CHAPTER 10
DAVINA
One month ago
I STILL COULDN’T DRAW A FULL brEATH AS WE WATCHED WHAT REMAINED OF DR. SIRCELEN’S HOUSE BECOME ASHES AND DUST. It was crazy, truly, how little of it was left. Even more so, considering the four of us had been inside less than an hour ago.
Of the towering, sprawling structure that had risen at the edge of the lake, only the metallic steel frame was left, and even that was blackened, falling, or melting amidst the dying flames.
A few pieces of charred wall and brass could be distinguished among the rubble, as well as small shards of glass. Everything else was just black ash.
The hundreds if not thousands of precious books, the many beds furnishing every bedroom, the majestic living room, Sircelen’s patent . . .
All gone in the blink of an eye.
Blood roared in my ears as I tried and failed to assess the impact of what lay in front of my eyes.
There was nothing but smoke and charred wood and metal in my nostrils and throat, but the echoes of that strong liquor scent in the air lingered. I hadn’t given it importance, thinking it a house-trait belonging to someone who indulged too much, but now I wondered.
As Zephyr, Kwabena, Armand, and I stood there, silently watching the smoldering remains of our sole lead, I wondered.
We’ve lost our only clue.
No, I corrected. Someone has erased our only clue. And unless the timing had been the most incredible of coincidences, they’d tried to erase us right along with it.
My head snapped to the side, only to find Zephyr’s eyes already on me, narrowed.
Even though Armand had been the one to give the alarm, I knew it hadn’t been him to start the fire.
He was a player and an unbearable smartass most of the time, but I knew for a fact he was a great centurion who wouldn’t have compromised the mission.
Not to mention Zephyr and I might not have made it out on time if it hadn’t been for his warning.
I highly doubted Kwabena would have risked himself given his condition.
Armand had been supporting half of the sergeant’s weight when they came down the stairs, leaving the blazing flames behind. That left . . .
My gaze travelled to the stern, cagey captain pinning me with his glare, and glared right back.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought that was accusation mirrored in his eyes.
The urge to defend myself burnt on my tongue as much as the acrid scent in the air.
I bit back that need. Just as strong was the urge to throw accusations around, and much, much smaller, that to keep them contained.
It didn’t make much of a difference, for I suspected the captain could still see them in my eyes. A warning flashed in his gaze as he turned towards me fully, dwarfing me with his frame.
“You’ve got something to say, Lachlan?”
My lips peeled back. “I assure you, Kentar, that—”
“Let’s all calm down.”
The coppery head of a snake appeared between my chest and Zephyr’s, startling me both because of how unexpected it was, and because I hadn’t realized I’d gotten so close to the Kobrant captain. The dying flames cast orange light over his profile, further sharpening his features.
His nostrils flared, but he didn’t back down or tear his gaze away, so neither did I.
“Zeph,” Kwabena said, a warning note in his voice. “This is not the place or the time for this.”
A muscle in Zephyr’s jaw ticked, and he held my gaze for a breath longer. But then his eyes fell to his companion and he seemed to deflate a bit. “Fine.” The line of his shoulders remained tense as he walked away.
The sergeant’s baton returned to his side, and when I met his gaze, shame burned in my stomach. He was right. We’d all been struck by the fire, and nerves were running high. The best course of action was for the four of us to return to the house.
For better or worse, there was nothing else for us to do here.
Despite Kwabena’s best attempts at peace, tensions ran high.
Whilst no one seemed to be out for blood with accusations anymore, conversation did not flow.
Spirits were low as we all absorbed the hit that this was for the case.
Yes, we hadn’t found anything during our search, but we’d barely had time to scratch the surface.
The four of us sat in the quaint candle-lit living room, frustration pooling in the silence like meat gone foul. I could feel the disappointment knotting tighter in my gut with every passing moment.
This can’t be it.
It couldn’t be the end. If we gave up now, what was stopping Kobra or the Sapless from searching every square foot of this sun-blasted continent until they found the stash?
Absolutely nothing. It made for a damn good reason for the captain to have been the one who set that fire.
To scare us off. To make us think there was nothing else here.
My tongue itched with the urge to pose the accusation, but I bit it until it subsided. The metallic tang of blood hit the back of my throat.
No. We wouldn’t play into the hands of whoever had set that fire, be it the captain or someone else. I wouldn’t quit just because our sole clue was gone.
There has to be something else.
“What now, then?” Armand asked. His eyes were serious and narrowed in thought, and I hated not having an answer for him. I rubbed my nose and lips in an attempt to push the weariness away. Kwabena was speaking, but I didn’t hear him past the thunder of my spiraling thoughts.
Think, Davina. Think, think, think.
The doctor had clearly been into history and religion. I thought of the hundreds of texts I’d found in the library. Those wouldn’t be found just anywhere. There must be something I can do with that. If we knew where he’d gotten all those artifacts and papyrus—
“Care to share your thoughts with the class?” The words cut through my considerations like a knife through butter.
Not moving an inch, I flicked my eyes up, meeting the captain’s cold, taunting glare. “So that you can burn any evidence away?”
Oh, well. So much for keeping the accusation contained.
The grind of his teeth was audible in the tense silence. The house was so sparsely furnished that every spoken word and sound gained an eerie echo to it. His eyes flashed in a way that had my hackles rising, but I held with teeth and nails onto my composure.
