3. Chapter Three
Chapter Three
Kya
“ U don’s balls, Kya. You look like shit,” Malina greeted me as I entered the upper dormitory levels of Morah.
She was sitting on a chair, picking at her long nails.
She jumped up and approached me with a smirk on her olive-skinned face.
Her black hair swayed behind her as she walked, stopping directly before me with her bare arms crossed over the low-cut top of her expansive chest.
“Nice to see you too, Mal,” I replied dryly, unable to stop the corners of my mouth from lifting into an amused smile.
I crossed my arms to match her stance. Being the same height, our eyes were level, and I raised a brow.
“You know, one of these days, the God of Mischief is going to come down here and smack you in the face with those balls of his if you keep cursing them as much as you do.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “Like I’d oppose a God’s sack in my face.”
I snorted and couldn’t help my widening smile. I missed her snarky personality.
She smiled with a grimace. “I’d hug you after not seeing you for nearly a month, but you smell like horse shit and look like you’ve been lying in the dirt.
And why is there blood on your leathers?
” My sister—of a sort—never missed an opportunity to give me a hard time.
While we had no familial relation, we were sisters of the heart.
Just like Nikan was our brother. Where we came from, family was much more than blood.
“I have been lying in the dirt. And I’ll explain the blood later.
First, I need a hot bath.” I realized I must have been quite the sight, with dried mud and blood on my clothes and my hair fraying out from my braid.
Annoyed with the state of my hair, I reached up and attempted to pull a stick out of the tangles—a pointless effort until I could properly bathe.
Her smile fell, and she dropped her arms to her sides. “That’ll have to wait. Eamon said he needs to see you once you arrive.”
Disappointed, though not surprised, I nodded my head. My mission was only complete once I’d delivered his package, but usually, I had time to at least clean up.
“Alright. I’ll at least change first. I’m not walking into a High Scholar’s office with blood on my clothes.”
“Probably a good idea.” Malina laughed—a lighthearted sound like music to my ears. I began walking toward my room, and she stepped beside me.
“What are you doing?” My eyebrows bunched together as I looked at her while we walked to the hallway leading to the bedchambers.
“I’m bored. I don’t have anyone to talk to, and I want to hear about the job,” she said with a peppy tone and an innocent smile on her pink lips.
“Where’s Nik? He should have been back by now.
He left a week before I did.” I glanced around the shared space with reading chairs and a hallway off the side leading to the small kitchen and dining area.
My concern wasn’t just for his well-being, but also because I wasn’t exactly eager to face him again after our spat the last time we saw each other .
“Relax, Kya. He’s in Bhara.” Malina rolled her eyes, mistaking my concern for the missing male of our trio as we entered my room at the far end of the hall.
I put down my pack by the door, audibly sighing with relief, and walked across the sitting area into my bedroom. Malina plopped into a chair by the black glass wall overlooking the city, slumping against the cushioned arm.
“Why is he in Bhara?” I called out from my room.
The city of Bhara wasn’t far from Ilrek, about two days’ travel on foot to the other side of Riyah, but it wasn’t a place wards of the Scholars frequently traveled to. The Central Temple, home of the Council of Sages, relied on the guidance of Spirits rather than knowledge written on parchment.
“Who knows. Some political issue between the Scholars and Sages. Knowledge versus faith and all that. More like a pissing contest if you ask me. Eamon thought it would be better if Nik went to deal with them rather than any of these stiff, old males.” Malina stated, sounding utterly bored with the conversation, as I pulled clean clothes from the wardrobe.
“Fair point.” I couldn’t argue with that logic. Sages and Scholars rarely agreed on anything, but both were part of the Riyah government.
I removed my leathers and put on light-colored trousers and a matching sleeveless top, tying it at the bottom. I grabbed a pair of slippers, headed back into the sitting area, and put them on before I walked over to my pack to pull out the book.
“What’s this one?” Malina stood up and gestured with a jerk of her chin to the wrapped book in my hands.
