Chapter 33 Sheuan #2
There. An opening, if she timed things right.
The window this enforcer patrolled back and forth next to was small, the edge of a lantern’s light barely reaching it.
Most people wouldn’t take the chance. But Sheuan was slender and quick.
There was a clump of boulders nearby; she could take cover behind them.
When he had his back turned, she could undo the latch on the window and slip inside.
Before she could change her mind, she crept toward the rocks.
It was this or the executioner’s ax, she reminded herself.
This was a terrible idea. She reached into her pack, pulling out a long, thin piece of metal she’d taken from Mull’s workshop. She stuffed down the fear and the uncertainty, crouched behind a pockmarked boulder, and waited.
The enforcer turned his back. Sheuan darted for the window.
It was close, but each stride felt an age-long endeavor. She kept her footfalls light, making sure she landed on the balls of her feet first, letting her heels softly touch after.
The shutters were tightly closed, a tiny gap between. The piece of metal she’d taken from Mull’s shop barely fitted. Her breath gusted over her hands as she worked, her chest prickling with heat. She had to lift it up, to undo the inside latch. The metal stuck, wedged too tightly.
The enforcer would be turning around soon.
He’d see her. Sheuan swallowed. She had to ignore his presence; she had to focus on what she was doing.
Think. Think! She wiggled the piece of metal back and forth, trying to work it free, to work the latch.
There. Something inside lifted. The shutter swung open. She put a foot to the wall.
A hand grabbed her wrist.
For a moment, all she could do was stare into the eyes of the young man standing there, his other hand on the hilt of his blade.
She flitted through possibilities in her head.
If she tried to fight him, he’d subdue her, perhaps even kill her.
She couldn’t seduce him – there was no set-up for this and she was in worker’s clothes besides.
If she went with him quietly, if she told him who she was, she’d be at the Sovereign’s mercy.
A fourth option sprang to mind. She pulled her hand in, tugging him close, whispering into his ear, “I am a worker at Mullayne Reisun’s workshop.
I’m not here to steal. You must have heard the rumors.
Let me go into this warehouse, let me leave, and I’ll give you his invention.
The one that will save you from restoration. Do you want that?”
He didn’t move, and when she’d counted in her head to five, she knew she had him.
She’d been right, then. Rumors were spreading among not only the nobles and the royals, but the Sovereign’s own enforcers.
Among the commoners. She understood the strategy – doling the filters out in waves, seeing who was willing to do what in order to gain his favor.
But he’d bring Kluehnn down on them all if he wasn’t careful.
The enforcer’s fingers loosened. “Go,” he said quietly.
She didn’t need to be told twice. She pulled herself up and through the window, carefully closing the shutters behind her.
The inside of the warehouse wasn’t lit by any lantern.
Crates were stacked in neat piles, a faint glow emanating from between the wooden slats.
She didn’t try to lift the lids; they were all tightly secured.
Each footstep stirred up dust, the musty smell filling her nostrils.
Several desks sat in one corner, ledgers lined up on a shelf next to them. She leafed through a few of them. Nothing unusual. Nothing strange. Just lists and weights of gems from the crews paid for by the different clans. Accounting of tithes.
This wasn’t what she’d hoped for. Every instinct in her body screamed at her to hurry, to leave, to get out of here before the enforcer lost his patience.
But she had to be careful. She had to be methodical.
Her heart beat a staccato in her chest as she began, painstakingly, to canvass the warehouse.
The stacks of god-gem crates. The desks. The ledgers. Nothing else.
She kicked at the dust on the floor, frustrated.
The dust.
Her gaze found a patch of floor oddly free of dust, except for what she’d tracked over it. Three floorboards. As though someone had wiped them clean. Or had lifted them, letting the dust fall free.
She knelt, feeling around on the ground. These three floorboards didn’t quite sit flush with the others. She pulled out the piece of metal, wedged it between the boards, and with a soft creak, the wood lifted.
A hollow space existed beneath, a dark hole lit by a faint blue glow. Sheuan lifted the other two boards, trying to keep the movements quiet.
A set of stairs disappeared into the hole. She knew the buildings of Bian had been built on the ruins of others. The Shattering had destroyed many of the old cities, and no one had bothered to rebuild them. They’d simply built on top of them, slowly burying the past.
She descended, feeling her way to each stair before putting her weight on it.
The blue glow was stronger at the bottom.
Her eyes quickly found the source – a box on a table, the lid slightly cracked.
She couldn’t tell without a lamp how large this space was, or what else it contained.
So she went to the box and opened the lid.
It was filled to the brim with glowing blue god gems.
He was still smuggling gems. Sheuan thought of her father, his star anise scent, the smudge of ink on the side of his hand, his quiet consideration of each problem the Sovereign had set him to.
He wouldn’t have cared about this. If he’d known, he would have simply looked the other way.
The use of god gems by mortals wasn’t legal, but it was common enough among the clans.
Her father wouldn’t have risked his life over something like this when he himself had purchased black-market gems to sow in their fields, to help the crops grow.
She picked up a handful of the gems, holding them aloft like a torch. Their light pierced the darkness, showing her a large room hewn from stone, pillars holding up the floor above. There were ledgers down here too, and a row of empty cells, metal-barred doors hanging open.
And there, in the opposite corner, was an altar.
She crept toward it, a deer drawn inexorably toward a wolf.
There was only one god – one true god. It was the bargain Tolemne had made with Kluehnn, long ago – one the mortals kept so that restoration could save them all.
Worship of other gods wasn’t just illegal; it was forbidden.
She knew it happened sometimes, desperate people who hewed to old ways.
And her education had included mention of the elder gods, just so she would know.
There were still buildings that had their faces stamped on the endcaps of roof tiles.
The seven elder gods stared back at her from the carved altar – Barexi, Ayaz, Rumenesca, Irael, Nioanen, Lithuas, and Velenor.
Sticks of incense stood in front of each image.
She leaned in close. Only five had been lit, and recently, the pungent scent drifting toward her as she examined the ashes.
For Barexi, Rumenesca, Irael, Nioanen, and Velenor.
Those for Ayaz and Lithuas remained pristine.
What did it mean? This seemed to be proof of worship.
If the Sovereign worshiped the old gods, did that mean he had learned from a god how to use gems?
A chill settled into her chest. This was certainly information he could have executed her father for.
If her father had leaked it, the Sovereign would have faced Kluehnn’s justice.
She was running out of time. The evening was young, but dinner would begin soon, and she could only think of so many excuses. She rushed back up the stairs, replaced the floorboards, and returned to the window. The enforcer was waiting beneath it when she opened it.
“Here.” She stuffed one of the filters from her satchel into his hand. “Tell no one.”
And then she was off into the night, her mind reeling.
She found an alleyway as soon as she returned to inner Bian, stripping off the worker’s clothes and leaving them in a refuse pile.
The tunic and pants she wore beneath were simple, but still of fine enough quality that she wouldn’t be questioned on her return.
The streets of inner Bian were emptier now, all the lamps in the buildings lit.
She hurried back toward the castle. She could leave a letter with her mother about the warehouse, the altar beneath the floorboards.
If the Sovereign threatened to execute her, she’d still have that information, held somewhere else, ready to be released.
She had to be measured about this. She had to be smart.
She turned the last street toward the castle and nearly ran straight into an entourage.
“Well, this is a surprise.” The Sovereign stood behind two stone-faced enforcers, his dark eyes raking over her. In spite of his words, he sounded not the least bit surprised. “My wife, in the streets of Bian, at night, by herself. What exactly would you happen to be doing here?”