Page 113 of The Sun He Buried

I open the ledger.

The eight bars are still missing.

“Was there anything else?”

Ketill rests one hand on the book, covering the figures.

“You can’t make Solveih hate you by punishing everyone who gets near the problem.”

My fingers stop against the page.

Too close.

He has no idea how close.

“Remove your hand.”

He does.

Not from fear. Ketill has never had enough of that.

He reaches the door and looks back. “The reserve crews need another day.”

“They have it.”

“Baldr won’t enjoy that.”

“Baldr has survived disappointment.”

“Solveih will still be here.”

“So will the eight missing bars.”

Ketill opens the door. “Those may be easier to find.”

He leaves before I choose which answer would make him regret that.

The study goes quiet.

Not quiet enough.

Chapter Twelve

The woman from Eirik’s study runs past our door right as I’ve finished crying.

I hear her first. Quick steps on the west stairs, one caught breath, then a shoe scraping outside the guest wing.

Asta sets down the cold cup she has been trying to make me drink from. “Stay here.”

This is an excellent instruction. I stand with her anyway.

She opens the door.

The woman stops paces away.

Same grey eyes. Same dark dress, fastened properly now. Her braid has come loose along one side, and tears shine across both cheeks. One hand covers her mouth.

She looks at me.