Page 61 of Destroyer

“If I’m being honest,” Ru said finally, seeing Gwyneth straighten in anticipation, “Idothink Fen is handsome.”

Gwyneth deflated. “That’s it?”

Ru shrugged.

“That’s you spilling your emotional insides to me?”

Ru was torn between her desire to gossip with her friend and her heart of hearts, which told her that Fen wasn’t some silly crush, some handsome traveling historian. He was more than that — she felt it in the air between them, the way he’d felt familiar to her from the moment they met. She was afraid to voice it aloud, and even more afraid that if she did, he might not reciprocate.

Ru tucked her hair behind an ear. “I just don’t think I should be talking about our research colleague like that.”

Gwyneth looked deeply unimpressed. “So you wouldn’t mind if I make a move, then?”

Ru froze, her stomach lurching. “A move?”

“On Fen.” Gwyneth’s smile was brightly innocent. “You won’t mind?”

“Not at all,” Ru managed, jaw clenched.

“See!” exclaimed Gwyneth, eliciting another mass shushing. “Youdolike him.”

“Of course I do,” Ru replied airily, pushing delicately past Gwyneth toward the library’s exit, stack of books precarious in her arms. “He’s my friend. And now he’s our colleague. So if you don’t mind, you’ll keep these romance book questions to yourself from now on.”

Gwyneth snorted. “Whatever you say.”

They left the library and made their way down the hall, toward the staircase that would eventually lead them to their makeshift laboratory in the dungeon. Fen and Archie were down there now, setting up lighting and making the place as serviceable as possible.

Ru rolled her eyes. “Hurry up,” she said, pulling ahead of Gwyneth with a hurried gait. “These books are heavy.”

* * *

When the sunhad set and the very last remnants of indigo clung to the western edges of the sky, Ru slipped out of her room and into the hall. She had spent most of the afternoon holed up alone in her room, rereading her paper, taking notes as she read.

But as she worked, her thoughts drifted constantly away from her, and by the time evening fell, it was impossible to stay focused. The rigidity of scientific fact had always come so easily to her; she had never before found it so difficult to read and think for hours about a single scientific problem. But now, with the artifact so close, her thoughts were ever drawn toward a darker, more unknown place.

She had needed something solid, something staid in the face of everything. So she’d set aside her reading, pulled her messy hair into a bun, hastily shoved her feet into boots, and tied the laces carelessly.

What she needed now, she thought, she would find in the laboratories.

The dormitory wing was lively at this hour, academics hanging out of open doorways and shouting to one another, some even sitting on the carpeted floor to chat, backs leaning against stone walls.

Ru avoided their gazes as she passed, but she could feel them watching. Not with malice, or even judgment, but with sharp-eyed curiosity. She was almost to the broad staircase that would eventually lead her to the laboratory wing when a voice called out.

“Delara.”

She spun to see Archie, hanging out of his door, teeth flashing in a grin. He’d obviously seen her pass and darted to the door; his cheeks were ever so slightly pink with exertion.

“Come on,” he said, jerking his chin as an invitation. “I’ve just made tea.” She sighed, shaking her head with a smile. The laboratory wing could wait.

Archie’s room, like Ru’s, was cozy and small but private. One of the walls was still painted with a centuries-old mural of a deer hidden in a copse of trees, the paint chipping and faded, but still beautiful. A small fire burned in the hearth, crackling comfortingly. Archie handed Ru a cup of tea. Steam curled lazily up from the hot liquid, chamomile and citrus with a hint of honey.

They settled onto the soft, somewhat musty couch that faced the hearth, a worn velvet thing that had been there since, Ru could only assume, the beginning of time. Books were strewn about the room, a staple of most academics’ living spaces. But Archie’s were stacked neatly, each stack differentiated by subject.

“I know everyone must be asking,” Archie said, sipping his tea, eyes on Ru. “But… are you… you know, all right? Not taken by madness or ready to leap out a five-story window or anything like that?”

Ru smiled despite herself. She and Archie hadn’t had a moment alone together since Dig Site 33. He’d been around her, cracked jokes with her, and made casual conversation. But it was always with the others, or in a crowded hallway. A pang caught at her heart; she had missed him.

“I’m sorry I left Dig Site 33 so suddenly,” she said, glancing away. That moment had played over so many times in her head, waving goodbye to Archie as she rode off with the king’s riders. She had ached for his presence while she’d been away, his irreverent remarks, his trusted and brilliant mind. And most of all, she’d wondered if she shouldn’t have stayed. With Archie, the professors, all of them. None of this would have happened.

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