“I am going to open these new ones,” Faust said, but Rene just waved at him to continue. He hesitated. These looked different and magic pushed at the chest. One had blue stones embedded in the sides, and the other held an array of precious stones.
Ignas stepped beside Faust and motioned with a grin.
Faust’s lips twitched into a smile, and he tapped the one with precious stones. The lock was louder on this one and suggested the chest was older. He reached for Ignas.
Ignas wove their fingers together and squeezed.
Faust gripped back, the magic rolling through him again, but Ignas’s solid presence kept him grounded. He ran his fingers over a blue stone on the second one, and a rush of wind sparked from his sky stone. He steadied himself and let go of Ignas’s hand.
Ignas flirted with the tip of Faust’s finger until they no longer touched and brought his attention to the chests.
Faust opened the first chest and pushed the lid away. It had three polished stones. He picked up a white one and his vision drifted to a place far beyond the cities he’d ever seen. A beautiful young man stood in white, and his long dark hair billowed in the wind. Faust shook his head.
He reached for the red stone, and his vision flew to a battlefield surrounded by many fallen knights, but one person stood there. His back was broad, and his battle armor only covered the vital parts of his dark skin. The man’s dirty blond hair was caked with blood. He turned toward him.
Faust blinked hard, his hand empty of the stone.
Ignas held the stone in his hand, eyeing Faust. “You were going to drop it.”
“Oh.” Faust flushed. “Thank you.” He grabbed the blue stone next, and he saw a young man with long blond hair in a short blue tunic. The man jumped up, and intricate blue wings burst from his back, wind flattening the plants, a hint of laughter echoing.
“Faust!”
Faust gasped, the stone falling from his fingertips, bouncing on the floor. He met Nik’s concerned gaze and gave him a small smile.
“Why do you keep staring off?” Nik asked.
Faust shrugged. “I was just wondering what the stones meant.”
“Well, don’t keep it all to yourself. Don’t be like Konrad.”
Faust laughed. “He raised me. It would be quite difficult not to turn out like him.”
Ignas picked up the blue gem. “Are you all right?”
“Perfectly fine,” Faust said. No one seemed to see what he had, but the last person he saw bore wings like Emoris and Lathil’s green ones. He pushed the top open on the second chest and sighed. “More journals, only two, though.”
Rene’s attention piqued. “Are they more records?”
Faust flipped one leather journal open and glanced over the parchment. The entries were shorter and held sketches. Something told him that Rene was not supposed to read this one. He turned to the front page and blinked. It held a message in the current lettering telling him to keep it safe. “This appears to be a daily log of some kind. I will keep these to transcribe.” They would be easier to translate with far less jargon.
Ignas peeked over Faust’s shoulder.
Faust closed the journal with a snap. “No one else can read this.”
“How do you know that?” Nik asked as he held the white, polished stone.
“I just know,” Faust said. He hoped this journal would explain what he saw.
Footsteps rushed up the stairs, the room grew silent until a knock came at the door. “Ignas,” Zara called through the door and opened it fast. “We can’t stay much longer.”
Ignas narrowed his eyes. “What did the scouts find?”
“There are rumors in the wind that the Kingsley Knights want to arrest Lord Arcus. They are to bring him to Emoris for an audience,” Zara rushed to say. “They are checking all the inns and taverns.”
Faust looked to Ignas. “Will we be able to leave without being seen? The caravan might stick out.”
“The caravan will be too dangerous,” Ignas agreed. “Zara, order the caravan to head south and meet us in the second town from here.”
“How do you propose we travel?” Rene asked and gathered the journals.
“I will secure passage on a Volliare set to leave in a few hours,” Zara said.
Faust shared a smile with her. “I’m counting on you.”
Zara bowed. “Anything for you, Lord Arcus.” She glanced to Ignas with a cheeky grin.
“I trust this matter to you,” Ignas said, voice taut. “We will meet at the docks in two hours.”
Zara nodded and left, barking orders as she descended the stairs.
Faust stared at his brother. “I am going to leave decrees with you to administer to the Guild of Artisans in the name of Lord Arcus. I want the conditions of the people to change here, and these changes can be enacted throughout the kingdom with my order.”
Nik sighed. “As you wish, oh great court merchant.”
“Konrad wants me to shake it up, and that is what I plan on doing.”
Chapter Fourteen
Faust glanced to the small window with a frown. The Volliare jerked in the high winds and creaked eerily. Rain pounded the airship and the night sky only made the storm seem more ominous. There was no way he was sleeping. He might as well do something useful.
Faust stole one glance at Rene. The historian slept with his back to him on the cot nearby. Warmth still seeped through the wall beside Faust, so that meant Ignas had not moved from his room. He shook his head and concentrated on his fire stone. He took a slow breath. It pulsed, and the candle by his bedside flickered into life.
Faust lay on his stomach and pulled out one of the worn leather journals. He had his chart of ancient letters by him and a fresh journal to transcribe it. He flipped to the first page and stared. The lettering on the first page he’d seen back in Hol had faded into broken lines.
Faust checked the rest of the journal, but the rest of the entries were still there. He flipped back to the first page. Nothing. Faust rubbed his eyes. It was still gone. How strange. He shook his head and lifted his quill to write in the other book.
Wind swayed past him, and the flame blew out.
Faust set the quill down, glancing around. Nothing was open. He lit the candle again and went back to his reading, but the flame sizzled out again.
Faust rested his head on the pillow. He was fated to not read this. The wind didn’t normally do this to him. He lit the flame a third time and inspected the journal. There was ample space for him to translate on the page he supposed. He picked up the quill pen again and wrote the first word. His gaze flickered to the flame. It remained lit. This was the right answer then.
Faust continued, only translating the words. He would read a few entries after he finished. The rain became a soothing background noise the more he scribbled into the journal. He turned another page. This page had room, too, although it was smaller. He would just have to write small.
By the third entry, Faust rubbed at his eyes. It was difficult to do this in such low light. He dried the quill, set it aside, and rolled onto his back. He scanned the first entry.
I came across a beautiful young man bathing in the spring today. He bore a strange mark on his forehead and was unashamed that I gazed upon his naked body. He called himself Linos and strutted toward me, despite his nakedness, and proceeded to circle me with interest. He reached to touch my chest, but I fled. He did not pursue me.