Page 90 of The Shadows Between Us
Kallias brings his free hand to his lips and tugs off his glove with his teeth. He brings his fingers to my cheek.
I register the contact, and I feel it distantly, but there’s no heat. No sensation that comes from touching someone you find attractive.
It’s rather awful, actually. Wanting that contact and not getting it. Even with a touch.
“I know,” he says, reading the look on my face. “It’s, well, a shadow of what real contact feels like.” He bends over to retrieve the glove he dropped. “I’ll wait outside and warn you if he comes. Just knock if you need anything.”
And then he slides back out into the hallway with a wisp of shadow.
I feel my limbs return to normal, watch as the shadows fade away. That feels much better.
Orrin’s desk faces the large window in the main room. His quarters consist of a bedroom and a washroom. No greeting room or study, as is in mine.
I open the first drawer and find everything I need in one neat place. The seal, wax, and the tools for lighting it.
I light the wick and set the wax above it, waiting for it to melt. Since I’ve never been very patient, I decide to poke through Orrin’s things. The rest of the drawers on his desk are filled with writing implements and some unfinished letters.
Orrin has a few chests and a wardrobe. One of the chests is locked. The other holds extra linens. His wardrobe contains nothing but his bland clothing in beiges and whites and browns.
I eye the locked chest.
“Whatever could be inside you?” I whisper to myself. Nothing else in the room is locked. Not the drawers with his correspondences. Not even the drawer that holds a pouch of necos.
I test the weight of the locked chest. I can lift it clean off the ground. It’s not heavy at all, save for the wood it’s made out of. Nor is it terribly large. Just a bit wider than my own body.
I stand after setting the chest back on the floor and look about theroom. If I were Orrin, where would I hide the key, assuming he doesn’t have it on him?
I find myself back at the desk, examining the individual drawers a bit more closely.
And I note that one doesn’t appear to be as deep as the others.
A false bottom.
With a bronze key nestled underneath.
Eliades, you simple fool.
I turn back toward the chest, let out a sigh of relief when the key fits perfectly within the lock, and lift up the lid.
There’s clothing inside. Rather foul-smelling ones at that.
Why the devils would he want to lock this away?
First, I pull out a rumpled shirt in shades of brown. A smudge comes away on my own gloves after handling it, and I bemoan the loss of the garment.
Then I find a pair of unremarkable trousers. Beneath those are a pair of boots.
Orrin certainly isn’t clever enough for misdirection, so what—
And that’s when I see the final item in the bottom of the chest.
The incriminating one.
I hold up the fabric and let it dangle by the fingertips of my already-soiled glove.
A mask.
Themask.
