Keeper (First Ordinance #2)(61)

When? I asked.

Soon. I believe Berel wishes to come as well. We won't be gone overly long—less than a day, I think.

I would love to see your home, I told him.

Good. I want you to see it.

*

Gurnil chose to come with Justis and me when we flew toward Jurris' balcony. He said he hadn't seen the book in nearly a century and wished to do so again. I think he was more than curious to see whether I could read the language that no other could.

I was curious, too—and frightened. The fear I felt I couldn't explain. A part of me worried that I'd learn something about myself, before deciding that was foolish. My other fears were vague and I couldn't determine their cause.

"There you are," Jurris greeted Justis with a hug before smiling at Gurnil and me. "Let us look at this book, then, and learn what we may from it."

Justis' hand went to the back of my neck and massaged it gently as Jurris led us down a hall toward the east end of his suite. A locked door waited there, made of thick metal with iron bands. My trepidation grew as Jurris drew a key from his pocket and inserted it into the lock.

The door creaked, metal on metal hinges, as it opened. Again, we followed Jurris as he walked toward the back of the huge room, packed top to bottom with treasures and important items.

There, on a tall shelf at the very back, lay a large, leather-bound book. I understood what had happened before anyone else.

One of my bloody primary feathers was placed atop the book, with a note beneath it. You should have taken the key away, so it's your fault, was scrawled across the note in Halthea's handwriting.

Inside, pages and pages of text had been ripped away. Everything I'd wanted to read was gone—likely burned or torn to pieces and tossed to the winds outside the castle. Jurris—and all the Avii—were paying the final price for Halthea's betrayal.

*

"I have a copy of the Ordinance, but the other—only the King's book held that information," Gurnil shook his head, his expression heartbreaking. Ordin offered him a glass of wine and he took it. Justis, grim-faced and angry, had escorted us back to the Library before going off to spar with Ardis—he needed to work off his anger somehow.

I grieved for lost writing. Yes, I was afraid of what I might learn, but I needed to learn it.

It was gone, now. Justis had snatched up my feather before storming out of the Library, my hand held tightly in his. We'd left Jurris behind, cursing Halthea's name loudly enough for anyone to hear.

*

Kondar

"There's been an incident," Melis dropped a tab-vid on Edden's desk. "Some in Sector Three flung rotten fruit and garbage at the idling wartanks at their border. The wartanks' commanders fired back, killing twenty. Sector Three's troops have been mobilized. We are now officially at war with Sector Two," he reported.

*

Quin

Berel looked pale when he came to find me. I knew just by looking at him what had happened. People had died and more would die as well, because someone had chosen to lie and others chose to believe the lie.

He sat beside me on the bench outside the Library, his shoulder bumped against mine, his tab-vid in his hand. While the screen was now blank, I knew he'd had recent conversations with his father.

Shutting Ulrin's journal and setting it aside, I reached for Berel's hand and laced my fingers in his. Today had been a terrible day for news of any kind. Berel knew what lay between Sector Two's invading forces and answering troops from Sector Three—a city lay between them, filled with people who couldn't escape fast enough. Those who'd managed to get away had few options as to where to run; the nearest cities were filling up quickly with refugees.

"I've asked Father to command one of the Alliance air destroyers—they're coming to pick me up before moving to Sector Two's border," Berel said.

"I'm coming with you," I said.

"But," he began.

"No, we go together, or I swear I'll have Justis drop you in a pig pen."

"Quin, no," he argued.

"I think I have an idea, although it will require Justis' help, permission from the King and equipment from the Alliance. If we have those things, I think we can do this. Together."

"Fine. Lead the way."

*

"Let me get Ildevar here," Kaldill said the moment I told him what I wanted. If I had the equipment, I hoped to get the right answer from Justis when I took the problem to him.

Worrying that the answers would be no—both from the Founder and from Justis, made my stomach churn. If I'd eaten a midday meal (I hadn't) I would have heaved it up at that point.

"What's this you're asking for? Personal shields?" Ildevar appeared in a brief flash of light and blinked at Kaldill.

"For the Avii guards," I said. "This isn't Kaldill's fault—I'm asking for the shields. The Avii can fly through the rows of wartanks, and with the weapons you have that will render vehicles and equipment useless, I hope we can end this idiotic conflict before more people die."

"So you're hoping to protect the winged guards as they fire on wartanks? These same wartanks that can shoot rounds large enough to knock down entire buildings?" Ildevar's voice—and his words—were skeptical. I could see he'd studied Kondari weapons during his brief stays—as was proper for any Founder of an Alliance.