Some tension left the captain’s shoulders before he spoke. I knew not to take it as a lowering of his guard when he cocked his head. “Now that you mention it, isn’t it oddly convenient how the fire started right after you came back to the ground floor?”
Fucker.
My hands balled into fists, and despite my best efforts, when I spoke, it was through half-gritted teeth. “Why on Septune would I want to erase the one clue we can search on an equal footing, when you clearly already have an advantage on everything else?”
“I don’t know, Lachlan. You tell me.”
Armand straightened, as if preparing to intervene, but I did not give him the chance.
I’d fight my own battles, thank you very much.
Raising my chin, I lowered my legs to the ground and leaned my forearms over the rim of the table.
“With all due respect, Captain Kentar,”—never mind the fact that it was none at all— “Centurion Bleuombre and I have been sent here with a goal, and we’re not leaving until it’s accomplished. ”
“I’d advise against getting in her way, Captain,” Armand said through a mocking grimace. “She’s stubborn as a mule.”
I glared at him before returning my attention to the captain.
“The sooner that happens, the earlier we can leave this scorched scrap of a kingdom and resume our lives on the better side of the Prishter Ocean.” I lowered my voice, leaning in.
“Don’t you dare imply that Armand or I are the cause for any hindered progress, ever again. ”
The echo of my words thundered in the room. From the corner of my eye, I noticed both Armand and Kwabena watching me wide-eyed, then turning their attention to the captain.
It was the sergeant who tried to ease the suffocating tension. “Understood, Centurion Lachlan. Apologies for any implied assumption on our side.”
But the weight of the captain’s focus remained unwaveringly set on me. His teeth were clenched so tight that the strain on his jaw was visible even through the beard, a vein in his neck engorged to a point where I wondered if there was a risk of it bursting.
Minutes went by, and the air grew so thick with mistrust and silent threats that it was hard to swallow. Still, the captain watched me like I was a puzzle he was set on solving, and said nothing.
Then, Armand spoke. “So . . . do you have a plan or not?”
I finally tore my gaze away from the captain. “I might.”
“Enlighten us, please?” I recognized Armand’s smirk and words for what they were. He was throwing me a lifeline.
I hesitated for a heartbeat, not sure this was a confrontation I wanted to leave unresolved, but a glance at the captain’s tense frame told me enough. There’d be no peace to be made tonight.
Fine by me.
“The doctor was into history,” I said. “His manor was packed with ancient relics, rare tomes . . .” I stood, pushing a map of the city towards the center of the table. “He must’ve bought all that stuff somewhere.”
Armand’s eyes narrowed, as if trying to figure out where I was going.
“So?” Zephyr’s deep voice verged on exasperation.
He stood as well, prowling closer—too close—until his vest-clad chest nearly brushed my arm.
His scent of jungle and sand invaded my nostrils.
I gritted my teeth. Craning my head to the side, I took him in.
Suspicion still burnt strong in his eyes, sharp enough to raise goosebumps at the base of my neck, but I held my ground.
My voice sharpened, and I pushed my hair behind an ear as I dug a finger into the weathered map, not looking away from him. “Is there anywhere in Kipiramida where those kinds of things can be bought?”
At first, no one spoke. The captain’s gaze didn’t even fall to the map.
Then Kwabena’s voice broke the silence like an owl’s wings slicing through dusk. “There is.”
The captain finally—finally—looked away, and it felt like a suffocating blanket had been torn from my suddenly too-warm skin as he cast his attention on his companion.
“In the lower end of the city there’s a quarter known as Kostrols. It is known for its historians, artists, scientists, revelers and . . . other things.”
“So . . .” Mischief I was too familiar with flashed in Armand’s eyes. “The fun part of the city.”
I ignored him. “What other things?”
Kwabena’s braids shifted as he shook his head, wincing. “It’s quite . . . independent. If rumors are to be believed, like in any prized artisan district,” he said in a lower voice, “there’s amberdust.”
He didn’t need to elaborate. Everyone knew what amberdust was.
The most widely spread drug, some mixture based in laudanum and opium, and a growing problem among the non-inked.
Or at least it was in the Republic. It was safe to assume Kobra wouldn’t be faring much better, given the conditions I’d glimpsed on the less-favored side of the city from the podport earlier.
My focus remained on Kwabena. His last word had been left hanging as if unfinished, and I knew drugs would not be the last of what was to be found in the artists’ neighborhood.
I was rewarded, not a moment later. “And . . . possibly, Kaelthorn sympathizers.”
I stilled, then immediately relaxed my muscles.
It didn’t matter. We were not here for the Sapless.
Unless they’d been the ones to set the fire, a small voice said in my head.
But I couldn’t think of that now. Not yet.
“We go there in the morning,” I said, mimicking the captain’s commandeering tone as much as I could.
“In disguise, we scout the streets and any stalls or shops that the doctor could have frequented to find the clues that we need. There must be places he visited often, people he spoke to. Someone who knows something about his final days, or what he was working on. Something for us to go on.”
Zephyr drew back slightly, spine straightening. I caught it in his eyes, the flicker of reassessment, just before Kwabena voiced it aloud.
“That’s actually quite a good idea, Centurion Lachlan.”