Page 34 of Destroyer

Fen shifted at Ru’s side. Tension radiated from him like heat from a stove, even though he wasn’t the one being questioned.

“I’m…” Ru stammered, fighting to stay upright. How had she not been destroyed? There was no answer. No explanation. Only the memory, again and again, looping in her mind's eye. She felt the blood drain from her face. Her corset was so tight; sweat beaded on her brow. She knew the signs of a faint coming on, but she refused to do it, not here. Not in front of everyone.

“You can see this line of questioning is distressing Miss Delara,” Fen said then, his voice low and shadowed with warning.

The regent raised her eyebrows, eyes flashing. “You will forgive me,Mr. Verrill, for attempting to learn why over a dozen innocent Navenians were vaporizedin one fell swoop. Ruellian Delara is strong enough. She will answer my questions.”

Ru glanced at Fen, both with gratitude and to say, silently —I'm okay. But he continued to watch the regent, jaw clenched.

“Apologies, Lady Regent,” Ru said, remaining upright, remaining conscious, with only pure strength of will. To remember the moment was unspeakably painful. But to repeat it aloud to the court of Navenie… She swallowed thickly. “I recall the nature of the explosion. It was darkness. Complete darkness, swelling out from the artifact.” She breathed in once, then out. “That’s all I remember. I woke up alone, afterward. Everything at the dig site was... was gone.”

There was a lengthy silence as the regent contemplated this. Gone were the hushed murmurs; all eyes were fixed on Sigrun. Anticipation hung in the room, tense, like a storm cloud just before a lightning strike.

Ru’s hand found Fen’s, his cracked knuckles, and he held her there. Steady.

Finally, the regent spoke. “Miss Delara, you have no idea what could have set it off, made this artifact explode into darkness?”

“No,” said Ru.

“Nor do you understand why you survived it. You alone.”

“No, Lady Regent.” Ru was grateful that her words were clear and firm. Her hands shook; the garrote of that memory pulled tighter and tighter around her.

“You see how this is a great difficulty for me,” said Sigrun, leaning back in her chair. “My duty requires me to find answers. You seem to be my only method of doing so.”

This was Ru’s opportunity. Her chance to ask permission to take it to the Tower, to ask the questions she desperately needed to answer: Was it magic? How could it speak to her? Why had she been the only survivor? Sigrun wanted those answers too.

Ru was bound to the stone. As much as she wished she could leave the thing in the regent’s care, left to be studied by scholars in some dimly lit wing of the palace, she knew she couldn’t. Her fingers, wrapped so tightly around the swaddled stone they almost shook, betrayed her.

Deep down, in the farthest reaches of herself, Ru knew that she would never willingly leave the artifact behind. But she couldn't stay in Mirith — there would only be questions if she stayed, suffocating oversight, deadlines, and all the regulations that went with life in the palace. So there was only one solution left.

“Lady Regent, let me take the artifact to the Cornelian Tower,” said Ru. A low hum of voices swept across the room as all those gathered reacted to this request. “I’d like to study it. I believe I can discern its nature and answer all of our questions.”

The regent frowned, thoughtful. “There are plenty of scholars here in the palace, the latest tools and technologies. And I would like to oversee the process personally.”

Ru stood firm, gripping Fen's hand with whitened knuckles. “Forgive me, Lady Regent, but even the King’s Scholars are no match for the Cornelian professors. The palace’s library is grand but pales in comparison to the Tower’s halls of books. Every possible precaution is already in place at the Tower. And I fear I could not live with myself knowing that I brought a dangerous object into the palace, should it… well, there’s no knowing what it can do.”

There was another rumble from the gathered onlookers, this one much louder and a bit frightened. A few gasps arose from the crowd.

The regent still appeared unconvinced. She leaned on her hand again, brow furrowed. “You must know that I dislike this idea.”

Then a figure moved out of the shadows behind the throne, approaching the regent’s chair. Ru hadn’t noticed him there — one of the white-clad people, standing silently and statuesque all this time. He was pale and almost ethereal, with a shock of long golden hair falling around his shoulders.

As she watched, the man in white leaned over the regent’s shoulder and whispered something in her ear. She cocked her head as he spoke, a thoughtful look crossing her face. Then she waved a finger, and he retreated back to the shadows.

“Very well,” said Sigrun, sounding resigned. “Perhaps the Tower is the most logical place to uncover the mysteries of this artifact.”

Ru curtsied, trying not to show the fervent relief that washed over her. “Thank you, Lady Regent.”

“You will depart tomorrow morning,” said Sigrun. “And tonight, you will attend dinner with me as my personal guests. Sybeth, see that they do not leave the palace grounds.” With that, she waved a hand and sat back in her chair, her epaulets and medals clanking as she did.

It was as if a spell had broken. The clusters of courtiers about the room slowly returned to their usual chatter and delicate laughter. Women flicked their fans, footmen came in with trays of finger food, and somewhere a lutist began playing a lively tune.

Ru turned to Fen, her hand still clasped in his. She let go of him in a rush, suddenly aware that she’d been clinging to him. They shared a silent look of mutual surprise and relief. She let out a long exhale.

“You did well,” Fen said. He stood out like a sore thumb from the surrounding courtiers, their pastel silks and dainty mannerisms so at odds with him. He was formidable, all in black, and somehow he radiated competence and power. Ru knew he was only the third son of a marquis, but if she had only just met him, she might have guessed he was a foreign prince. Or a king's general.

Fen raised an eyebrow, a smile lighting his features and Ru glanced away quickly. She’d been staring.

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