Skate was still very curious about the specifics of his crime (Whom had he killed? And why, besides “selfishness,” whatever that meant? And why come to Belamy for judgment?), but he had offered no more information, so she had not pried. Leave the man in a glass ball whatever privacy he still wants, she’d told herself. It’s not like it matters for your job, anyway. Even though he was less than forthcoming about the old man and his secrets, he still made a fine conversation partner.
On the fifth morning, as Skate ate her scrambled eggs and a seared slice of a sugary meat (ham, she guessed), Belamy came downstairs carrying a burlap sack wrapped around something heavy-looking and squarish. He plopped the sack down next to her with a thud.
“Wassat?” she managed to get out around the large bite she’d just taken.
“Laribel’s book. The Chronicles. It was most informative, and a riveting read, but it’s time for it to go back to its owner. And of course, you’ll get another week of food and lodging, as promised. Or lessons, as you prefer.”
Skate swallowed and smacked her lips. “Sounds good, then. When do you want it given back to her?”
“With all speed. Tonight, if you can.”
She thought about it. The streets were more slush than snow, now. The sun had been out and shining, bringing with it a warmer wind that helped to dissipate the collected piles of white nuisance.
“Not a problem.” She scooped up her empty plate and took it to the kitchen. “How do you want it given back to her?” she said over her shoulder.
“It doesn’t matter to me, so long as she gets it undamaged and anonymously.” He came to the doorway to speak to her, keeping an eye on Rattle as it floated about doing the work of cleaning up. It deftly snatched Skate’s plate from her hands as it passed, causing her to jump a bit and laugh. “I mean it, young lady,” Belamy said, mistaking her light mood as unconcern. “She’s seen you and knows you’ve been here with me. The last thing I need is Laribel knowing I borrowed one of her books without permission.”
“I get it; it’ll be fine.” Skate laughed again as Rattle went through a small juggling act with the plates before dropping them in the water in the basin. She slid past Belamy into the main room and sat down by the fire, which she changed to a blue color with the Dwarvish words.
“Good, then. Be sure to do so. And make sure my door is shut when you leave. Rattle will let you in.” Belamy moved toward the front door. “Rattle will oversee your lesson for the day, as well. Just practice the sounds you’ve learned so far. Eventually, it will become a matter of automation for you. But you’ve got to practice to get there.”
“Wait, you’re leaving?”
“Yes,” he said, stopping with his hand on the handle of the heavy door. “Is there a reason I should not?”
At a bit of a loss, she said, “Well, no, I guess not. It’s your house, ain’t it? You just never leave, is all.”
“True. I rarely have a need. But today, I’m off to meet with people who might help me track down the unpleasant trio bent on extorting money from Jack. I should be back before evening comes, but I can’t say for sure.”
“Who you gonna talk to for help with that?” It was unlikely he’d have any contacts with the criminal underworld if he didn’t know the name “Hajime,” but it was possible that he might be able to find something out about the Ink if he looked hard enough.
“Various hedge wizards who may have supplied them with the spells or trinkets. I’m also going to pay Lady Flandel a visit, since she apparently felt comfortable enough inviting them to her soirée. Wish me luck.” Without waiting for the wish, he swung out the door and swept into the cool morning. The door shut behind him.
“Good luck!” she called out. “You’re gonna need it,” she muttered, turning back to the kitchen. “Rattle!”
The eyeball turned toward her at the call, somehow hearing over the din of the dishes it was cleaning in the basin. It didn’t stop cleaning as it turned, and the effect was disconcerting. Its legs continued to shift the dishes around and clean them even though it was not focused on the work.
Skate shook her head and forced herself to remember what she’d come in here for. “Did Mr. Belamy tell you what the plan is for the day?”
It extracted two of its legs from the chaos long enough to click them together before shoving them right back into the wash without missing a beat.
“Well, I’m going to be in the library until you’re ready, all right?” Another quick shuffle and click. Skate nodded and left it to its work, and she saw the eye swinging back to the washing as the door came shut.
She went up the stairs and found the library as it had always been. Normally, she only came in here to talk to Petre, but this morning she thought to try her hand at a challenge. She scanned the rows of books until she found a spine with a title she could make sense of.
“Th…e L…a…ast Dra…g…on…” she sounded out aloud. It was not the entire title, but it was enough to get her to gingerly take the book off the shelf and place it on the nearby empty desk. She opened it up and took in the first page. “The Last Dragon,” she said again, smiling because she knew she’d gotten it right; at the bottom of the very first page was a detailed illustration of a dragon reared up on its powerful hind legs, breathing fire and snarling. Underneath the words she had read were five more. “…O…f…th…e L…o…st Br…ink…‘is lands’? What’s ‘is lands’?” Not having an answer, she read the words over and over again to herself. “The Last Dragon of the Lost Brink Is-lands.” Rattle’s clicking told her it was coming up the stairs, so she read the words one last time before closing the book gently and putting it back in place on the shelf. She met Rattle in the hallway, and they both went to her room to continue her lessons.
It was early afternoon when Skate needed a break. Her eyes were tired, and the chalk Rattle was using to mark the board was worn down to a near-useless nub. Rattle moved to the kitchen to prepare lunch while Skate rubbed her face in front of the blue flame in the main room. The past few hours had consisted of an interminable series of letters together on the board, with Skate sounding out the noise they made together. After the second hour, she found herself not needing to think about the letters individually anymore; this must have been part of what Belamy had meant when he talked about it being a matter of “automation.” By the third hour, she hated everything and wanted to be doing anything else. She thought they must have been in there for at least five hours but wasn’t sure.
Rattle brought out a plate of cheese and fruit. She took it and set it down. “Thanks,” she said, taking her hands from her face. “That’s probably enough for the day, you think?”
It did its imitation of a shrug.
“I think it’s enough for me. I’m gonna go lie down after I eat this. You go read or something,” she said, taking a bite out of the hunk of cheese.
Rattle clicked once and floated up the stairs. Skate took a few more nibbles of the cheese before moving to the little purple fruits. She didn’t get to eat fruit much, and she supposed very few got to eat fruits at all this time of year. Belamy’s cabinets were a marvel. “Work of genius,” she muttered to herself, savoring the sweet juice in each berry. They complemented the cheese flavor nicely. She set her plate down and realized with some surprise that she was alone. With Belamy out of the house, this might be her best chance to explore that “storage closet” in the basement.