by Dylan Steel
“Can I at least have my mother’s necklace back?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Weston—” She caught his gaze pleadingly, waiting until the hard edges around his eyes began to soften. “I’ve kept it safe when you didn’t even know where it was. I have just as much a right to it as you do, and it means more to me than—it’s the only thing I have that I know was hers.”
He hesitated for a long moment. She was convinced he was going to say no again, but then he surprised her, pulling out the onyx stone. “Be careful with it. And never wear it outside this estate.”
She took it from his hand eagerly. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep it safe,” she said, clasping it around her neck. Touching a hand to the gem, she beamed up at him, glad to feel its familiar weight. “Thank you,” she whispered, setting a hand on his arm and giving it a light squeeze.
Weston stared at her for a moment, as if surprised by the sincerity of her smile. In all fairness, she’d never smiled at him before—not like that. His eyes flicked from her hand back to her face, and he cleared his throat.
“I may yet ask for it back,” he warned brusquely. “Don’t make me regret this.”
“I won’t.”
Her grin grew even broader, and he gave a curt nod. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he looked a little uncomfortable. But that was impossible. She’d never met a man so at ease with who he was—or at least, not a good man.
“Alright, then.” He pulled a second chair closer to hers so that they could sit across from one another as they worked. “Let’s get started.”
6. LATE NIGHT
Sage jerked awake, sitting bolt upright in her seat. She swallowed against the dryness in her throat, wishing she’d had the foresight to keep a glass of water nearby.
Cringing, she dragged the back of her wrist across her mouth. She’d been drooling.
That’s attractive.
The clock on the wall told her it was well past time that she took a break—or rather, went to bed.
Just one more hour.
Yawning, she forced herself to stand up and stretch, then sank back down, crossing her legs underneath herself.
She’d spent the last two weeks glued to the chair in Weston’s private library, trying to make sense of the gibberish in the journals. Occasionally, she’d recognize a word or phrase, but for the most part, the language—and the message they contained—remained a mystery.
Twice, Weston pulled up a chair and tried to help, but that was a luxury lately. His days were filled with meetings as the country officially readied itself for a new leader on the Quorum of Five. Under ordezko, Mr. Gaztok was already performing most every duty that the late Mr. Pruitt had, but his authority was still limited until the induction ceremony. The ceremony was only days away now, and Weston been so busy with preparations that he’d even risked staying in town overnight a few times.
Of course, he didn’t have time to drag Sage along, so she’d become well acquainted with the small library in his absence. He’d even shown her where he kept the relics he’d acquired.
At first, she’d been surprised that he actually felt he could trust her with unfettered access to his things, but she realized he’d already trusted her with his life. It wasn’t much of a stretch to trust her with Lawless relics too.
Eliza, on the other hand, remained suspicious. She had no trouble showing Sage that she didn’t share the same confidence in her loyalty—or at least, Sage hoped Eliza wasn’t spying on her at Weston’s request.
At first, she’d hovered nearby, barely letting Sage out of her sight every time Weston was gone. Just cleaning Mr. Bennick’s room, she’d insisted. They both knew better.
But as it became more clear that Sage was singularly focused on the task at hand, she’d spent less and less time subtly craning her neck to see into the library. Sage supposed they’d reached a sort of understanding.
She hoped.
“Still working?” Eliza’s voice came from the doorway, devoid of its usual hostility.
Sage glanced up in surprise. She rubbed her eyes, fighting back a yawn. “Yeah.” Her lips tugged up in a sheepish half-smile. “Sorta.”
“I was kinda surprised you didn’t come down for dinner. I checked your room first, but…” Eliza shrugged.
“Yeah.” Sage furrowed her brow as she looked around the room thoughtfully. “I’m not sure how long I’ve been in here, to be honest.”
“Awhile,” Eliza stated matter-of-factly. “Which is why I thought you could use this.” She held up a small bag filled with cured meat and bread.
Sage’s stomach growled at the sight of the food. Her eyes widened in embarrassment.
“Thanks,” she mumbled gratefully, taking the bag.
“Uh-huh.” Eliza wandered into the room, dragging her fingers along one of the bookshelves. She turned back to Sage just as she shoved a wad of bread in her mouth. “Have you figured any of it out yet?”
“Mrwumphee.” Sage wrinkled her nose and put a hand to her throat, swallowing before she tried again. “Not really. Basically just eliminating ideas right now.”
“What have you tried?”
“A lot.” She snorted. “I’ve uploaded all the pages from three of the journals to my tablet. I’ve run them through a basic decryption program, but nothing’s standing out yet.”
Eliza sank into the chair across from her, eyes bright with interest. “Do you think it’s because it’s in the forgotten language?”
“Maybe. Probably.” Sage shrugged, toying with a bit of food between her fingers. “Decrypting and translating an unknown language is probably a bit outside the program’s abilities. At least we know pieces of the language. That should help, but—”
“Once you figure out the key, you mean.”
“Yeah.” Sage grimaced. She looked down, tapping her thigh thoughtfully. “But that’s the thing. I don’t think they share the same key. I think each journal uses a different one.”
