Prophecy's Promise (Prophecy of the Edges Book 1) (6 page)

Neither acknowledged my question. “Who was it?” Meena asked.

“I am told it was murder, but who ordered it?” He shrugged. “It’s anyone’s guess.”

“I’m not paying for guesses.”

“I don’t want your money. I’m not digging into this one. And you shouldn’t, either.” He wagged a finger at her.

“Why?”

“There are murmurings of White Knights,” Lazurte whispered.

My eyes grew wide at another mention of the White Knights.

Meena scoffed. “Children’s stories.”

“And I’m not telling stories. Can I speak frankly in front of your friend?” he asked. At Meena’s nod, he continued. “I understand that this Shezdon was important to you, but this is too big, even for the daughter of Garth. There’s nothing to be gained by rattling the Weavers. Your place there is too important to everyone.”

“So you won’t help?”

“I am helping. I’m telling you to drop this.”

Meena leaned forward, jutting out her bottom lip. “Please.” Many young men at the Keep would do anything to turn that fake pout into a real smile. In watching her interaction with Lazurte, I finally understood why she never entertained them. It had nothing to do with the marriage matches her father hoped to garner and everything to do with this thief/assassin/whatever. Or guild member, I suppose was the correct term.

Lazurte smiled at Meena then turned to me. “I bet there are tons of stories that our Meena hasn’t told her Keep friends,” he said in a conspiratorial tone.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Meena exclaimed, giggling. I’d never seen her act quite so… silly before.

I leaned forward, putting my elbow on the table and my chin on my fist. “Sounds interesting.”

“For one, I hear that a few minutes ago, she outlasted scores of Warriors at a little game.”

“Stars and Planets!” I gasped. “How did that get to you so quickly?”

“I have my sources,” he said cryptically.

“Then help us!” Meena pleaded.

“If you don’t stop asking, I’ll tell some of those stories,” he threatened with a teasing smile. After a good half hour of rowdy banter, and learning none of the stories, we left Lazurte with about as much information as we’d come with, but far more trepidation as to the depth of the scandal.

On the walk back to the Keep, I asked Meena, “Are you going to give up?”

“We need to search Nazarie’s rooms.”

“No!” I recoiled.

“The prince said it was either Nazarie or Altis. Let’s eliminate her as a suspect. Then we can move on. Altis is too well guarded. Nazarie is the best first step.”

“She’s not a suspect,” I bristled.

“I don’t think she is, either,” Meena assured me. “But this is our only lead.”

In the end, I relented, and that is how we ended up outside of Nazarie’s door. I stood lookout while Meena wove against the lock, very tentatively to prevent setting off Nazarie’s anti-break-in tapestry. The lock wasn’t very good since Nazarie never expected to need it. After all, no one in their right mind would break into the Lead Scholar’s chambers.

“Psst,” Meena hissed, motioning me over to her. I followed her inside. Shadows swallowed the room, retreating from then advancing on the light cast from the garden lamps from outside Nazarie’s window. “You look through the desk, and I will search the cabinet,” Meena said.

“I am only doing this to help prove her innocence,” I repeated for the thousandth time, but then set to the task of riffling through my aunt’s things. The documents were what I would expect: the budget for the library, various papers awaiting Nazarie’s approval, and a handful of disciplinary committee documents. And at the bottom of the stack, one that read, “Nazarie Troubade’s Will: Hailey Troubade Heir.”

“There’s nothing over there.” Meena tiptoed over to me. “Hey, what’s wrong? Did you find something?”

I pressed the document gingerly between my fingers. Tears welled up in my eyes. I had not protected my aunt from the accusations that had come her way. Instead, I’ve invaded her privacy. She saved my life; she’s always been supportive of me. She wanted to make me her heir.

“Oh,” Meena murmured, seeing what was in my hand.

“There’s nothing here,” I snapped. “Let’s go.” I picked up the stack of other papers and buried Nazarie’s will underneath them.

