, sort of like a reverse backpack.
I figured today’s excursion to the archives would be a good chance to test it out and see if it was actually useful or just a pain in the butt.
So far, so good. It was nice having JJ snuggled against me. He seemed to be good with it, too, as he was snoozing. Sin had the diaper bag slung over one shoulder.
The archives weren’t hard to find, but they were housed in the publicly accessible wing of the palace, along with the biggest of the libraries and a long gallery room that displayed a lot of the paintings that didn’t currently have a home in any of the more important rooms of the palace.
It was a bit of a walk that took us past several offices, but the exercise would probably do me good. Sin had added chocolate chips and whipped cream to my pancakes this morning. I thought he was worried about me getting enough sugar.
He certainly knew how to take care of me.
And in the interest of self-care, I was in my maternity leggings and favorite striped maternity T-shirt.
I decided I no longer gave a flying yeti if I wore my maternity clothes beyond the point of being pregnant.
What did it matter? I was dressed, I looked nice, I was comfortable, and if anyone said anything, my husband would happily have a word with them.
Not that they would say anything. I was North Pole royalty. And Sin was a necromancer. Most people knew enough to keep their comments to themselves.
Hmm. Maybe that extra sugar was helping.
This wing of the palace was oddly quiet today, so I was glad when the archives came into sight. Double doors led into them, but one door was propped open. We went inside.
We stood by a tall front desk, staring into the vastness beyond.
Row after row of books and storage boxes lined dark wood shelves that seemed to go on forever.
A green-shaded banker’s lamp lit the desk and a logbook with a pen beside it, but the padded leather chair was empty.
Besides that lamp, the space was pretty gloomy.
I peered down the nearest aisle. “Delton?”
There were crystal and brass chandeliers overhead, but only the ones in the front were lit and not very brightly.
They had to be on dimmers. The low light made it hard to see.
As best I could tell, the aisle went quite a way but then dead-ended in a perpendicular row of shelves.
Shadows swallowed the rest. I didn’t remember the archives being this big.
I shrugged in Sin’s direction. “I don’t see anyone. ”
“He must be out.”
I glanced at the time. It was a few minutes after ten. “Or he’s just lost in one of these rows.”
“They do look like a maze.”
“There’s no bell on the desk or we could ring for him.” A bell wasn’t a bad idea. Maybe I’d mention that to Delton when we found him.
“We could shout, but that seems slightly rude, and we don’t want to upset the man we’re trying to get to help us.”
I slanted my eyes at him. “Or wake up JJ.”
“That, too,” Sin said. “Tell me his name again?”
“Delton Tinselwick.”
“Okay, let’s see if we can find him ourselves. You take one side, I’ll take the other. Oh, and keep an eye out for anything labeled Naming Day. If we find that, we might not even need him. You’re the Winter Princess. I’d assume you don’t need anyone’s permission to view something in the archives.”
I nodded. “I’ve never had a reason to before, but that sounds like a safe assumption to me.”
Sin looked at the wall behind us, near the door. “Any idea how to turn the rest of the lights on? I don’t see a switch.”
“Neither do I. And more lights would be helpful.”
“Would it have killed them to put in a few windows?”
“Archives,” I said. “Sunlight is bad for documents. I learned that when I interviewed him.”
“Ah. Right.” He went around behind the desk. “No switches I can see. Hang on.” He ducked down, I heard some rummaging, then he popped up again with a flashlight. “This is better than nothing. You take it, and I’ll use the light on my phone.”
“Okay, thanks. Let’s see what we can find.”
We separated and started our search. I kept one hand on JJ’s back. It had been years since I’d been here, but I really didn’t remember the archives being so enormous. Had there always been this many rows? And this many artifacts? At least the boxes and books seemed to be labeled.
Although some just had a season and a year. Winter 1782 really didn’t tell me much. I moved my hand to cover JJ’s head. In case of what, I didn’t know, but I wanted to be prepared.
A few yards down and the aisles seemed to close in, absorbing what light there was. I flicked on the flashlight and made my way forward, checking titles as I went. Some of these books and file boxes looked so ancient they seemed on the verge of deterioration.
There was no sign of Delton, and I couldn’t hear Sin, but he had to be in here somewhere. Dust motes danced through the flashlight’s beam, and I caught sight of a few errant cobwebs near the ceiling.
The lack of cleaning in the archives bothered me a bit, but if I remembered anything about Delton, it was that he wasn’t the most welcoming elf in town. Even toward me, he’d been rather begrudging. As if he was doing me a favor by letting me interview him.
Maybe he didn’t let anyone in here to clean. Or at least, not often. That much seemed apparent. Although there wasn’t a speck of dust on the books. Those, he obviously cared about.
When I’d interviewed him, he had acted as if the archives were his domain and his alone. Part of me understood. This was his life’s work, and before that, it had been his father’s. He considered it his family obligation.
Wasn’t the first time I’d seen that sort of sentiment in the North Pole. Like Sin had said, people tended to stay at their jobs a long time. And they also tended to follow in the footsteps of a parent.
Generational jobs were nothing new here. I was a prime example of that. Someday, I’d take over the throne from my father, who’d taken over the throne from his father and so on. I smiled down at JJ. He’d be king, too, someday.
Which was crazy to think about.
A swath of light cut through the shelves some distance ahead of me. “Jayne?”
Sin sounded miles away, making me think that the books were absorbing sound as much as they were absorbing light.
I answered as loudly as I dared, my hand covering JJ’s exposed ear in the hopes of keeping him asleep. “I’m here.”
I walked toward the light, but as I turned the corner, the light was suddenly on the other side of me. “Sin?”
“I think we crossed paths.”
At least he sounded closer. “We did. Did you find something?”
“Yes, a book titled Naming Day Protocol. I wanted you to tell me if it’s anything. Stay where you are and shine your light up like a beacon. I’ll find you.”
“I don’t think that’s going to help us.” I stopped walking and did as he asked. The air above me was crisscrossed with elegant truss work. Above that, the ceiling was painted with a mural of blue skies and soft white clouds. Pretty, but seemed like a waste if Delton never turned all the lights on.
Sin’s light bounced through the shelves until it appeared farther down the aisle in front of me. “There you— Argh!”
The light shot across the books as it sounded like he stumbled and fell.
“Sin!” I wrapped one arm around JJ and rushed forward, but Sin was already shining his phone back toward the way he’d come.
I sucked in a breath, not wanting to believe my eyes. A body lay in the aisle between us.
And it looked very much like Delton Tinselwick.