Page 67 of The Iron Dagger
“That doesn’t sound like him. I would have expected him to coax you and stop at nothing until he gained your favor back.”
“Gideon?” Sarai laughed incredulously. “He’s no more loyal than a jackrabbit. At least, not to me.”
Hara could almost believe it, but it did not match the man she knew. It was hard to imagine that Gideon had taken Sarai’s loss of interest with grace and let her go. She was so beautiful and intelligent that Hara would think him a fool if he did.
As Hara contemplated this, her eyes fell on some pieces of gold jewelry scattered on the worktop. The gems had been pried out so that only the empty prongs and links remained. Sarai caught her looking and said, “I sacrificed my personal collection to try and amplify it, but it’s not nearly enough. So far, the solution corrodes gold instead of amplifies it, and I’m running out of jewelry to test.”
“It’s very noble of you to seek out another way to get precious metals instead of mining,” said Hara.
Sarai’s expression darkened. “Have you ever been to one? To a mine?”
Hara shook her head. She was more than a little curious about where all of this splendor and wealth came from.
“Melietta can tell you what it is like. She worked in the mines seeking metal seams.”
Hara wondered if she could ever earn enough of Melietta’s trust to hear her story. Perhaps she never would, so long as she worked in the palace as a Recruiter anyway.
“I am going tomorrow to try and get more sorbite. Would you mind accompanying me to test the samples?” asked Sarai. “Sometimes my supplier makes mistakes and gives me plain rock.”
They agreed to meet at dawn, and as Sarai began to show Hara back through the narrow hallways, they spotted Geremy Flints, the recordkeeper. He hurried down a hallway, looking as though he did not wish to be stopped. Hara thought it curiousthat an archivist should need to visit the laboratories, but he was an odd man.
Seeing him here gave her an uneasy feeling, and she wondered if she was being paranoid. She remembered how starved he’d been for conversation; perhaps he visited the R and D group for human interaction. He seemed to be the type of man who inserted himself in places he may not be needed or wanted, and perhaps being an archivist was so dull that he snooped on the researchers’ work regularly. His presence could have nothing to do with her.
In any case, she was perfectly within her liberty to visit a colleague, and they’d not discussed anything untoward. Hara had been very careful not to say anything that Turnswallow or the other Recruiters did not already know. If he was spying, he would have nothing to report.
Gideon
Gideon paced agitatedly before the fire in Hara’s room. He was bursting with the need to speak to her and had spent the day ruminating over the conversation with his father. Even the blasted cat wasn’t there; it was probably skulking around the kitchens. The last light of dusk filled her room before her chamber door swung open and she entered.
“Thank the gods,” he said, crossing the room in three long strides. “Where have you been all day?”
“I was in the holding chambers for hours verifying criminals’ stories,” said Hara, groaning as she removed her boots and unclasped her reticule and knife harness. “I’ve never been so happy to be in the present.”
She collapsed into the large settee before the fire, and Gideon went to sit next to her. She looked positively exhausted; his news could wait a few moments more.
“Do you need a drink? Some food?” he said, reaching for the wine decanter.
“No, I ate in the canteen,” she said. She must have sensed his agitated state because she asked, “Have you been waiting here all afternoon?”
“Hara, my father all but confirmed there is a magical prison. It is on Mount Herebore, to the northeast. It’s not far from Perule, perhaps a day’s ride on horseback.”
Hara sat up, attentive, and Gideon told her all his father had said. He’d already poured over maps of the mountain, but unsurprisingly his search proved fruitless. There would hardly be a road and a nicely marked landmark pointing out a secret magical prison.
Hara listened closely, a million thoughts behind her eyes.
“I need to see Corvus’ past,” she said slowly when he was finished. “We need to learn where this place is through his memories. He wouldn’t have mental shields the way Turnswallow does—he’s not a sorcerer. I could try to see his memories through your father, since they have such a long and close relationship. But I do not think your father would clasp hands with me for several minutes like the girl at the inn.”
“No, I don’t see how we could manage that,” said Gideon, trying to imagine his father agreeing to a divining session.
“But I would only need to be near Corvus for a few moments. I need to get close to him, to see and smell and hear him, and if possible, to touch him. How can I do that?”
“At the ball,” said Gideon. “My mother invited him.”
“How do we know he will be there?” she asked.
“Well, he is my godfather,” said Gideon, and he could see Hara’s throat move up and down as she swallowed, processing this new information. “He usually attends our family functions. It would be perfectly natural to introduce you there.”
Hara nodded, looking resigned rather than eager. Gideon reached out to brush her cheek. “I understand why you are frightened, but you needn’t be. He’s only a man, and he will be in good spirits, surrounded by his closest friends and advisors.”
