39. Saige
Saige
When I regain consciousness in Archer’s arms, we’re on the high street in Hanniel and evening has fallen.
“Welcome back,” his voice vibrates against me.
I wriggle in his hold, waiting for him to set me down, but he doesn’t, he holds me firmly, his bare chest warm against my cheek. “How long was I out?”
“The whole day. You barely stirred.”
“I fainted… but there was no pain. It wasn’t one of my episodes.”
“No, this was different,” Archer tells me. “The Confluence sent out a pulse of magic, and you reacted badly to it. At least, that’s what I’ve gathered. Only moments later, we were attacked by mirudytes. Malevron was indeed lying in wait for us. But we managed.”
“What about Grim? Where is he?” I twist in his hold, craning my neck and praying that I see Yevna’s greatest love trotting alongside us.
“He’s fine. I brought him through the portal with us. I imagine he’s run ahead to find Yevna. I assume he knows the way.”
A wave of relief washes over me, and gratitude. “You can put me down now. This is it here.”
The sign of the Awl and Cradle swings in the night breeze, the sign in the window reading, Closed. “Booked” until further notice. I have never been gladder to see it. Untouched and as I left it.
“I know.” Archer carefully lowers me to the ground. “This is where I first saw you, remember?”
I swallow the lump in my throat as I set the key to the lock and let us inside, the comforting scent of leather and hibiscus welcoming me home. “I remember.”
It’s a surreal sight to behold—the enormous famous Azkari general entering the bindery, still shirtless, I might add, but for my satchel slung across his chest, and his own pack on his back.
It seems smaller with him inside.
After all I’ve seen, I can’t help but watch him, feeling as though I understand him a little better now. He turns his back to examine the front part of the shop. “Good gods, Grayson, what have you done to these poor plants?”
Admittedly, the potted flowers are in a bit of a state—dried up and dead, if I’m completely honest. “Leo was the green thumb,” I tell him, placing my keys on the hook and making sure the door sign is still flipped to Closed.
“I know they look awful, but I can’t bring myself to throw them away just yet. ”
Archer is moving from pot to pot, rubbing the soil between his fingers with a thoughtful expression. “He seemed like a good man.”
“The best.” I smile sadly, placing the wrapped-up Confluence on my workstation before moving about the bindery to light the lanterns and the wood burner, feeding the fire logs from the basket so the shop becomes warm and toasty.
The lanterns are lit in the metalwork shop across the road, but I doubt it’ll be Raven at the bellows tonight.
I hope wherever she and Yevna are, that Grim has found them and is watching over them.
There is an uneasy feeling in the air, a shifting of sorts that I can’t place.
I find the pile of envelopes on the counter—outstanding invoices from suppliers, written warnings from Thorne’s debt collector, and a drafted deed to the bindery.
I lean on the wooden surface and rest my head in my hands.
I am drowning in dues. I have been for a long time, but it’s Leo’s life’s work on the line now because of me.
And with me having spent so much time away from the bindery, I’m also drowning in overdue projects. Shit.
It’s going to be alright, I tell myself. I’m close to completing the bargain with Archer, and when I do, I can return to the shop, work overtime, catch up. I’ll even accept the offered help from Raven. I will not lose this place. I will not lose myself.
I turn the Azkari who’s watching me closely. “Do you want a tour?”
“Later.” Archer’s attention is fixed on the magical book.
“We need to know what we’re dealing with here.
The mirudytes showing up at the temple tells me that time is not on our side.
Word will spread that the Confluence has been liberated.
There will be a price on its retrieval, and all the while Malevron grows stronger. ”
I approach my workbench where the book in question sits, wrapped in the torn fabric of Archer’s shirt.
I’ve never seen a book in such a state before, but from the bare bones that I saw, it was once a thing of true magnificence.
I’d expect no less from the Azkari. I wish I could have seen it in its original form.
Who knows if I’ll be able to do it a mere fraction of justice.
I refer to the notes I made in the temple about its condition, and I sift through mine and Leo’s tools for the most appropriate options for such a fragile tome: a cradle, a cobbler’s hammer, binder’s thread, rulers, brushes and paring knives.
I really don’t want to have to remove the adhesive from such a delicate book, but it might be required if I’m to salvage the rest. Leo loved a full leather rebind.
He would spend hours and hours on a single title, longer if he had any say about it.
