Betrayed: Ruby's Story (Destined Book 4) Page 17

  ~

  Professor Kristof was right. The main building was in bad shape. In fact, bad shape didn’t quite capture the situation. Disastrous, maybe. Disgusting. Horrifying. Unfit for human occupation. That was more like it.

  I found Professor Kristof chasing a family of rats out of the library with a broom. “Shoo!” He waved the broom as the rats squealed at him. “Get out, you vagabonds! Go on, leave us!”

  I leaped to the side as they passed me, squeaking their displeasure. “How can I help?”

  The professor mopped his brow with his sleeve. His normally neat, gray hair was rumpled and sweaty, and his glasses were lopsided on his nose. The excitement he’d had at our meal had faded slightly. “I thought we’d start with the library. Once it’s clean, we can get the books out of my office and organize them on the shelves, so we can actually use them as they were meant to be used, with students. The first class can meet here in the library. It will probably be a long while before we have enough students to merit the use of multiple classrooms, anyway.”

  I scanned the library. It was large, with one wall of high, bare windows—adorned by shards of broken glass, of course—and the other three walls lined from floor to ceiling with dusty, empty shelves. A dozen rows of free-standing bookcases filled one half of the room, but only two of the bookcases were upright. The rest had collapsed onto each other or been pushed over by overzealous looters.

  “I’ll start with the shelves along the walls,” I said slowly. “We might need a bit of help in righting the other shelves.” A lot of help.

  Professor Kristof straightened his glasses. “I … ah … do believe you’re right about that.”

  I spent the next two hours clearing the bookshelves of refuse, wiping away the dust, and returning with soap and water to scrub them clean of stubborn grime.

  I’d gotten the bucket and sponge from Auntie back at the boarding house, and when she and Opal had learned that we were preparing to reopen the university, they had insisted on coming with me back to the campus to help.

  “How did they get garbage up so high?” Opal grumbled from atop a ladder, where she was cleaning a surprisingly large amount of old food from the top shelf.

  “Probably somebody trying to hide their stash of victuals.” Auntie peered up at Opal from the base of the ladder.

  “Too bad they never came back for it,” Opal said sourly. “It must have been here at least a decade or two.”

  I shuddered at her words. Someone had taken such care to hide their food but never made it back to retrieve it. And Opal was touching victuals that were as old as I was.

  “You know the rats poop over there, right, Kata?” Astrid’s quiet voice over my shoulder startled me.

  I yanked my cleaning rag back from the corner I’d been scrubbing and turned around. “Um, yes,” I lied. “That’s why I have to clean it.”

  Astrid wrinkled her nose. “If you must.”

  I edged back from the shadowy, smelly corner. “I’ll just take a little break.”

  “Good idea.” Her normally confident tone was quieter than I’d ever heard it.

  I peered at her. Astrid’s shoulders were more hunched than usual, and her eyes were oddly red. “Astrid.”

  She looked down and huddled in her oversized sweater as though trying to appear smaller. “Kata.”

  “What’s wrong? What are you doing here?”

  “What are you doing here?” she retorted, a bit of life coming back into her voice. “I thought the old university was rat territory these days.”

  “If you must know, the Praetor tasked Professor Kristof with reopening it.” I smiled when her eyebrows shot up. “We’re trying to get the main building in shape for classes. Starting with this grand library.” I swept a hand toward the disgusting, cluttered space around us.

  She followed my gaze and frowned. “Gross.”

  I sighed. “Well, we’re trying. So why did you come?”

  She shrugged and looked away. “Didn’t want to be at home.”

  “Why?”

  She pressed her lips together and shook her head.

  Feigning nonchalance, I handed her a wet cleaning rag, which she held out in front of her like it carried the plague. “If you’re here, you might as well help me clean up the rat poop.”

  I knew she was desperate when she agreed.

