Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 169943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 850(@200wpm)___ 680(@250wpm)___ 566(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 850(@200wpm)___ 680(@250wpm)___ 566(@300wpm)
But when I get to the side of the sarcophagus and peer in, the sight inside is strangely calming. It’s a woman, a thousand years dead, her hands clasped over her heart in a benediction to Lady Asteria of the Skies. Her skin has withered tight against her skeleton, her long hair spread out about her in a decaying tangle. Her head is covered with a faded fabric and circlet, and her dress is of the same faded blue that must have been vivid and beautiful once. Her expression is serene, as if she’s finding the afterlife as calm and enjoyable as promised, a hint of a smile on her tight, narrow lips. Preserving lichen coats the inside walls of the sarcophagus and is dusted over her corpse.
“She’s beautiful,” I say, and to me she is. She’s slept here, undisturbed, for over a thousand years. Longer, because she would have been buried before Old Prell fell into the earth. “The blue of her dress is called Asterian blue, and they wore it in funeral rites so Asteria would smile upon them—”
Gwenna nudges me. “Save the history lesson. Look at her hands.”
I look. I don’t see it at first, because I’m too busy noticing all the wrong things, like the embroidery on the cuffs and the fact that her belt is crusted with jewels and her shoes probably are, too. She has bracelets on each wrist, and each one has glyphs on it, and I want to pull one off and interpret it even though that seems a terrible thing to do—
—and then I notice the ring.
Her hands are folded over her heart, one under the other. The one hidden underneath is wearing a ring, and the ring glows with a faint reddish light. It’s the same shade as the rest of the light, which is why I didn’t notice it at first.
I suck in a breath.
“Is that the same ring?” Gwenna asks. “The match to the one we have?”
“It could be.”
But I know it is. I just know.
“Who do you think she was?”
“Someone important. She was buried with her jewelry instead of it being passed down to the family, which means they had plenty of wealth. Her dress is one of nobility, too.” The inside of the sarcophagus has more glyphs along the edge, and I run a finger over them, deciphering as I go. “ ‘My beloved wife. My other half. We will be together in Asteria’s paradise. Wait for me.’ ” I touch the final symbol. “This is probably their family name, but it’s unpronounceable in our language.”
“How beautiful,” Gwenna breathes. “He must have really loved her.”
I eye the little smile of the dead woman and stupidly, foolishly, think of Hawk again. If we’d had time, would he have loved me like this woman was loved? I’m an idiot for even thinking about it right now, but I can’t help it.
“May I see?” Mereden asks, getting to her feet and keeping her weight off her ankle.
Gwenna and I exchange places with Lark and Mereden, and as I lean against the slab, I run my fingers over the glyphs on it. I know they say the same thing.
Beloved wife.
Other half.
Wait for me.
Lark sits on the edge of the sarcophagus and gazes down at the woman. Then she glances over at me. “You should take the ring, Aspeth.”
Her suggestion feels like blasphemy. “I can’t. It’s hers.” I glance over at my staff. “I should return the other to her. We don’t know where her husband’s body is, or if it’s even here. At least we can reunite them that way.”
“She’s dead,” Lark says, ever practical. “She has no use for two rings, much less one. You should take them and save your father’s hold. I’m sure the dead would understand.”
But the very idea feels wrong to me. Whenever I’ve thought about the guild, I’ve had such a romantic view of it. Of dashing through tunnels and uncovering artifacts just lying about, waiting to be retrieved. Now I know the reality. There are spiders the size of plates. There are ratlings and cave-ins and guild politics.
And the dead have faces. And we’re robbing them.
I shake my head. “I don’t think I can.”
“Now is not the time to grow a conscience, Aspeth,” Gwenna says, worried. “You said these rings were powerful. That you needed them. They’re here. We’re here. Might as well take them.”
Take them. Become a grave robber.
Because that’s what the guild is, right? It’s got a fancy name, but it’s just a bunch of people looting corpses. The thought hurts me down to my soul. Is this what I’ve idolized? Glamorized? Dreamed of all my life? I want to learn about Old Prell and the magics they used every single day. I don’t want to strip the dead of their possessions. I don’t know if I can do one without the other.