“It’s not the best light at this time for delicate work, but we should be able to get a rough idea of things and then I’ll start the restoration at dawn.”
“Keen for our bargain to be over?” he asks lightly, his gaze dropping to my lips.
“I just like a challenge, General.”
His mouth twitches to the side, his eyes bright with amusement. “So I’m learning.”
Pulling on a pair of soft white gloves, I slowly start to unwrap the torn fabric from the Confluence. I take great care, concerned that delicate pieces might have fused to the material and that I’ll rip something in the process. With a shaky breath, I place the book in the cradle, still closed.
The lettering of the title is faded, but from what little remains I can just about make out the dialect. “This is the ancient tongue of the Weave, isn’t it?”
He doesn’t deign to reply, but a muscle feathers in his jaw and then it’s gone, his expression neutral.
Ignoring his strange change of mood, I run a gloved finger over the title I can’t read. “I can feel its magic. It’s like it lingers just beneath the surface.”
“It does. But my understanding is that the book needs to be fully restored before utilizing that power is possible. How long do you think it will take? To get it back to its original condition?”
“Original condition?” I balk. “You never said original condition—”
“I said restore.”
“Yes, restore—and I promised to do that to the best of my ability, but… This was made by the Azkari. There are materials here that I couldn’t get my hands on in a million years. Take the edges for example.”
He frowns, peering down at the pages. “What about them?”
“They’re gilded. The edges of the signatures have been sanded down and a gold foil has been applied. It’s faint but it’s there. Does it look like I have gold foil on hand for a job like this? Let alone gold that came from an Azkari territory?”
“I can get you the coin for it.” He misses the point entirely.
I massage my aching temples. “It’s not about that.
This gold for instance, do you know where exactly it came from?
Is there a place in the realms where gold is revered?
What about the ribbon? See how it’s frayed there?
It makes me think it was weighted by a bead or a trinket of sorts.
How are we meant to know what that was? It’s one giant puzzle, Archer. And we don’t have half the pieces.”
“It will credit the artisans in the pages within,” he says slowly.
“Well what good is that if neither of us can read the text?”
He scratches the stubble at his chin for a moment. “You can’t recognize any of the materials by sight? From your previous work?”
I brace myself against the desk. “The leather looks like calfskin to me, and the boards of the cover likely beech—from the House of Reveries if I had to guess.”
“What about the gold? For the edges you mentioned?”
I sigh. “There’s a place in the mountain, a volcano. It might be from there? But if you think I’m setting foot in a mountain made of lava, you have another thing coming—” I cut myself off. “Actually, there’s somewhere I might be able to find some of these things.”
Archer gives me a skeptical look.
“The Underhill Exchange. They’ve got all manner of illegal—unofficial substances there. I’ll make a list.”
“The place you went to with Leo?”
“The very one, General.”
“And what of the rest of the book? How long will it take you to fix?”
“That’s like asking me how long a piece of string is.”
“How long is this piece of string, bookbinder?”
“A few weeks, at least,” I guess.
“We don’t have a few weeks. The longer it is here, the more at risk you, your friends and your business are. The longer we take, the more likely that Malervon will send his hunters after us to steal the book, to abduct you… That can’t happen.”
“I understand the risks, Archer, and I’ll do everything I can to mitigate them.”
But he presses on. “If he got his hands on you again… He won’t let you slip through his fingers a second time. He would brand you; he would make you a slave. He would use you and the book to take over all of Lorevael.”
“I can’t rush this process, Archer,” I tell him. “Not if you want the Confluence properly restored. Are there not other measures we can take to add security and protection while I work? Can you veil the shop? So it looks closed from the outside? Can we hire guards?”
“A veil can only do so much. As for guards, I trust no one with this.”
“You’re going to have to trust someone eventually.”
Archer rakes his hands through his hair. “That hasn’t worked out well for me in the past.”
“Me either,” I say. “But we’ve got this far, haven’t we? So let’s get started. I’ll need time to review and catalogue the book’s issues before I can start in the morning.”
“You should eat and drink something first. You can’t repair the Confluence if you faint from lack of sustenance.”
“I’m fine.”
“Well, I’m not. I’m fucking starving, so either watch me eat or join me, Grayson.”
“I’m afraid I’m fresh out of supplies here,” I tell him.
He’s already striding for the door. “Leave it with me.”
“You might want to buy a shirt while you’re at it!” I call after him. I hear his chuckle as the door closes behind him.