Chapter Twenty-Two: A Desperate Plea | Part 6
Thirtyx tried to read again, to no avail. He was sure that letting his guard down would curse him, inviting every faculty member in the building to come check on his roommate. So he stared at the ceiling in a sort of stupor. He funneled all his willpower into a persistent entreaty to the Twins to have everyone leave him alone, just for today.
It worked.
Dusk had fallen by the time a cloud of golden sparks materialized in the room. Thirtyx startled, but as the adrenaline and the mist subsided, he breathed a sigh of relief. They both made it back unscathed.
A satisfaction that had nothing to do with their safety washed over his stomach. He’d grown quite hungry over the past several bars. But information this tasty didn’t necessarily bode well. His concern warred with his savoring of the delicious unsaid.
Rhea shoved Thirtyx’s legs out of the way and flopped across the foot of his bed. Benn sat on his own bed with a sigh.
Thirtyx ventured forth with a conservative, “That bad, huh?”
The twins looked at each other as if begging the other to explain.
“If you guys aren’t ready to talk about it, that’s fine. I’ll be here for you when you are.” He omitted the part about how they’d need to snap him out of a feeding torpor if they stayed silent much longer.
Benn and Rhea exchanged another poignant look. “I think we’re still processing a lot of it,” Rhea muttered. “I’m not sure where to start.”
Regrettably, Thirtyx knew talking it through would help with their processing. He relished the last taste of secrecy before he began untying the knot. “How about the bottom line? Are they going to help?”
“It’s complicated, but not really, no.” Benn raked a hand through his hair. “They were about as prickly as we’d feared—said our throne was none of their concern. Grimm, however, remains a citizen of Iwabo Pfah. So per the letter of their law, they’re committed to prosecuting his murderer should he be, y’know, murdered.” Benn seemed to shrink into himself as his shoulders slumped forward. “Until then, we’re on our own.”
While Thirtyx hadn’t entirely supported their request for Iwabo Pfah’s help, the dismissiveness made him grit his teeth. “They said this in front of Grimmary? And, what—is attempted murder not a crime on their perfect little planet?”
“Oh, I’m sure they’d prosecute a suspect if we had one in custody,” Rhea said brightly. “Ask me how long they berated us for not having any leads stronger than a dead Verith. You know what, don’t, because I might punch—”
“Dead?”
Rhea fell silent. She turned her eyes to Thirtyx’s blanket and seemed to be composing a diplomatic answer, but Benn found his voice first.
“The palace infantry, uh… they found Varmarin this afternoon. A hundred paces from the Corcoroll-Everis border. Stabbed clean through with a sword. Grimm heard right before we left for the meeting.”
Thirtyx’s eyebrows drew together. A dead assassin should be good news, but it didn’t feel like a victory, and the twins weren’t celebrating either. The manner of his death certainly raised more questions than it answered. “But this… isn’t over, right?”
“Far from it.” Rhea rolled into a sitting position and tugged at the clasp of her cloak. “We never believed Varmarin was acting alone. We’re not sure any single person could have done all this. And now the lackey is dead, but we’re no closer to figuring out where he was getting his orders.”
“Or maybe we are,” Benn said, his voice muffled by his hands rubbing his face. “We wouldn’t know anymore. Effective the frac we set foot back on Lamiakk, Grimm has pulled us off all our active projects and revoked our information clearance.”
