Page 69 of Death of the Glass Angel
“Can you do that?”
“No.” Felsin shook his head. “Fate is not a script.” He said cryptically, stepping forward to place a warm, comforting hand on her arm.
Distracted by the heat and presence behind her, Janus’ attention wavered from the observatory’s incredible ceiling. Alfaris caught her eye and nodded his head up.
“I don’t see anything,” Janus said.
“Perhaps you aren’t looking in the right place.” He suggested. “Look at it from whatever angle you wish.”
Accepting his offer, Janus wandered the circular room, eyes darting up and down, watching the sky shift with every step. Stacks of luggage littered one corner while books and parchments were piled upon a table. A large aquarium housed a small turtle, happily chewing on a piece of lettuce.
Assorted baubles littered a display case, too many for Janus to observe in a single glance.
Glancing nervously over her shoulder, Janus wandered to the table and looked over the papers. Most of these were not academic but rather. . . stories? Books of childish adventure and a few epic poems. A case contained a nugget of strange metal, clearly a raw lump yet lustrous like refined steel. But a note caught her attention, tucked beneath two books.
You’re meddling.
Or did you not mean for him to die?
Every step we take will have consequences. I taught you that a long time ago. Paths paved with good intentions leadto inevitable ruin, and our only salvation lies behind deceit and death.
Take the boy in if you must, but do not grow attached to him. He will die before the end. By your own hand.
A scrap was all that remained of the letter, and it was unsigned, but Janus recognized the handwriting. Pretty, but uneven; penned by a blind hand. This was from Gemellus.
“Interested in that, are you?”
Janus jumped out of her skin and spun around to see Alfaris watching her. Stuttering, she scrambled for an excuse, settling on the strange rock. “What is this?”
“Ah.” Alfaris walked over and picked up the case, turning it over. He did not sound angry. “Anmarite.” He tapped the glass. “An ore found in small deposits in the Altanese mountains.”
“I’ve heard of that,” Janus said softly. Eros had been fascinated by rocks. This kind, in particular. She’d never cared; never listened. Another regret.
“I’m surprised. Anmarite has no use and is difficult to mine. You see, it’s resistant to heat, and any attempt to shape it in a traditional forge has failed.”
“Um. Interesting.”
“Isn’t it?” Alfaris set the case back on the desk.
“Did you study that at Valeria?”
Alfaris laughed. “Do I look like I studied at Valeria?”
“I figured you met Gemellus there. Maybe you taught him. . .” Janus trailed off.
No, that wasn’t right. The letter from Alfaris implied he had been a child when Gemellus took him in. But Gemellus looked no older than forty-five. The math didn’t add up.
“Or did he teach you?”
“If I could claim a tutor, it would be Gem,” Alfaris confirmed. “It’s kind of you to imply I had a formal education. Most think me a wild eccentric.”
“Everyone but Felsin thinks so, huh? How did you two meet?”
Alfaris stared at the case before picking it back up again. He palmed it as he paced towards the aquarium. “I was acquainted with his parents.”
Janus trailed after him. “You know Royal Chief Heras?”
“Yes.”