  We worked together for nearly an hour before she finally spoke. “Mama ran out of aurae yesterday.” Her voice was painfully quiet. I paused to study her, but she kept scrubbing and refused to look at me. “She went to buy more today, but they said they’re all out.” She squeezed the rag in her fingers and scrubbed harder.

  Demetrius had been forced to stop selling aurae while he waited for the new vials. And Astrid’s mother …

  “She always said she couldn’t live without it.” Astrid’s voice wavered slightly. “I never believed her. I thought she was just weak.” A tear escaped, but she dashed it away just as quickly as it had appeared. “I don’t know if … maybe she’s right. I’ve never seen her so upset.”

  If her mother couldn’t live without it, how would she survive five whole days? And yet I couldn’t exactly tell Astrid I knew when the new supply was coming. “I’m sure she’ll be fine,” I said haltingly. “After all, many people—” I broke off at the sight of a sleek, black fomewagon pulling into the square in front of the library.

  Astrid paused scrubbing and got to her feet to peer through the broken window into the square. “Wolves,” she said, her voice hollow. Her rag made a wet splat as she dropped it on the floor. “See you later. I stay away from the clans when I have the chance.” She shot me a dark look. “You probably should too.”

  She was gone before I could reply.

  Chapter 25

  The hazy, late-afternoon light hurt my eyes as I peered through the library window. Lucien got out of the fomewagon first. The sight of his grim, handsome face still took my breath away, but annoyance from our argument earlier that morning tempered my appreciation for the sight.

  Four heavily-armed men followed him out of the fomewagon.

  I backed away from the window and exchanged a worried glance with Professor Kristof.

  “Perhaps, ladies, you should return another time,” he murmured to Auntie and Opal. “We greatly appreciate your help, but one never knows quite what to expect.”

  “Don’t need to tell us twice,” Auntie said, dumping her broom on the floor and shuffling toward the rear door with impressive speed.

  Opal wiped her dirty hands on her apron. “We’ll make ourselves scarce.” She eyed me for a moment. “And good luck.” With that, she followed Auntie out the door.

  Lucien and the four men stepped out of my view as they entered the building, then appeared in the library doorway a moment later. “Professor. Miss Kata.” Lucien’s tone was neutral.

  “Hello, Lucien,” the professor answered. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?”

  Lucien jerked his head toward the men behind him. “Guards. In case the Hawks or anybody else gets it in their head to test the Praetor’s decree.”

  Professor Kristof nodded. “Thank you, Lucien. We are grateful.”

  Lucien grunted. His gaze darted toward me. “Miss Kata. May I … uh … speak to you? Alone?”

  I wanted to cross my arms and tell him what to do with his sorry attempt at politeness. “Fine,” I said instead, allowing a hint of displeasure to color my voice.

  Lucien’s lips twitched at my response. “Shall we?”

  Reluctantly, I accompanied him out of the library and down the rubble-strewn hallway. “What do you want?” I whispered when we were out of earshot. “I don’t think we have anything else left to say to each other.”

  Lucien turned to face me, then he ran a tired hand over his eyes. “I’m sorry. I am. I-I shouldn’t have said that earlier. About you not thinking.”

  I frowned. “No. You shouldn’t have.” I bit my lip as I recalled all the new pieces of information I’d learned in t
he Praetor’s villa that morning, including the knowledge that Lucien’s own father had been an aurist and—it just now occurred to me—had probably been executed for failing to follow the clan rule. Too stupid to keep his hands clean, Andrei had said. Against my better judgment, I felt myself soften toward Lucien. “I did enter the Badlands without a bedroll.”

  Lucien’s familiar smirk appeared on his lips, making my stomach do a quick somersault. “That you did. But you also slept on the bare ground without complaining once. I don’t know many Wolves who’d do that.”

  There it was! Finally. The warm appreciation in Lucien’s gaze melted the last bit of ice in my veins. I let myself smile—really smile. “Not out loud, at least.”

  We stood in the dusty, old hallway like that for a moment, just smiling stupidly at each other. Perhaps he was as relieved to have called a truce as I was. Finally, he shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m leaving soon,” he said quietly, shooting a glance over his shoulder toward the library. “Be careful while I’m gone.”

