22. All That Geometry Gibberish #2
“The math is sound,” he began. With what looked like reverence, his thumb traced along the edge of the parchment and followed each line of calculation.
Or maybe it was grudging admiration? “I’ve never seen someone solve an equation like that so quickly.
” He talked as if I weren’t two meters away.
“However,” he said with a scowl as his hand dropped away, “it would be unconventional to use any other pole point outside of the northernmost axis.”
“It may be unconventional,” I interrupted, all heads turning in my direction, “but Empyrean monks thrive on new ideas, new theories. It’s the reason more innovations in science have come from the Citadel than anywhere else on the continent.
Replacing the pole with a more relevant coordinate would not have been unusual. ”
“And how do you know so much about what Empyrean monks do and don’t do, girl?” the thin man sneered.
Girl? Love the condescension. Really warms the heart.
“Because I lived with them for almost nineteen years.”
Silence fell on the room. The kind that made the air feel thick. Even the incense smoke suddenly seemed to hang motionless in the shafts of light streaming through the high windows.
I chanced a look at Griffon for the first time since he’d entered the room. He stared at me as he so often does, but the amount of intensity in his eyes made my stomach feel weird and jittery. What was he thinking? Did I make a fool of myself with all that geometry gibberish?
“Very well,” the king finally decided. “Guards, dispatch a detachment to that location immediately. I want that area thoroughly searched.”
Oh, thank the twin gods.
“And you, Miss Wren, will be sequestered until they return.”
Sequestered. That's a fancy word. I'm going to assume it means 'locked up' and not 'treated to a spa day,' but a girl can dream. Either way, I suspected I would finally learn where they had held Griffon all this time.
A guard escorted both of us out of the hall. Griffon walked next to me, staring straight ahead, tension clipping each of his steps. That didn’t seem like a good thing. Shouldn’t he be happy now?
At least my earlier deduction was correct.
The cells were located down the large spiral staircase at the end of the wide corridor with the murals.
But the minor victory felt short-lived as the guard locked the heavy cell gate behind us.
The space was clean and empty, with only a chamber pot in the corner.
Griffon rubbed his wrists where the manacles had been and paced across the cell.
I watched him go back and forth like a churning funnel cloud, rolling his shoulders, chest heaving, waiting for him to decide where he wanted to touch down.
Finally, he whipped his blazing eyes in my direction and stopped.
“Are you insane?”
Well, that’s one way to start a conversation. “Not the last time I checked.”
“You were out of danger. My gods, you were even living in a palace. You could’ve made a life here. Why would you throw it all away?”
“Griffon, they were going to kill you.” I shook my head at how ridiculous he was being. “I wasn’t just going to sit back, eat my baklava, and let it happen.” Though in fairness, the baklava was excellent.
“You should have, Wren.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Now, if they don’t find the headpiece, I don’t know if I can convince them to spare you.”
“You’re right, probably not. But it was worth it.”
“No, it wasn’t!” He looked like he wanted to grab me and shake. Hard.
I leaned forward, propping my hands on my hips. “Yes. It. Was.”
He growled in frustration. “Of all the reckless, self-sacrificing, foolish things to do.”
I watched him pace again, struggling to rein in his anger. But not angry with me, I suddenly realized. He was worried and didn’t know how to handle it. Poor thing. Feelings are hard.
“I did it because I care about what happens to you, Griffon.”
“You shouldn’t!”
“As if you have a say!”
“Have a shred of self-preservation, at least!”
“You don’t get it, do you? Has no one ever had any kind of concern for your well-being?”
Is the house of the queen really that ruthless? I had my sister, and then Frater Andren. What would it be like never to have someone be kind to you, knowing the only reward they would be granted is your happiness?
He stopped then and looked at me. “I just don’t understand why you would risk yourself. For me.”
“The same reason you caught my ankle when I fell out the window.”
“It’s not like I was going to fall out after you.”
“Fine. Then, for the same reason you pulled me up onto the side of that airship gondola.”
“I’m pretty damn agile, Wren. I wasn’t in any risk of falling.”
Oh, for the love of—
I wanted to comfort him. I wanted to care for him. And I also wanted to throw him off that bloody airship.
I threw up my arms in defeat.