Eliza leaned forward, picking up one of the earrings. Squinting, she held it within an inch of her eye. “Isn’t that what the gems are for?”
“That’s the rumor,” Sage said, a hint of bitterness in her voice.
Eliza looked at her questioningly.
“I can’t figure out how they’re supposed to work,” Sage admitted. Her cheeks reddened. “I’ve tried matching the gem to the color of the binding, but I have no idea what to do with it from there.”
“Yeah, Mr. Bennick’s tried that too,” Eliza murmured thoughtfully, still examining the gem.
Sage’s eyebrow shot up in annoyance. “That would’ve been nice to know.”
“It’s not like he made any progress on it either,” Eliza said defensively. Her familiar frown was back. “Besides, it’s better if you don’t know what he has or hasn’t tried. What if he accidentally convinced you not to try an idea that works just because of a simple miscommunication? You wouldn’t try it, and we might never figure this out then.”
“I guess,” Sage muttered, not really convinced. “It’s just frustrating. Feels like I’m wasting too much time.”
“It’s better this way,” Eliza stated firmly.
“She’s right, you know.”
Both girls whipped their heads toward the door. Weston was standing there, a small smile barely hiding the weary expression on his face.
“How long have you been standing there?” Sage shot him an accusing look.
“Sage,” Eliza reprimanded her sharply.
“It’s fine.” Weston smiled appealingly at Eliza. “I only just got back.”
“Is there anything I can get you?” Eliza asked, scrambling to her feet.
“No,” Weston said, holding up a hand before she could do anything. “I’m fine. Just tired.”
“Of course.” Eliza nodded.
Silence spread over the room, and Eliza glanced back and forth between Weston and Sage. She chewed her lip indecisively for a moment. “Well,” she announced more loudly than necessary, �
�I guess I should be going now. Good luck on the journals.” She hurried from the room, leaving the benefactor alone with his pair.
Sage shifted her weight in her chair. “I can leave too—if you wanted to get some sleep. I know tomorrow’s going to be busy.”
Mr. Gaztok’s official initiation as a member of the Quorum of Five was taking place the next day, and everyone in Eprah was going to be there.
Weston nodded absentmindedly. “We could both use the rest,” he said, slowly lowering himself into the chair beside her in contradiction to his statement.
“That’s probably not the best place to rest,” she said, narrowing her eyes reproachfully.
“I’ll sleep soon.” He ran a hand through his hair. His blue eyes were duller than normal, showing signs of exhaustion. “Catch me up on what you’ve done here first.”
“Did you hear what I told Eliza?”
He shook his head. “I really wasn’t standing there long.”
“I just thought the gem color might go with the matching binding, but I’m not sure what to do beyond that.” She crinkled her brow. “It’s not like there’s any more hidden text if I view the pages through the gems. And that was my only real idea. I’m not sure how else to use them.”
“It’ll come eventually,” Weston said, scrubbing his hands over his face in an effort to stay awake.
“I feel like I’m missing something anyways. I mean, none of the journals’ bindings are black, so I’m not even sure how my mother’s necklace plays into all of it since it doesn’t have a matching journal.” She blew out a puff of air in frustration. “It doesn’t quite add up.”
Weston nodded. “It does seem to poke a hole in the theory that the colors are supposed to match to figure out the ciphers.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t help me figure out how they are supposed to work.” Sage groaned, slumping deeper into her chair. “It just tells me what they don’t do.”
“It’s a process of elimination.”
“Well, it’s a long process,” she retorted. “And I can’t eliminate what I can’t even think of.”
“Don’t tell me you’re not up for a challenge,” Weston teased.
She shot him an irritated look, then relaxed a bit as he held up his hands placatingly.
“A joke, Sage. Apparently, a bad idea after you’ve spent the day holed up in here.”
She pursed her lips. “Looks like I’m not the only one who’s had a long day.”
He sighed, rubbing his thumb and forefinger over his temple. Closing his eyes, he leaned back in his seat. “I will be glad to have this all behind me tomorrow,” he murmured quietly.
Sage studied him for a moment, not saying anything. She had questions, things she’d been saving up all week to ask him when she saw him again. And now that he was finally back and was actually spending a minute sitting and talking with her, it didn’t take much for the questions that had been forming to gather at the forefront of her mind, needing a release.
“I was wondering…” she trailed off, biting the inside of her lip as she tried not to appear too eager.
“Yes?”
“Are you sure you have all the journals?”
“Yes.” His brows dipped.
“There’s not one missing? A black one?” she asked hopefully.
“This is all of them,” he said firmly.
She crossed her arms. “What makes you so sure?”
“There are seven,” he said simply, as if that were enough explanation.
“So?”
Weston sighed and got up, crossing to the shelves. He pulled a slip of paper out from where it had been hidden, wedged flat between the shelf wall and another book.
“Look familiar?” he asked as he handed her the paper.
She stared at the picture, her hand trembling as she held it. It was the same picture she’d discovered years ago in the Archives. The picture of twelve men and women, five of whom were the Original Five who’d founded Eprah and established the System of Worth and the initial rulership of the Quorum of Five.
“How did you get this?” she whispered.
