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Stavros frowns. “The accomplices we’ve encountered in the past were shrouded—and we haven’t seen anyone else working with the Order covering themselves like that. How far away are these farms?”
“Only a few hours’ ride. You could be there and back within a day—or over the course of a night.”
My spirits lift with a rush of my own energy, for once nothing to do with my magic. “We should go right away, then. It’s about time we struck a real blow against the Order.”
Delfis steps back with an air of intentness. “All action requires proper forethought, especially in a matter as fraught as this one. I need to consult with my devouts and the records I’ve kept to confirm the details before we proceed with a plan.”
He flashes a smile at me that’s almost apologetic, as if he can sense how desperately I want to make progress. “I promise it won’t take very long. Your dedication to our royal family is impressive.”
As he sweeps out of the room, Petra lets out a soft laugh. “At least we know he’s right about one thing.”
My cheeks warm with a twinge of embarrassment.
Casimir bumps his shoulder affectionately against mine. “Your enthusiasm does you credit, Kindness. We’re on our way now.”
I wrinkle my nose at the map. “Isn’t there anything we can do right away other than wait?”
Every minute Lothar remains in power gnaws at me with the uncertainty of what horrors he might conjure next. What harm he might manage to inflict on the people around me.
Stavros gives my shoulder a quick squeeze. “Why don’t you check up on our scholar and make sure the temple library hasn’t swallowed him up? He may have found something else that’ll be useful.”
At Petra’s encouraging smile, I peel myself away from the table. It feels like too much time has already passed since we made any real moves against the scourge sorcerers, but I don’t want to rush in recklessly either.
The temple’s library is located on the lowest level, a series of rooms that manage not to give the same dreary basement ambiance as the archive where my men and I used to meet at the royal college. Thin windows along the outer walls let in sunlight from their position close to the ceiling, amplified by the magic-enhanced crystal fixtures that dangle throughout the space. The white walls and soft, honey-yellow carpeting add to the bright atmosphere.
Books and scrolls pack the pale wooden bookcases built against the walls. It seems this temple has had a scholarly bent for quite some time to amass this kind of collection.
Cozy chairs with tables set next to them scatter the larger fore-room, perfect for curling up with a thrilling story. I tamp down on my own itch to peruse the shelves for folk tales or adventure novels and venture on into one of the side rooms.
I stop in the doorway, taking a moment to enjoy the view before I interrupt.
Alek sits on the smaller room’s chaise lounge, the only seating available amid the many looming bookcases. He’s bent over a book with tight script and yellowed pages that I can tell must be many decades if not centuries old, with other volumes and a few scrolls lying around it on the low table.
His dark waves have drifted over his forehead, but they can’t disguise the passionate gleam in his bright brown eyes. His lips have parted slightly as if in awe. There’s a joyful glow to his bronze skin that shines right through the mottling of his scars.
He’s dressed in the plain tunic and trousers Delfis provided us all with to change from our travel-worn clothes, which hardly fits his station as a scholar of the royal college and son of a wealthy merchant. But he’s never looked more handsome than here, utterly in his element.
I hate to break his reverie, but he glances up and notices me before I have to speak. A brilliant grin curves his lips. “This place is fantastic! I can’t believe none of my teachers ever recommended taking a research trip here.”
I amble over to the arm of the chaise and consider the assortment of books he’s been browsing through. “They have texts you haven’t found before—more than just temple records?”
“Oh, they are mostly records,” Alek said, his usually even voice as awed as his expression. “That’s probably why no one’s paid attention. There are all kinds of accounts from past clerics and devouts of people throughout the province they’ve met—mostly to provide medical assistance, but you can learn so much about how people lived from the details woven in. I’ve already found several that date back to before the Darium invasion.”
His main area of study before he got drawn into investigating the scourge sorcery conspiracy was Silana’s history from before the Darium empire’s reign.
I perch on the padded chair arm for a closer look at the book he’s currently reading. “Is there anything in there that’ll help us knock the scourge sorcerers on their asses?”
Alek lets out a chuckle and gives his head a rueful shake. “Not so far. But I’ve only just gotten started. Lothar and his followers like to talk about how they’re going back to the ‘old ways’ and how the All-Giver wanted it to be. The more we know about how things really were in the times before the Darium empire, the better armed we’ll be to challenge the Order of the Wild. I suppose that’s what King Konram was thinking with his own reading.”
He has a point. I’m not sure I’d want to argue even if I didn’t see it.
The eagerness in his face and voice brings a swell of affection into my chest—and a sudden prickling behind my eyes.
I almost lost moments like this. I almost lost him and everyone else I care about. If my kidnapping by Lothar had ended the way the former advisor wanted it to—if he’d had his man slit my throat the other night by the guardhouse?—
I still might lose everything, sooner than I’d like to think about. Because the battle is far from over, and what I said to Petra is true. I’ll stretch my magic and my sanity to their limits before I let Lothar hurt her and her siblings.
A lump rises in my throat at the memories. If Lothar had succeeded in his first awful plan, my last words to Alek would have been caustic mockery.