“Wait.” Meena seized the library budget from my hands. She scanned it, cocking her head to the side and knitting her brows. “Something looks funny.”

“Yeah, we look funny. Crazy! I never should have come here!” I hissed as I put the papers back into her desk.  I then went to the cabinet to help Meena finish.  I noticed a very old dagger, or perhaps short sword, depending on where the demarcation line between dagger and short sword was drawn.  I picked it up.  It was heavy for its size, maybe 15 inches in length and it taper to a rounded point.  It’s grip was unremarkable with a small pommel. But the Fortifications wrapped around the blade were beyond ancient. I could feel that, while it was very Fortified currently, at one point in time it had been more Fortified than anything else I’d ever come across. The etchings that covered the wide blade looked remarkably similar to the characters in Shezdon’s book.  And that wasn’t the only thing familiar about it.  “I’ve seen this before,” I whispered.

“Of course you have.  It’s in your aunt’s rooms.”

But that wasn’t it.  I’d seen it a long time ago.  Like in a dream.  Not an Apparition.  And not really a dream. Something almost tickled my memories. I couldn’t place it. The locks on the door clicked a warning, promising visitors. Meena put her finger to her mouth and motioned to a table covered by a cloth. I closed the cabinet doors as quietly as I could. We huddled together beneath it, the dagger still grasped in my hand. The cream-colored tablecloth blanketed us from view, but it was sheer enough to let me see two shadowy figures enter the room.

“It’s Hailey’s choice.” I heard my aunt’s voice.

“But if you could talk to her, persuade her,” Adine pleaded. “She’s not safe with Altis.”

“She’ll be safer with Altis that she’d be here,” Nazarie said. “Besides, that’s not what I wanted to talk with you about. Some of your fellow ambassadors have been saying that Shezdon’s death was no accident.”

Nazarie’s voice came closer to our table. I grasped Meena’s hand. The table above our heads swayed gently. I’d seen this rickety old thing knocked over more than once. Nazarie kept saying that she would replace it, but never got around to it.

Nazarie continued, “I only want to make appropriate inquiries, of course.”

“Of course,” Adine echoed.

“Is there anything that you have learned?”

“Shezdon Lacour was an old man.”

“Old age isn’t the only cause of death.” Nazarie’s tone was the same when she proposed a logic puzzle. “You have no other theories?”

“None.”

“You aren’t a very creative man.”

“I think the most obvious answers tend to be the best ones.” A chair scratched the floor. “But, please, do talk to your niece. Dybreakea would be forever in your debt.”

“I’ll think on it,” Nazarie promised. For a moment, I worried that she would stay in the room and that Meena and I would be trapped beneath the table all night. But then two sets of footsteps moved toward the door.

“After you,” Adine said, and a few moments later the door clicked shut.

Meena sighed. “Thank the gods and Guardians.”

I scrambled out from beneath the table. My foot caught on one of the legs and the table tumbled to the ground. I waited for a moment to see if Nazarie or Adine had heard the noise, but they did not return.

“I
told
you Nazarie had nothing to do with it.  What a waste of time,” I muttered

“This was not a total waste.  Adine knows something.”

I replaced the dagger.  The longer that I’d held onto it the more positive I’d become that it was nothing special and I had in fact never seen it before.  The lettering must have been what jogged my memory. And it wasn’t terribly odd that Nazarie had a dagger with a forgotten language on it.  She was the Lead Scholar after all and she loved ancient artifacts.

I left the room, not even waiting for Meena to follow and went directly to the library. I needed to get some space. I was such a horrid niece. It wasn’t Meena’s fault. She didn’t know Nazarie like I did. I should have convinced her to leave well enough alone. Nazarie couldn’t have been involved at all. I tried to convince myself that I felt that way. But it didn’t work. I was mad at both myself and Meena. Meena for getting me to doubt Nazarie and myself for following along.

