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She walked with Drake to an entryway cut into the earth. Though now collapsed, she could see it angled downward sharply.
“Here.” Drake gestured for her to instead climb a small slope. He held her hand as they negotiated the irregular ground. Ahead was a gaping crevasse, with soil and torn metal framework lying on the rubble leading into the hole.
Stairs had been cut into the earth and a ladder led the rest of the way to the floor.
She descended the ladder with Drake below, watching her now and then with a concerned look on his face, as if she was unable to use a ladder. It made her want to shake her head and eye-roll at him, but he’d likely spank her. She seriously did not want to prod him into doing that, not in public.
In private? She smiled to herself; maybe.
Here and there, lamps hung from stands. Mauve tiles covered the partially shattered floor, and tables had once been set up in rows. The snapped-off legs screwed to the floor told her this, and the chunks of timber embedded in walls and earth. Large beams had been cracked and flung aside. If there’d been machinery, it was now only twisted wreckage.
“There were other rooms,” Drake said, nodding toward the edges. “Blasted away by the bomb explosion.”
The official report had claimed an Overwatch sat had targeted the site because it detected the heavy machinery. The whole point of this factory being underground had been to avoid Overwatch noticing the large machines.
“Bomb?” She could smell chemicals, maybe smoke. “Not a sat laser or missile?”
“No. Our experts, both human and mauleon, have told me a laser leaves less mess. No flinging about of debris for one. More melted material. While an Overwatch missile would make a far bigger hole and throw debris much, much further. This was an assassination from a bomb.”
It was not a great surprise, not after the hints he’d dropped before this. “I see. Do you know who? General Vass, maybe?”
“Perhaps. There’s nothing that points to anyone, but I’ve told them to keep investigating.”
They’d died here. Whatever gory mess had been left, it was gone. She frowned and swallowed, looking about while trying to keep down her last meal.
“The bodies I saw were not intact.” Her mouth twisted as she recalled having to identify her brothers. There’d been no face on one. Roarke. It made the letter plausible. The funeral staff had somehow recreated his face for the public funerals. “Are they sure who died?”
Drake nodded. “Yes. I was told so. Why?”
“Just that it was horrible, seeing them. It’s something that seems impossible even now. That they died.” He took her hand and pulled her into his chest, held her while she looked out over his arm at the room. “Keep looking, please. I want to know who did this. I have to know.”
“Of course.” He kissed the top of her head. “I know. It’s being done.”
Of course the list of who would profit was short.
There were others who might have tried it simply due to hate. Those... seemed less likely to have succeeded in such a momentous task. Bombs that did this were not simple to make anymore. Two hundred years ago, yes, but not now.
The big people with power remained.
General Vass, commander of the army.
Sec-Force General Aegis.
Maybe even her palace guard commander, who she’d not met in many months.
The last one on her list was Drake.
She could never believe that.
And still she could not tell him about the letter. It felt like a betrayal.
* * *
No more letters were left, and she had to wonder how the first had been smuggled in. By someone with access to her and Drake’s rooms, clearly. She’d burned the paper, as instructed.
What if it wasn’t her brother? But it had to be. No one else knew of that incident.
What if he recovered and returned?
