Page 19 of Sword & Sacrifice

Knock, knock, knock. “Your Majesty?”

He released Archer with a beleaguered sigh. “Yes, just a moment.” He looked up at Archer, kiss-swollen lips pursed in annoyance. “That was not nearly long enough.”

Archer grunted in agreement and helped Silas out of bed. They dressed swiftly and quietly, and Silas fixed the slight mess he’d made of Archer’s hair.

Once they were presentable, Silas opened the door to reveal Mirinda waiting on the other side. Her eyes scanned them both, and though her expression remained neutral, Archer knew she had some idea of what they were doing. She’d alluded once to knowing about their relationship and cautioned Archer to keep it secret.

He stared her down now, daring her to comment.

She lowered her eyes and said, “I’m sorry to rush you, but Mr. Morten wanted me to ask you to meet him at the South Wing.”

“Of course,” Silas replied, fussing with his cravat. “I’ll go right now.”

Since they were all headed toward the palace, Archer walked beside Silas while Mirinda walked a few steps behind. The whole way there, Archer felt her heavy, judgmental gaze on his back. His jaw clenched in irritation. You aren’t my adviser. Keep your damn, unwanted advice to yourself.

Archer and Silas paused at the palace gate. Despite the witnesses, Archer wished he could kiss Silas one last time before separating. He grabbed Silas’ hand and squeezed it gently, the most intimacy they could get away with in public. “Send for me if you need anything. I’ll come to you immediately.”

Silas smiled and rubbed his thumb along the back of Archer’s hand. “If you say it like that, I might find quite a few things I need from you.”

Even after they let go and went their own ways, the heat of their connection lingered on Archer’s skin.

Chapter Ten

The once brightly gleaming white walls of Veritim Palace had transformed into the black maw of a ferocious beast, waiting to swallow Silas whole. Soot-stained stone formed jagged teeth. The heavy, wet scent of scorched wood and rain mingled into foul breath.

The man standing next to Silas handed him a lantern. “You won’t find much,” he warned. Strider Morten was a contractor who worked with the Merchant’s Guild, helping business owners recover from all kinds of disasters. He was tall and broad like Archer but significantly more verbose. “The books would have gone fast, adding fuel to the fire, and once the ceiling caved in, everything else was crushed.”

“Do you still think the fire started here?” Silas asked.

“From the way it spread and the layers of rubble, yes.” Strider waved Silas forward and they stepped through a broken wall to enter the ruins.

They paused at the edge of a huge stone pile, twice as tall as either of them. Silas tilted his head back and looked up through an equally large hole in the ceiling, all the way to the clear blue sky.

“You see the state of this stone?” Strider asked, drawing Silas’ attention back to him. “How it’s not as charred as the rest of it? If the upper floors had caught fire first, they would have been exposed to it longer and shown more damage. Instead, it looks like the stone ceiling snuffed out some of the flames when it fell. From what I’ve seen so far, the upper floors also show less damage than the lower ones, implying the fire started on the first floor.”

“Do we know what started it?”

Strider shook his head. “A candle or overturned lantern is the most likely culprit. Neither would leave evidence behind.”

“What about Blasting Jelly?” A few weeks ago, Silas had stumbled across a large collection of jars filled with the explosive in the armory. The soldiers had used it when they’d blown up the prison to help Varro escape, so Silas wondered if it had also been used on the palace.

“It’s possible,” Strider conceded. “Blasting Jelly is formulated for a quick bang, and, in a controlled situation, it won’t spread a fire. That brings us back to the books. One stray spark and this is the result.” He gestured to the ruins.

If it was Blasting Jelly, that would lend more support to the theory that the soldiers set the fire as a distraction. “Would there be any residue left behind?”

“No. The best way to confirm that as the source would be to find a witness who heard an explosion.”

“What about any other evidence it might leave behind? A crater or something?”

“It depends on how much they used and where. Would you like my team to keep an eye out for any signs of arson?”

“Yes, report anything to me immediately.” Wanting to see the rest of the library, Silas walked around the pile of rubble rather than over it. His foot struck a stray rock, and he bit back a hiss of pain. He glanced down at the ground to watch where he stepped but paused as a sparkle caught his eye. Bending down, he picked up an oddly shaped stone. Only the size of his thumbnail, bits of blue peeked out under the black soot.

He cleaned it off with the edge of his shirt and held it up to the light to examine it better. The blue was as light as the sky, hidden underneath a chunk of melted metal. Once the metal was chipped away, it would probably resemble a teardrop. Where did this come from? Silas rarely wore jewelry, and he certainly didn’t leave precious stones lying around. Most of them were kept in the Vault, only to be taken out for formal occasions.

The only person he knew who wore jewelry on a daily basis was …

Eight years old and trying to escape his tutors again, Silas had snuck into his parents’ bedroom. If his father caught him, he’d simply drag Silas back to the schoolroom, where he would have to sit through the day’s lesson on geography. If his sister caught him, she’d take him down to the kitchens first for a treat, then not-so-subtly try to teach Silas herself. He never quite understood her ramblings on the historical connections between countries, but lessons were much more fun while eating a tart.