  My stomach sank. “Gone?” I felt my cheeks heat up. How could a single word sound so lovesick?

  Lucien’s expression was impossible to read. “Demetrius is taking me to Asylia.”

  He didn’t mention the reason for the trip. I wasn’t sure if I should tell him I knew. Did he still want me out of the story?

  “I don’t know when I’ll be back,” he added grimly. “But when I return, I’m getting you out of this city.”

  Well, there’s my answer.

  “So stay out of trouble for a while. Can you do that?”

  I smiled again, but this one didn’t feel quite as genuine. “I’ll certainly try.”

  ~

  I left the university an hour before dusk and used my assistant’s stipend to purchase two sturdy, new work dresses and a pair of stockings at the market on the way home. My old brown dress had gotten quite grimy in the library, and I was ready—desperate, actually—for an alternative.

  At the courier’s office, I picked up another small bundle of letters from Asylia. Sebastian’s note felt bulky, so I suspected it held another note from Dukas.

  I forced myself to wait until I’d gotten back to my room, bathed, and changed into my nightgown before I finally flipped open the envelope from Sebastian. Dukas’s note fell into my lap, and I pounced on it.

  Ruby—

  As much as I enjoy your fearful silence, your trembling reply would be much sweeter.

  Don’t tell me you think you’ve won. I hear the guards talk. I know that aurae overuse is killing scores every day. Does that feel like victory to you? Foolish girl.

  The weak are eliminating themselves from our city, just as they should. Nothing you do will stop nature from taking its course.

  Will you be courageous enough to acknowledge my victory directly, or continue to hide in shame from your failure?

  Yours, while I yet live,

  The Rat King

  I folded his note in half, then quarters, pressing the folds tightly as though I could force his words back inside his letter and keep them from taking root in my mind.

  Sebastian’s letter was short and matter-of-fact.

  Ruby, will you please reply? The longer we go without hearing from you, the greater our fears for your wellbeing. If civilian transport were permitted on the trade caravans, I would join you tomorrow. Tell me you are well.

  Grandmother’s letter expressed the opposite sentiment.

  Ruby, finish the story—do not delay. Countless lives depend on your success. Maintain your focus. Do not give us one moment’s thought until your work is done.

  I sighed and tucked all three letters in the back of my journal. Reply. Don’t reply. Did my well-being matter to Sebastian and Grandmother, or did they just care about what I could do for Asylia?

  “Don’t be vain, Ruby,” I whispered to myself. Of course, my well-being didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. I could practically feel Grandmother’s sharp gaze, condemning my silly thoughts. Aurists were perishing daily in Asylia. What value did my well-being hold when weighed against the lives of countless Asylians?

  Only a selfish fool would even ask such a question.

  I swallowed, my throat oddly tight, and sat cross-legged on my bed, then pulled the stack of stolen Wolf clan records onto my lap.

  I turned up the dial on my luminous lantern and ran my hand over the first page of Wolf clan records. Then I pulled out my journal and flipped it to a blank page. Companies, I wrote at the top. Beginning with the first page of records, I made a list of every Wolf-owned company listed in the records, along with the date and the name of the buyers who’d purchased from them.

  The plague had arrived in the spring. Sure enough, there was a sudden decrease in records after spring, thirteen years ago—I had to assume the Wolf companies only sold to local Draician companies after that point.

  That narrowed things down somewhat, but nowhere near enough. I counted the remaining companies—twenty-two Wolf-owned companies and fifty-seven trading companies who’d purchased something from them thirteen years earlier, a mix of Asylian, Lerenian, and others from the smaller walled cities of Theros.

  A chill went down the back of my neck as I reviewed the two columns in my journal. Somewhere on those two lists, I had the name of the Wolf-owned company that had smuggled aurae into Asylia and the Asylian partner who’d helped.