Weston’s lips tugged into a sort of smirk. “You didn’t think we’d let that get lost, did you?”
Her face screwed up pensively. “But what does this have to do with—” She stopped herself. “Seven journals.”
He nodded once. “Seven journals. Seven non-founders. It’s a bit of a guess, but not by much. Especially when you factor in the little bit we’ve managed to translate from the pages. It may have an encoded message, but it has other important information as well.”
Sage looked at him sharply. “You’ve translated some of it?”
“Some. Don’t give me that look. Eliza already explained why I haven’t given you all the information. Having fresh eyes look at a problem is invaluable. I won’t taint that with knowledge of previous discoveries. Not until I have to.”
“Right.” She rolled her eyes. “Nothing like literally doubling our efforts.”
“It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Weston said dismissively. He stifled a yawn and dragged the second chair so that it was next to Sage’s.
“So only seven journals, not eight,” she mused, staring thoughtfully at the photograph, barely noticing as he settled in beside her.
There went her theory. Her mother’s necklace didn’t have a match among the journals. No matching journal meant her color coordination idea was wrong. The gems might be ciphers, but how to use them to read the journals—that was still as much a mystery as ever. Plus, the number of gems didn’t match the number of journals. There was something obvious she had to be missing.
Her attention snapped back to him. Finally realizing how close he was, she shifted in her seat, trying to settle her rebellious stomach. The scent of maple and cloves warmed her senses, stirring something inside her that made her want to lean a little closer.
She pushed the sensation down, ignoring it as she squared her shoulders. There’d be time to figure out what it meant later.
“You have all the journals. But you don’t have all the relics.”
“No.” His expression darkened. “Until recently, I was missing three. Now, I’m only missing one.”
“The onyx necklace and the pearl cuff,” Sage said slowly. She had brought both of them with her when she’d joined the estate—though for awhile, she’d thought she’d lost the cuff along with the rest of the things in her bag.
He nodded.
She pursed her lips, picking at the side of her nail. “And you know where it is.”
Weston frowned. “He won’t part with it willingly.”
“But we need it.”
“Sage.”
Chills spilled over her spine at the way he said her name. There was something wholly dangerous about it—something that would frighten her if he hadn’t saved her life several times already.
“We need it,” she repeated, more firmly this time.
“Grayson takes great pride in his collection,” Weston said, unable to hide the disgust in his voice. “Even with everything I own, there’s nothing I could offer him that he would accept.”
Sage chewed the inside of her lip. “Then maybe you shouldn’t offer him anything at all,” she said quietly.
He tilted his head, looking at her suspiciously. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking that, one way or another, we’re going to need that relic.” She exhaled slowly, watching him for his reaction.
Weston’s lips twitched. “Perhaps. But we don’t even know what to do with it once we have it. For now, why don’t you just give me an update on your progress? I’d like to know what you’ve discovered before we walk into the ceremony tomorrow.”
Sage shook her head. “Like I told Eliza, it’s not much. Mostly just what hasn’t worked.”
His eyes locked on hers, sending a thrill down her spine. “I’d like to know all the same.”
“Yeah, ok.” Lowering her eyes so he wouldn’t notice how her cheek
s flushed, she nudged the journal she’d been studying over the armrest toward him. “But I wouldn’t hold your breath for good news.”
His lips formed a grim line. “That’s nothing I’m not already accustomed to.”
“Fair enough.” She leaned over the text, pointing to the page she’d been attempting to read. “The decryption program didn’t come up with anything, and I didn’t have any luck running the matching gem over the page. I thought maybe there was something more hidden, like how the heat brought out these words, but so far… nothing.”
“It was a good idea.” Weston’s fingers brushed her cheek, pushing her hair back from her face. Her skin tingled where he touched her, and she sucked in a breath as her eyes snapped to his.
He stared back at her for a long moment. She was overwhelmed by the conflicting desire to stare into his deep blue eyes forever and the urgent need to look away before her stomach left her body altogether.
“I’m not surprised we had the same idea,” he finally said. “I’m just hoping you come up with some other ones that prove you’re smarter than I am.” He grinned, breaking her trance as he glanced down at the journal again.
As soon as he broke eye contact with her, a sudden wave of exhaustion threatened to overwhelm her. Shifting a little in her seat, she tried to prop her elbow on the arm of the chair, but it slipped out from under her, sending her into a sort of ungraceful slump. She let out a muffled grunt as she straightened quickly.
“You ok?” Weston watched her out of the corner of his eyes.
“Fine,” she muttered under her breath, ears burning with embarrassment.
His lips pressed together. He didn’t say anything else right away, just studied the pages in front of him.
“You should rest for a few minutes.” His voice pierced the silence, startling her.
She looked up in time to catch the concern on his face before he deliberately focused his attention back on the journal. Her brow gathered together disapprovingly.
“I’m fine.” The words dissolved into a yawn, drowning out her protest.
“I’m sure you are.”
There was an annoying hint of a smile in his voice, but she didn’t have the energy to snap back at him for it. The truth was she was barely staying awake. She’d been in this room so long the letters were starting to swim in front of her eyes.