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Math’s expression bordered on reproachful. But he said nothing as he handed Jael the vile book. The weight of it in his hands made him tired, so very tired. He slipped the book into his pocket and heaved to his feet.
“Bring the report from the lads when they get back. I’d like to know if there has been any change with the Bifrost. I’m going to get some rest.”
Math nodded without speaking.
It seemed like a lie, claiming he wanted a report on the Bifrost. What he wanted to know was if his sacrifice—and Anrid’s—would make any difference at all, or if they’d doomed themselves to a lost cause.
When had he become such a pessimist?
Chapter 21
When Anrid returned to her room, she found Rig sitting on the floor outside the door. Giggling emanated from inside, where his partners in crime were getting up to more mischief. But, for his part, Rig made a pathetic figure, with his knobby knees drawn to his chest and arms clutched around them.
He watched her approach with large, soulful eyes.
Anrid sank down beside him and leaned her head back against the stone wall. Shades, she didn’t want to scold him.
“I’m sorry about the books!” he burst out. “Please, don’t be mad.” He succumbed to tears and pressed his face against the top of his knees.
“Oh, Rig,” she murmured as she wrapped an arm around his shoulders. He leaned into her side, sobbing all the harder. Had she been too harsh earlier in the library? She scolded the children often, and he’d never taken it to heart like this before. She stroked his back, leaning over to press a kiss against the top of his frowsy locks. “Whatever possessed you to damage all those books in the first place?”
His body shook with sobs. “I don’t know.”
“You must have been thinking something, pet. Why would you want to throw the books on the floor and make a mess out of the library when everyone here has been so good to care for us?”
He snuffled and eased back to wipe his nose on his sleeve. “Because—because they want to send you away.” His lower lip trembled, and then he burst into a fresh round of wails.
“Oh, Rig.” She tugged him closer again, her heart twisting as she rubbed his arm with gentle strokes. “Rig, you need to understand that I don’t belong here. I belong with my people, up above. And you and the children don’t belong here either. This isn’t a place for us, for you or for me.”
“But where will we go? Who will take care of us if you go away? Don’t you like us, Uh-NEE? Don’t you want to stay with us?”
She tightened her arms around him. “Of course I do, pet. But it isn’t that simple. Sometimes we don’t get to decide what we want to do.” Her voice grew softer yet. “Sometimes it is decided for us.”
“If they send you away,” he mumbled against the front of her apron, his thin arms tightening as he clung to her tighter, “I’ll hate them forever.”
She gasped. “Rig, don’t say such things. Of course, you won’t hate them. Hate is a powerful word, a bad word. It’s a big emotion and not one we should ever allow to take root in our hearts. It can grow into something bad and scary if you let it.”
“I don’t care,” he muttered.
She pursed her lips and stroked his hair. “Well, I do care. I care too much to let you say such things. Whatever happens, it isn’t anyone’s fault. Sometimes things just have to happen, and there is no use trying to throw blame at people. Or using bad words like hate.”
He pulled back and frowned at her in a fierce and dangerous way. “That isn’t fair. If bad things can happen, then I should get to be bad too. Bad things always happen, and they tell me, ‘don’t feel bad,’ but I do feel bad. I feel really bad.”
She hesitated, wondering what hidden pain was causing the root of his anger. He hadn’t known her long enough to be so attached to her. He might think he was, but there was something else going on.
A part of her wanted to press him for answers, to peel back the layers of his troubled life and make sense of the broken pieces. But another part of her feared what she might find. She chose her next words with exquisite care, but before she could speak, footsteps echoed up the stairs. Kora appeared at the end of the corridor.
“What are you two up to?” he asked as he approached, hands tucked lazily into his pockets. He took in the situation with a quick flick of his eyes, his expression hawk-like and speculative. “Feeling a little blue, are we, chap?”
Rig shot him a less than pleasant look and wiped his nose on his sleeve again. “What do you know about it?” he snapped.
Kora pursed his lips and shrugged. “I don’t know anything about why you feel blue. Other than I saw your handiwork in the library. That was bad form, even by my standards. But I do know what I do when I feel down in the mouth.”
For the first time, Rig showed a glimmer of curiosity. “Yeah?”
Kora winked at him and rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. “Yes,” he said in a conspiratorial whisper. “I go to the kitchen and ask Cook to feed me dessert.”
“And he gives it to you?” Rig asked, as if shocked.