Thankfully, Meena didn’t follow me to the library. Altis had mentioned researching a bit more on the geography disparities between the land near The Edge and the central continent, and I wanted to be prepared for any conversation. Aleza smiled and waved then resumed her filing. I walked back to the geography section. Since it was near the section on The Edge, I’d been in this wing of the library quite a bit over the past several days. After retrieving several books, I went over to one of the immense wooden tables. A gaggle of students—looking as if they ranged in ages from ten to thirteen— whispered and pointed at me. I recognized a couple who been in my classes so I waved, but they all turned bright pink and resumed their studies.

I turned to my own, flipping through page after page, hoping I’d absorb everything Altis had expected me to. Geography was not exactly my forte. A large thud captured my attention, and I glanced up from my reading to see six Weavers storm through the library. They all wore dark hoods pulled low enough to obscure their faces.

I felt a Mist pattern that could only be from a Fortified. I felt the stings of the Mist forming a very, very dangerous pattern. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I’d never realized that was actually a thing when one sensed danger. Apparently it was.  There was a lot of danger. The pattern being woven wasn’t just deadly, it was murderous.

I Wove, tipping over my table and constructing a full barrier around the children at the next table over. They screamed and huddled together as the Weavers began to throw balls of Mist Lightning at them and at my table. “This is a library for Guardians’ sake!” I shouted.  In all the stars and planets, what cretin would harm books in a library! I felt chagrined for a moment that I first thought about the location of the attack rather than at the fact that children were present so I added, “there are children here!” But the attackers didn’t seem to care. The onslaught continued.

“It’ll be okay.” I shouted to the children. I fashioned together a crude catapult with the Mist and lobbed my own Lightning Balls back at our attackers, but I was outmatched. I couldn’t fully focus on the offensive. Some of my threads had to protect the children. The Mist I pulled began to fray.

I wasn’t going to be able to outlast the attackers

Then I heard thumps and thuds. Sword clanging against sword. The Mist quickened toward the fight, faster and stronger than before. Thank the gods and Guardians. Only a very powerful Weaver could summon that much Mist and I knew the patterns were directed at my attackers. I peeked out from behind my table to see Altis holding a female Weaver in his clutches, shaking her.

“Hailey!” Altis gasped when he saw me, turning his attention from the woman, but maintaining a grip on her, and firm control on the situation. “I hadn’t realized it was you behind there. You saved the children.”

“You saved us all,” I said, shakily. I let my pattern tumble to disarray and checked on the students. They all sobbed and shook, but were unharmed.

“Planets!” Altis cursed.

I stood up, pulling the Mist back to me and reweaving the barrier around the children. But there was no new threat. Altis glared incredulously at the purple foam leaking from the woman’s mouth. Her jaw slacked and her eyes gazed forward like lifeless marbles. Altis slammed the corpse to the ground and motioned to the others, all of whom had purple foam oozing from their mouths. “They’re all dead.”

“Suicide?” I asked.

“No, those ones were unconscious.” He pointed to the five Weavers scattered on the floor. “Someone who wanted to remain anonymous has killed them.” He raked his hands angrily through his black hair. “Where were the guards? This is a nightmare. In the Keep with students present.” He started pacing, ranting. “This is too close to Scholar Shezdon’s death. It will all need to be investigated. And the books! What the planets? It doesn’t make sense.”

I turned around, following the motions of his hands. Every single book on geography and on The Edge had been destroyed. They smoldered, the pages crisped beyond any hope of being read. Thankfully, Shezdon’s book was not brought to the library because it would have been destroyed, too. Even the books that I had gathered were burned. When I tipped over the table, they had scattered across the floor, and the Weavers had burned them up.

“You take care of the children. I’m going to alert my aunt.” He kicked one of the corpses. “I swear if this impacts our trip, I’ll wring the instigator with my bare hands.”

I gathered the children around me, checking each one of them in turn. Within minutes, guards and Healers swarmed into the library. One of the Healers wrapped me in a silver blanket and persuaded me to sit. “You’ll be fine,” he promised. “You’re in shock.”