  Chapter 26

  “It’s beautiful.” I stood by the library door, my hands wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee. “I can’t believe we did all this in less than a week.”

  Professor Kristof looked up from the small buffet beside me, where he was stirring cream into his own coffee. “Well, we did have help.”

  “True.” Despite my nerves, I felt myself smile. “I think Opal’s obsessive nature is the only reason the floor looks so pretty.”

  Outside, the morning sky was a bright, pale gray, and frost had formed on the spotless, freshly-repaired library windows overnight. The whole library practically sparkled, it was so clean. The collection of surviving texts from Professor Kristof’s office hadn’t quite filled the floor-to-ceiling, built-in shelves, so we’d added a few other items to the shelves—baskets of school supplies for students, extra luminous lamps, and a few, old busts that had survived the looters of decades past.

  Praetor Demetrius had sent enough funds to provide for the biggest expenses, but we’d been on our own to handle the cleaning and the minor repairs. Luckily, it seemed the whole neighborhood had helped. Several merchants from the nearby market, along with Opal and a few of her boarders, had shown up two days earlier to help carry the damaged, free-standing bookcases into a room we’d designated for storage. They’d also brought in a collection of tables from other classrooms in the building, and the tables fit perfectly where the collapsed bookcases had been.

  A fire crackled cheerfully in the large fireplace, radiating warmth from the edge of the room and keeping the frosty outside temperature at bay. Praetor Demetrius had provided the kindling, since apparently suffio was exorbitantly priced in Draicia.

  Bright windows, warm fire, clean shelves, organized books—the whole scene was so heart-meltingly perfect, I could almost forget the two uniformed, armed guards Lucien had stationed at the building’s front and back entrances.

  Almost, but not quite.

  Our final touch in preparing the library had been to unearth and polish the old coffee service we’d found beneath the piles of books in Professor Kristof’s office. In hindsight, securing a source of coffee for the library probably should have been our first project.

  I took my first sip. “How long until they come?”

  Professor Kristof’s eyes twinkled over the rim of his mug. “One hour. Which feels about an hour too long.”

  I released a breath that was half laughter, half nervous energy. “I can’t believe this is really happening.”

  The professor nodded. “It’s not every day you take part in an event that’s been decades i
n the making.”

  I didn’t answer. The professor’s excitement and optimism were contagious, for the most part, but I couldn’t shake the steady undercurrent of dread that had been making my heart race a little too fast all morning. What would happen when we welcomed students from all the clans and the poor and clanless masses together in one classroom?

  ~

  The first students arrived half an hour early.

  “Good morning, Professor.” The quiet, young vendor from the market smiled shyly from the doorway.

  Professor Kristof beamed and strode across the library to shake his hand. “Welcome, Emil.”

  Emil waved to me, and I smiled. “Hello. I’m Kata, Professor Kristof’s assistant. Have a seat anywhere.” He moved toward the nearest table. “If you need paper and pencil for notetaking,” I added, “you can find them on the shelf over there.”

  He pulled a tattered notebook and pencil out of his jacket. “Brought my own,” he said quietly. “I’ve been looking forward to this ever since you told us a week ago.”

  “So have I,” Professor Kristof said, his mustache twitching. “So have I.”

  The next students, five older teenagers from clanless families who lived near the university, joined us a moment later.

  By the time class had begun, I’d introduced myself twenty times and fended off half that many flirtatious overtures. The Hawk clan had sent six young men, long-legged and covered in lean muscle, with intricate feather tattoos peeking from their dapper suits at the wrist and collar. I’d thought only Badlanders tattooed their skin like that. I couldn’t help but wonder why they endured whatever pain it took to cover their skin with permanent ink.

  The Hawk men were friendly and polite, offering me wide smiles and ridiculous compliments as they found their seats, but their bodies were tight with tension, like strings on an instrument pulled almost to the snapping point.

  I knew the guard at the entrance would have checked them for weapons, but as I edged away from the group of Hawks, I had to wonder if they really needed weapons to do damage.