“Some history of the Hanyo family. It’s old and brittle, so I didn’t try to mess with it too much.” With the book tucked into my side, I headed out the door, Malina following close behind.
“Hanyo? One of those old families of Ulrik?” Malina asked .
“Yep. Nou Hanyo was the first to be gifted with water abilities.” It seemed fitting that he became Lord of Ulrik, half covered in ice and snow and with some of the coldest temperatures on the continent.
“Wonder how it got all the way to Lublad. What would anyone want with it? Is it really worth anything on the market?” she muttered as we went down to the lower levels, to Eamon’s study. Our soft steps were quiet on the rugs covering the floor.
“I don’t know.” I pondered this as well, but after retrieving hundreds of lost or stolen books and tomes for years, I quit asking questions as to their value of thieves. All I knew was that the Lords and Ladies would rather start wars than see their Nation’s histories in the hands of other rulers.
And the last thing we needed was another petty war.
As we approached the High Scholar’s study on the fifth level, I turned my head to Malina. “I’ll find you later and give you the details.”
She nodded with a cheerful smile before heading back up the stairs. I took a deep breath and knocked twice on the thick wooden door, ready for this too-long mission to be over.
“Enter.” Eamon’s voice boomed from the other side, and I opened the large double doors.
Being a High Scholar, the overseer of the Morah Library, meant that Eamon had the largest study of the Scholars, the walls lined with shelves full of books and scrolls.
A sitting area was positioned to one side with enough space for the entire council, all fourteen of them, with a sizeable plush rug in the center.
The other side held a large table with documents and books scattered about for his research, and at the back of the room sat Eamon’s sizeable mahogany desk with two upholstered chairs in front of it.
Eamon was hunched over on the other side, writing while deep in thought and glancing at his notes.
I sat in one of the chairs, one leg crossed over the other and the wrapped book in my lap.
I knew better than to interrupt him in the middle of his thoughts, so I waited patiently—giving him the respect he’d earned over the centuries.
I forced myself to remain calm and rationalized that there was no chance that Eamon would have heard about the trafficker yet.
After a few moments, he looked up at me with big blue eyes.
His lips widened into a warm smile, and his eyes softened.
A hint of wrinkles was forming around his eyes and mouth with his age.
He stood and walked around the desk, his arms opening for an embrace as I stood from the chair, placing the book on the desk and accepting a welcoming hug, a smile of mine forming on my lips.
I missed him as much as I missed Malina.
His usual scent of parchment and ink, mixed with the musty smell of books, flooded my nose.
“Kya,” Eamon breathed with a sound of relief. He stepped back, his hands on my shoulders, looking me up and down. “You look well! And I see that you were successful in your journey as always,” he beamed with pride.
“I was. The book was in Gaol, as I suspected,” I said with a nod.
Gaol, the Nation located at the southern end of the continent, was known for its dark market of smuggled items. His eyes glinted excitedly as he released me and turned to grab the book, unwrapping it from the cloth.
“Magnificent,” he said in awe. “Ulrik has paid a handsome price for its retrieval. To stay here, of course.” He huffed a small laugh.
“Lord Hamal tried to get out of that particular condition, but ultimately conceded once they realized it wasn’t a negotiation.
If they want to see it, they are welcome to come here, as all are. ”
People contracted jobs through Morah to retrieve items of knowledge lost or stolen.
Payment was given to the High Scholar for the item, which was then used as part of the income to run the place.
The other condition was that the item had to remain at Morah.
The Scholars believed that Nations shouldn’t hoard knowledge and it should be available to all, kept in a neutral location.
The Roav—Malina, Nikan, and myself—were given the jobs and paid a percentage from the Scholars. And we did whatever was necessary to be successful in our missions, and no one questioned us. Regardless of getting paid, it was the least we could do for Morah. We owed the Scholars our lives.
How Eamon was able to let us stay here without swearing citizenship to Riyah was a question that had never been answered.