Page 43 of The Soul of a Rogue

Her gaze shifted from the wooden shards to the lower right corner. Most of the tiles were still intact on the wall in that area and the lines matched up perfectly to the missing chunk of wood.

“Bloody flugbusters.”

He laughed, loud and booming throughout the chamber, then grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into him, his eyes never leaving the wall. “Exactly.”

“But what is it? Weren’t we looking for some kind of message? What did you say the markings on the other sides of the tiles were—Norse?”

His head finally turned to her, his eyes bright. “It’s a map, Elle. A map behind the ring.”

She stared at the lower right corner of the mosaic, then looked at the whole of it, finally seeing it. It was a land mass. An island. Behind the ring, brown tiles met up with the blue tiles along the edges—water.

A bloody map.

“But a map of where?”

His head tilted, almost completely touching his shoulder as he stared at the wall. “I’m not sure. Do you have an atlas?”

“No, but I know who has hundreds of them, and we’re going to his place tonight.”

Rune turned to her. “So you’re finally inviting me to accompany you to Lord Kallen’s ball?”

“Did I forget to do that?” A teasing grin came to her face. “It would seem I have no choice now.”

He laughed, grabbing her about the waist and lifting her until she was eye level with him. “I accept your most begrudging invitation. But only if I get first rights to removing your ball gown afterward.”

She chuckled. “We’ll see how well you dance.”

He nipped the tip of her nose. “You are in for a treat. My dancing skills are legendary.”

“Legendary on the ship?”

His left eyebrow cocked upward. “Something like that.” He set her down onto her feet. “Come, let us draw the whole of this in detail before the lanterns run out of fuel.”

Two hours later, they moved their drawings and slew of lanterns upward to the Gold Chamber where scant rays of sunlight trailed into the main bathing room from the crumbling stairwell at the far end of the room.

Elle stepped to the side of the opening in the floor with the ladder leaning downward, setting down her still-lit lantern by the wall on the north side of the space.

While most of this room, the Gold Chamber, was much cleaner—Lord Kallen had excavated this area down to the original mosaics that still existed and all the debris had been removed from the bathing pool—there were still a few tiles that had fallen from the walls since he’d last been down there.

Waiting for Rune to come up, she stared at the mosaic of a sea serpent that stretched the length of the wall, using her fingernail to scrape at the mortar where a few tiles had gone missing. Glancing about her toes, she found three and picked up one of the rogue blue tiles from the ground. Looking at it, she tested it in a few spots before finding the right curves of the mortar where it had sat.

Rune set the three lanterns strung along his arm onto the floor and then hauled himself off the ladder, standing up next to her.

“You’re right about the tiles below.” She turned to him, holding up the blue tile in her hand. “I should have noticed this long ago, how the tiles were cut so different. And the red tint in the mortar down below should have been obvious. There isn’t any red in this mortar up here.”

He looked to the wall, his fingernail flicking into the loose mortar. “So the chamber and the mosaics were done at different times?”

“Much different, I imagine. We’ll have to ask Lord Kallen about it—this is what he is an expert in—mosaics, ancient artwork like this. He’s done such an incredible amount of research on the matter in his lifetime.”

Rune looked about the chamber at the mosaics along the walls and she followed his eyes. Cherubs and cupid and centaurs in wide scrolling scenes. The longest stretch of wall opposite them held a set of nine sea horses streaming to the left in a band led by Poseidon lifting a trident high in attack. A battle. A battle with an invisible opponent, as the next wall had nothing but crumbling stone on it. A mosaic lost to time or never completed, she was never sure.

His gaze landed on Elle. “I cannot believe you’d spend your days buried under here.”

She looked past his shoulder at the mighty Poseidon. “It was this or…”

“Or what?”

She turned fully to him. “What I do when I’m above ground.” Her hand waved over her head. “You say I’m feckless, and maybe I am. But this—these dusty old tiles—and aimless liaisons are what I’m meant for. It is how I am able to fill my days. It is what I can bear.” Her hand reached out, her fingertips brushing lightly against the tiles. “No, it’s more than that. This is where I can find fleeting moments of happiness. Lord Kallen has taught me so much about properly excavating ruins and I truly do love it. It’s productive and the specific method of it centers me. Setting back in place a tile that was thought lost. Gently scrubbing away dirt to reveal a beautiful translucent tile that doesn’t belong amongst the others, but is perfectly in place. In those few moments, it’s magic.”

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