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A jolt of anxiety sends me to the desk. I paw through the drawers one-handed and dig out a piece of parchment, a quill, and a bottle of ink that’s still half full.
I have to pull the stopper out with my teeth while I’m holding the snake’s silk prison, but I manage to wet the quill and scrawl a quick message across the parchment.STAY SILENT.
I’ve just pushed the stopper back into the ink bottle when Benedikt emerges from the wall. “What’s the—”
In an urgent motion, I jerk up the paper with my command. He snaps his mouth shut, his eyebrows arching.
With a shrug, I hope I convey that I realize how ridiculous the situation might seem. Then Alek comes hurtling in through the door from the larger archives, and I whirl toward him with my message raised.
He’s only sucked in a breath when he sees it, his voice catching before he’s released a single word. As he frowns at me in concern, I offer an apologetic smile and swing back around to aim the message at Casimir, who’s come down the hidden staircase a minute behind Benedikt.
It takes another few minutes of awkward quiet before Stavros finally makes his appearance. He glances around at all of us, taking in our expressions and my demand, and folds his arms over his chest with a pointed look.
I set down the paper and motion to my silk bundle. The snake has gone still, so they won’t have any idea what’s going on.
Bracing myself, I feel along the creature’s body through the fabric. It wriggles, but I manage to grasp it between my thumb and forefinger just behind its head.
Keeping the snake secured like that, I loosen the folds of cloth and delve in with my other hand. Gingerly, I ease the green-and-brown-scaled serpent from my trap.
It flings around its tail some more, but it’s short enough that I can easily hold it away from my body. The position of my hand prevents it from taking any bites out of me.
Alek’s eyes widen with a light of understanding. He makes a creeping motion with his hand and mouths, “The rat?”
I nod.
He eases closer, and after a moment, the other men follow suit. It should be obvious to all of them that the animal in my hand is no more clay-like than I am.
Stavros taps the top of its head as if he needs to feel its scales to be sure. Then he draws the sword he always carries on his belt and motions for me to lower the snake to the desk.
I hold it there as still as I can between my hands. The former general braces himself and chops the edge of the blade downward like a chef’s knife, just an inch from my clutching fingers at the creature’s neck.
The snake’s body squirms away from its head—and stiffens. The surface against my fingertips turns harder and rougher.
I lift my hands away from the two clay pieces now lying on the desk.
The unpolished reddish-brown surface has been etched with faint lines to indicate scales and two dots for eyes. It’s not a particularly realistic replica other than in shape.
Alek’s eyes widen. His hand flicks down his chest in a three-fingered tap to the gods.
All sense of the magic in the snake has vanished. I exhale in a rush. “I think we can talk now.”
“You’re just guessing?” Stavros says darkly.
I glower at him, and Alek jumps in with a suitable explanation that doesn’t reveal my magic-detecting ability to Benedikt. “The enchantment on it has obviously been broken. The sorcerers wouldn’t want anyone to be able to test the magic once it’s been discovered.”
Casimir runs his fingers over the clay body. “That’s incredible. It really did look and move exactly like a living animal.”
I wipe my fingers against my skirt, the sensation of writhing scales clinging to them. “None of you have ever encountered or even heard of a gift that could accomplish this?”
Alek shakes his head. “I’d imagine it has to be multiple gifts combined, or some kind of temporary magic gained through sacrifice.”
With that last word, he looks a bit sick.
What kind of sacrifice would it take to bring a lump of clay into something so close to life?
Benedikt leans back against one of the shelving units, tapping his lips. “I’ve kept an eye out for anyone handling clay objects around the campus and the palace. Haven’t noticed anything unusual so far. Pottery isn’t exactly a common conversational topic at the cards table.”
“I couldn’t find any connections between Ster. Torstem and a place where he might be sourcing or working with the clay,” Alek says. “He must be keeping his distance from that part of the conspiracy’s operations. I’ll extend my search and see what else I can find—I’ll make it my main priority.”
