Page 71 of This Monster of Mine

He doubled over in laughter, splutteringibez. Sighing, she slapped her palm between his shoulder blades. “Are you keeping quiet and still, Petitor Sarai?”

“Mostly.”

“Good. Nothing changes, becausetheydon’t change. They don’t answer to anyone, but we bow to them. We’re afraid so we bow and force everyone else to bow.” Leaning against the column, he closed his eyes. “Damn them all.” Within seconds, he was asleep.

She pressed two fingers to his pulse to confirm that he wasn’t unconscious before dragging him up the steps into the Hall of Records. Placing him in the closest building, she turned him on his side in case he vomited. Gaius showed up as she was done.

Glancing at Telmar, he groaned. “Hells, he’s still sotted? There’s a decent magus under there, but drink has ruined him.”

“Did something happen to him?”

“The Elsar only know.” Gaius shrugged. “Leave him be. He’ll wake soon and head to teach as though nothing were wrong.”

With a final, worried glance, she followed Gaius. Adrenaline and elation accelerated her pulse with every step into the records repository. Gaius kept up a stream of information about each building, from the Archive of Homicidium to the Archive of Mines. But the one she was the most interested in was the tall, chapel-like structure at the center: the Archive of Sealed Records.

Printing her name in the entry book under an archivist’s watchful eye, she peered at the hundreds of scrolls piled on shelves of every height just past the entryway.

“After national secrets, I see.” Gaius grinned at her excitement. “Unfortunately, I can’t accompany you past this point. Only Petitors get to view sealed records.”

“I’ll be in and out,” she promised. “I’ve heard so much about it.”

“Take your time. You’re joining a long tradition.” He beamed. “It’s the first archive every Petitor visits.”

Sarai held her breath as she crossed the threshold, absorbing the gravity of the moment and yearning to reach through time to the frightened, bitter girl she’d been and tell her that they’d made it. That their answers were within reach. No matter how unsavory the crime, it was all here, sealed away to keep the public unaware, but future Tetrarchs and their Petitors informed. And she would finallyknow.

“Good morning, Petitor Sarai. What records would you like to see? Or would you prefer to examine the indexes first?” The archivist, a muscled, balding man, who looked like he could carry the entire archive on his shoulders, indicated a series of leather-bound volumes.

“I”—she took a deep breath—“I’d like to see the records on the Sidran Tower Girl.”

He chuckled. “You aren’t the first curious Petitor, but I’m afraid that’s impossible.”

Her smile guttered. She must have heard wrong. “Are they located elsewhere?”

“The records were accidentally burnt,” he said apologetically. “One of Tetrarch Othus’s—that’s Tetrarch Kadra’s predecessor—men brought a signed command from him demanding their release, and my predecessor was foolish enough to make an exception. The vigile dropped them in a brazier.” He sighed. “All that knowledge lost.”

Her shaking hands knotted. This couldn’t be real. Any second now, she’d wake. But the pain of her nails scoring her skin flared sharp.

“When were they removed?” She heard her voice, fractured and thin like the crack of ice over Cretus’s windows.

“I believe it was three days after the incident.”

Something snapped in her. Broke. Died. She thought it might have been hope.

Gone.It’s all gone.“Tetrarch Othus’s vigile …” She desperately tried to keep her smile on, but it must have faltered because the archivist looked curious. “How was he able to enter? What about Tetrarch Othus’s Petitor?”

“He’d died only a day prior,” the archivist said with a wince. “A riding accident. We allow Tetrarchs to use a trusted vigile to deposit records until a new Petitor is appointed. But Tetrarch Othus died the next day, though that was almost certainly murder.” He shook his head. “And Martinus left the vigiles to bear the blame for having destroyed a sealed record. Quite the shuffle in personnel.”

It’s gone. “Do you know if Martinus left Edessa?”

He seemed to register the numbness in her voice because he chuckled. “Don’t worry, you’ll get your details. He’s still around in the taverns. Hairy as a northerner with the tall tales to boot. You can’t miss him.” He eyed her thoughtfully. “I see you’re one of the conspiracy theorists.”

Tears flooded her vision. “I …” She nodded to keep from speaking.

“It must be an occupational hazard, Petitors and finding the truth. You aren’t the first curious one to come here for answers.”

“Was …” She swallowed when her voice cracked. “Was Jovian one of the curious Petitors?”

“By Truth, yes. He was in here every night. Utterly inconsolable when he learned the records were gone. You’d have thought I’d told him someone died.”

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