A bookshelf.
Ronan sends a light down there, checking it out over my shoulder. “I’ll go first,” he says, but Taran grabs him by the arm and stops him.
“The air could be bad down there. We need a wind-born.”
Damn, we shouldn’t have let Typhon go. “I don’t know if we can trust anyone here to do it.” If they see something of value in there, they’ll likely take it.
“I can get some fresh air in there pretty quickly,” says Seth, igniting a flame on his fingertips.
Taran extinguishes it with a water-filled palm. “Put that out, you lunatic. You could blow the entire place up.”
Seth’s breath hitches audibly as Taran keeps hold of his hand a moment too long.
I look away, trying not to gag.
“Look for bellows,” says Taran. “The kind used to stoke a fire.”
It doesn’t take long to find one, although it takes a bit longer to find one that doesn’t have holes in it. Taran directs it through the opening, blowing fresh air into the confined space until he’s reasonably convinced it’s safe.
“I’ll go first,” he says once he’s finished.
“I’ve got you,” I say, wrapping a tendril of shadow around his waist.
“Thanks, but if I collapse in there, I’m already dead. Whatever you do, donotcome after me.”
“That’s very heroic and all, but don’t you think we ought to get a wind-born?” says Seth, his voice rising in concern as Taran climbs down the ladder. “Taran?”
Taran walks around the small room, holding his breath and directing the bellows to the floor. After several tense moments, he finally relaxes. “It’s safe.”
Ronan goes down the ladder next, followed by Seth, and then finally me.
By the time I reach the bottom, Seth already has the first chest open. “Oh,thisis where Father kept the good stuff.” He laughs as he pulls out several very beautiful weapons: a rapierwith a delicately filigreed guard, a longsword with a jeweled pommel. A saber with a curved blade perfect for cavalry.
Ronan and Taran check the desk and bookshelves, finding a number of papers there regarding the war. Plans and missives, maps of Selara and known weak points. They’re dated, but we take them anyway in case they could reveal something about how to retake Faros.
I turn my attention to the other chest. It’s nothing special, just standard wood with iron hinges, except for its lock. I try picking it, but the pins won’t set.
If only we could have kept Larus with us to break it. I wonder if he even knew this was down here. I’m betting my parents kept this from him if he didn’t know to bring this stuff to Kalla when we moved.
“Try your shadows,” suggests Ronan when he sees me struggling.
I wedge a tendril of shadow into the lock, but the pins are busted beyond repair.
“Stand back,” says Seth.
I look up to see him wielding a huge axe over his head like a madman.
“What the fuck!” I shout as I jump back.
Seth swings the axe into the lock, splintering the wood open and breaking the entire latch.
“I said, ‘Stand back.’”
Ronan puts his arm around me possessively, making sure I’m uninjured. “You’re an idiot.”
“Gods, you’re all so unappreciative. It’s open, isn’t it? Let’s see what else Father left for us…”
Seth pulls open the chest, but there aren’t any weapons inside.
