Page 84 of Destroyer

And now, surrounded by the boisterous energy brought on by the impending party, Ru became inconsolably stressed. Too much was happening — and at the same timenothappening — all at once. She felt lonelier than she had in a long time. She couldn’t talk to Gwyneth or Archie about the way the artifact spoke to her, nor could she talk to Fen — for entirely different reasons.

She needed support, advice, a calm and objective point of view to set her back on her feet.

So, both in an effort to seek solace and to further avoid the topic of Lord D’Luc’s party, instead of heading to the dungeon to begin faking experiments for the benefit of the Children, Ru turned and strode down the hall in the opposite direction — toward the professorial wing.

This part of the Tower was quiet in the mornings, dimly lit and comforting. The ceilings were high, arched with dark wooden beams, the walls wood-paneled and hung with paintings, diagrams, and the odd piece of taxidermy. Distant voices echoed through the corridor, and somewhere a door opened and shut, muffled. Ru passed a cluster of academics as they strolled in the opposite direction, only one of them shooting her a curious glance as they went.

Professor Thorne’s office was locked when she arrived. He had always been her favorite after Obralle, a steady, thoughtful man with sharp insights and a sharper mind, and a sense of emotional intelligence that rivaled only Professor Acorn’s. She thought Thorne would best provide the balance of logical and emotional advice that she sought.

She knocked. There was no answer.

“Professor Thorne?” she called through the door. She had never known him not to be in his office during his official office hours.

“Good morning, Delara.”

Ru turned to see Professor Acorn walking toward her with a steaming mug, clearly on the way to his own office down the hall, his gold-brown hair falling to one side, framing a softly oblong face. “Looking for Thorne?”

She nodded. “Do you know where he is?”

“Sick with a little ailment.” Acorn sipped his coffee, his tone jovial despite the subject matter. “I hope I haven’t caught it myself. Far too many people, far too close to one another in this Tower.”

“I see.” Ru’s heart sank. She had been sure Thorne could provide her with the sense of solidity that she desperately needed.

“Might I assist you in some way?” Acorn asked, steam drifting up from his coffee.

Ru briefly thought of declining. She knew Acorn would be far more inclined to see past her words and come to conclusions about her feelings and state of mind, which she wasn’t particularly keen for anyone to see at the moment. But she needed immediate reassurance, a logical but empathetic mind, and Acorn was here now.

“Thank you, Professor,” she said, and with a broad smile, he showed her to his office.

The room felt almost claustrophobic. Mismatched shelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling, brimming with various books, minerals, potted plants, and artifacts. An enormous, delicately carved cuckoo clock hung from one of the few clear sections of the wall, painted in bright colors, waiting for the hour to strike.

“How can I assist the brilliant Ruellian Delara?” Acorn asked, once they were settled — he at his desk and Ru seated across from him in a velvet-upholstered swiveling chair. Sunlight streamed in from a tall window behind the desk, illuminating motes that spun about the professor’s head, a corona of dust.

Ru thought for a moment. She had been so determined to seek advice, and reassurance, that she hadn’t considered how to voice those needs. She decided to veer as closely to the truth as possible without rousing any needling questions.

“We’re having difficulties,” she said, gripping the armrests of her chair, hiding the fact that her hands shook slightly. “With the study of the artifact, that is. It seems there’s been a mistake in communication. The major breakthrough that Lord D’Luc was told about, well, it… doesn’t exist. There was no breakthrough.”

The professor regarded her with a thoughtful expression, and rubbed the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “I see. But you have made progress in your research, otherwise?”

“Yes,” Ru said, hating that the lie came so easily. “I mean… mostly.”

Acorn squeezed his eyes shut, pushing his hair back. “I seem to have a headache coming on… sorry, Delara. Right. So you’re saying the regent’s advisor has a rather exaggerated view of what sort of discoveries you’ve made so far in your research of the artifact.”

“Yes, exactly.”

He stood suddenly and closed the curtains, drenching the room in immediate gloom. “That’s better,” he muttered. “Bit of a migraine. You were saying?”

“It’s just that I’m concerned the advisor will be… I don’t know,angryupon discovering that he traveled all the way here for nothing. What do you suggest we do?”

“Hmm,” said Acorn, staring at nothing. “Yes. A good question. Lord D’Luc is an understanding man, though, is he not? Mix-ups happen. No need to worry. Apologies, but you must excuse me, as I seem to have quite suddenly taken ill.” He frowned, rubbing the spot between his eyebrows.

“Maybe you’ve caught Thorne’s ailment after all,” Ru said, hurrying to stand, moving away from the professor. He only nodded, pressing a hand to his forehead, as she slipped out of his dark office and into the corridor.

She strode back through the professorial wing wracked with grim thoughts, her anxiety even worse than before. Thorne’s illness, and now Acorn… But that concern was quickly pushed aside to make room for the more pressing matter, the arrival of Lord D’Luc. Ru realized with growing despair that she and her team would have to make a play of it, construct an entire experiment based on nothing at all, and somehow fake the artifact’s reaction when she spoke to it directly. Or she would lose the artifact altogether, she had no doubt.

But how? What could they do?

On her way back to the dungeon, Ru tried to focus on the number of flagstones in the hall, the number of doors in the entire Tower, the number of pages inside books in all the Tower’s libraries, as a way of calming her thoughts. But her mind circled constantly back to an image of Lord D’Luc forcing Ru to speak to the artifact, threatening her, holding her hand to the thing, until blackness exploded from the surface and darkness fell.

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