“And puulta is an old word for the noise of an army on the march, like thunder,” said Chetiin. “The fifth transformation of thunder returned-the fifth succession of the Second Puulta dynasty.”
“Which led us to what you heard when you broke in. Kitaas knew of a history of the late empire that had a very specific reference to Saabak Puulta. She brought it to me today.” He tapped an open book with the end of the scroll. “It confirms what’s in the scroll!”
Ekhaas’s face tightened. “Don’t be so certain. Let me see that.” She picked up the book and, marking the page with her finger, looked at the title and author. Her expression turned grim. “Shaardat the Elder. No wonder Kitaas knew it. Archivists adore Shaardat’s interpretations.”
“So?”
“Duur’kala might cling to tradition, but Shaardat wallowed in it.” Ekhaas set the book down. “I knew I’d heard the expression ‘the time when muut was broken’ before. It survived Shaardat, and it means the nobles rebelled against their duty-their muut-to the emperor and to the people of the empire.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Tenquis. Whatever is written on Giis Puulta’s Stela of Rewards, it’s talking about the breakdown in social order, not literally about the Shield of Nobles.”
Geth watched Tenquis’s mouth open and close as he tried to find a counter-argument, but Chetiin answered before he could. “What if it isn’t?” the old goblin asked thoughtfully. “Stories can contain mistakes that are transmitted across generations. The scroll talks about the shield. Shaardat may have misinterpreted what was written on the stela.”
Tenquis’s eyebrows rose. Ekhaas answered grudgingly. “It’s possible. But even if she did, what does it tell us other than when the Shield of Nobles was shattered?”
“Perhaps there’s more written on the Stela of Rewards.”
“I’ve never heard of the fortress of Zaal Piik before. I have no idea where it would have been located.”
An idea burst over Geth. “But maybe Kitaas did.” He turned back to the paper that Kitaas had tried to destroy. “Tenquis, when Kitaas said she’d brought you the final piece of the puzzle, is this what-?”
He didn’t need to finish the question, and Tenquis didn’t need to answer, because Kitaas went mad with fury. Shrieking behind her gag and writhing against her bonds, she threw her body across the floor like some grotesque worm. Geth and Chetiin hopped out of the way. Kitaas hit the legs of the table hard enough to send books sliding around. One fell onto the scroll-the brittle rolls cracked and split. Another threatened the torn page, but Tenquis caught it. Geth reached down and grabbed Kitaas by the back of her robe, ready to drag her to a safe distance.
Ekhaas stopped him. “No, keep her close,” she said coldly. “She might be useful.” She bent over the bits of paper.
Restraining the still struggling archivist with one arm, Geth looked too. Although Kitaas had done severe damage to the page, a few large pieces were still intact. Tenquis had managed to piece several more sections together. The entire page was covered in the dark, angular characters of Goblin script. Geth gripped Wrath’s hilt with his free hand. Show me, he willed the sword.
Wrath translated spoken Goblin for him with no special command, but Geth had discovered early in his possession of the blade that it could also allow him to read the language. The characters on the page didn’t change to his eyes, but in his mind they shifted suddenly from meaningless scribbles to real words.
The page was a list of artifacts. A Tome Bound in Dragonhide. The Reliquary of Waroot Gar. Seven Blades of Shaarat Kol. A Talon Found in Aarlak. Each was accompanied by a description, some longer, some shorter.
“This is a page from the Register,” said Ekhaas in amazement. She stared at her sister. “You stole a page from the Register and were willing to destroy it rather than let me see it.”
Kitaas’s ears went back. Her eyes blazed rage. A shiver ran through Geth. He almost pushed Kitaas away from him, but just then Tenquis gave a gasp. “Horns of Ohr Kaluun!” He laid several scraps of paper together and lifted his hands away. “It doesn’t matter where Zaal Piik is, Ekhaas. The stela is here in Volaar Draal!”