“Whatever. I’m done arguing about this. If they don’t find the headpiece, you can be as mad at me as you want—for the entirety of the short time we’d have left.”
He growled and stalked over to the cell wall, sat down against it and propped his arms on his bent knees. His eyes closed as he let his head fall back onto the sandstone wall.
The last time I’d seen him, he was pale and worn out. But now there was color on his cheeks from getting upset. Even the gauze on his arm, which hid the wound that was once mangled and gruesome, was dry and clean.
“You caught me when I fell,” I said quietly. “You carried me up a cliff and held me through a storm. You—” My voice cracked. “You keep saving me, and you act like it means nothing…but it means everything to me.”
He shifted slightly, and his eyes opened, catching mine.
The green in them seemed deeper somehow, as if hearing my words had drawn him closer, even though neither of us had moved.
His gaze didn’t waver, didn’t blink. Then he tilted his head slightly, weighing my words.
I could almost feel him adjusting; the gravity of what I’d said settling across his expression.
An unwelcome flutter rose in my chest.
I looked away, clearing my throat, trying to push away the shifting tide of something I didn’t have words for. Then, unable to stop myself, I said softly, almost to fill the silence, “You…you look better.”
His eyes softened, just enough to betray a flicker of something before he finally replied. “I feel better.” I caught the faint lift of his brow, the way his green eyes held mine a moment longer than necessary. “You look…different.”
I looked down at myself. The simple cerulean blue silk kaftan was sleeveless and cinched with an embroidered sash. My robe had been left abandoned in my quarters. I wrapped my arms around my middle, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
“They did a better job with the haircut than we did.”
His comment drew my eyes to his as my fingers came up to the short strands resting on my neck below my ear.
He had a small smile on his face. “It looks good,” he reassured me. “Come sit down, stargazer. We’re going to be here a while.”
Chuckling softly at the nickname, I settled in next to him, the cool feel of the stone seeping through the thin fabric of my clothes.
“I estimate the location I mapped to be about twenty-five kilometers to the southwest. Through the sand, it could take them close to four hours each way. Depending on the terrain at the coordinates, it may take them a while to search. We have only a little over thirty-six hours.”
He was silent for a few moments. But then replied, “If this goes sideways,” his voice deeper than normal, “we have to convince them you’ve committed no wrongs and that you were just trying to help their kingdom. I don’t believe Faisal will condemn you for that.”
“Well, maybe not for that.” I tried to hide my cringe. He didn’t know how I got Mali’s attention. You know, the whole ‘I know you committed treason’ conversation. Details, details. “This will work, you’ll see.”
“I am grateful, Wren. I just wish you hadn’t done this. You were safe.”
“I had to do something. I couldn’t just let them kill you.”
“But I’m being executed for a crime I committed. I assassinated their king, Wren. I killed Faisal’s brother. This is the consequence of my actions.”
“Faisal is not all that upset about his brother, Griffon. He is using this execution as a victory for himself. To gain the favor of his people. It is not about retribution.”
“Of course it is.”
“No, it’s not.” I took a deep breath and whispered, “Faisal and Mali were behind the plot to kill King Asad. You secured them the kingdom.”
“What? How could you possibly know that?”
“Mali drew the map you used to enter the city and the palace. I was able to trade that knowledge to get an audience with the king about the tapestry.”
“How, in the bloody stars, did you figure that out?”
“Well, mostly it was just assumptions. And girls like to talk.” I held up my pointer finger as I ticked off each one.
“I found out that Mali used to live on the streets and in the tunnels prior to becoming a slave.” A second finger joined the first. “The inscription on the sundial in the courtyard is a dedication to Mali, and on it, Faisal calls her the Queen under the Sun. Which also happens to be the two symbols on the corner of the map.” Third finger.
“There was gossip that Mali was much more than a slave to Faisal even before the king was assassinated, which put her in danger if Asad discovered it.” Fourth.
“And it was only Faisal who had a high enough station to get an audience with Queen Vesna and offer the proposition.”
He was silent as he worked through what that information meant. “They opened up the trade routes in exchange.”
“Yep,” I said, popping the ‘p’.
He shook his head. “You know, that makes sense. I gave Vesna too much credit. So they would trade me for the headpiece if they found it in time?”