Kitaas hissed again and kicked out at the table. Geth wrapped both arms around her again and dragged her back. Ekhaas looked between the torn page and her sister. Tenquis ignored them, studying the paper with a fascinated intensity. “‘The Reward Stela of Giis Puulta,’” he read aloud. “‘Carved of white stone and commemorating the allies of Giis Puulta in his ascension as the sixth marhu of the Second Puulta dynasty. Collected by Baaen Dhakaan in ruins below the Hammerfist Mountains in the years 2310 since the fall and 1246 since the founding. Transported to Volaar Draal. Displayed before the Shrine of Glories until the years 3675 and 2619, then placed by the Gallery of Dogs in the Vault of the Eye.’” He looked up, his face fallen. “The stela is in the vaults.”
Frustration rose in Geth. “Grandfather Rat is laughing at us. We find a possible clue to stopping Tariic, and we can’t get to it.” He glanced at Ekhaas. “Diitesh isn’t going to let us enter the vaults.”
“Then we won’t ask her permission.” Ekhaas raised her head, expression grim but ears standing tall. “We don’t have a choice. We’ve already broken sanctuary. When Tuura Dhakaan finds out what’s happened here, she’ll be bound by honor and duty to throw us out of Volaar Draal. If we don’t act now, we’re never going to get a chance to examine the stela.”
“And how do we get into the vaults?”
Ekhaas turned to face Kitaas. Geth felt the archivist stiffen in his arms, her anger becoming alarm at the icy distance in Ekhaas’s eyes. “My dear sister will help us,” she said.
CHAPTER FIVE
16 Aryth
The entrance to the vaults of Volaar Draal was a wide maw, cast into shadow by pale ghostlights hung beneath deep eaves. It was an unfriendly building, jealously guarding the secrets it had swallowed over the centuries.
No guards stood beneath the ghostlights, though. None lurked in the shadows. From the cover of the nearest building-a good fifteen paces across a dark-flagged plaza-Ekhaas stood with Geth and Tenquis and watched the massive doors.
“I can’t believe it isn’t guarded,” murmured Tenquis. His quiet words were at odds with his appearance. Disguised by illusion with her magic, he wore the face and body of a bugbear.
“There are always archivists inside,” Ekhaas told him, “but they don’t need guards outside. Intruders would need to pass the gates of Volaar Draal and then the entire city if they wanted to reach the vaults. And none of the Kech Volaar would dare to trespass without permission.”
“You’re going to.”
The words were a twisting knife. Ekhaas scowled at him.
“Quiet,” said Geth. Cloaked, like Tenquis in the illusion of a bugbear, he didn’t take his eyes off the doorway. “I think I saw Chetiin.” He pointed. “There was movement just below the light on the left.”
“There’s a bat lurking there. You saw it.” Chetiin’s voice emerged from the shadow just at Geth’s elbow. The shifter jumped, and even Ekhaas felt her heart leap. Chetiin gave a wry half-grin of amusement at his own stealth. “There are no traps, no warning magic,” he said. “Nothing to stop us entering.”
Ekhaas nodded. “Remember to walk like bugbears until we’re past the archivists inside,” she told Geth and Tenquis. Two shaggy heads bobbed. Chetiin simply faded back into the shadows once more. Ekhaas braced herself for what she was about to do and stepped out into the plaza.
The unfamiliar length of Kitaas’s black robe tangled around her legs almost immediately. She twitched it free and strode on with as much arrogance as she could muster. How her sister managed to walk in the garment every day was beyond her, but at least it was bulky enough to conceal her own clothes underneath.
Kitaas slept beneath the table in the room where they had confronted her and Tenquis. Her towering anger had been no match for Ekhaas’s song. Soothed by the magic, she would sleep through the night. She’d been frightened at the end of their confrontation. Ekhaas could only imagine what Kitaas had thought she might do, but all she’d really wanted was her robe. Kitaas would have enough to worry about when she woke in the morning. The thought of Kitaas trying to explaining her actions to Diitesh gave Ekhaas a warm, satisfied feeling.
It was almost enough to quiet the doubt that pulled at her.
When did I stop feeling what she feels? Ekhaas wondered. When did I stop defending the sanctity of the
