didn’t mind a handsome man wrapping her in his arms, but couldn’t bring herself to flirt so brazenly with him. She had a feeling he would give her a shocked look if she tried. Besides, they had more important matters to deal with.
“Perfectly fine,” she said. “I thought it looked ominous, too, but I had to see what happened. Scientific curiosity, you understand.”
“Hm, do your people have any phrases about curiosity and cats?”
Your people? She almost told him that she was half Turgonian, but supposed she couldn’t lay much claim to the nationality when she’d never set foot on the continent until this past winter. “Yes, but it’s about monkeys and shiny objects in logs. We... uh. What is happening to that wood?”
Before their eyes, the dock faded, cracked, and splintered. The boards sagged and warped.
“I don’t know,” Sespian said, “but it’s only happening to the five feet around that bud.”
“Where the spores landed,” Mahliki agreed. “Or whatever they were.”
One of the boards snapped in half and fell through to the water below. Others grew thinner and frailer, as if they were aging a hundred years in a matter of seconds.
Mahliki wriggled free from Sespian’s grip and darted back to the bud.
“What are you doing?” he blurted.
She stabbed her specimen with her dagger and turned, intending to sprint back before the weakened boards gave way. One collapsed beneath her heel, and her foot plunged through. She yanked it free, but another one groaned beneath her other leg. She flung herself to the dock to spread out her weight and crawled back to Sespian. He had dropped his sketchpad and had been about to lunge out after her. She was glad he hadn’t; their combined weight would have sent them both plunging into the icy water.
“Getting my specimen,” Mahliki answered his question. She opened her jacket to peek at the vials, bottles, and fine tools she kept strapped to the lining, but none of the collection cases was big enough. She dug into her satchel and pulled out a glass box. She stuffed her half dissected bud into it, grabbed a sturdy lid, and fastened it as if speed counted for everything. Maybe it did. “You don’t mind drawing it through the glass, do you?”
“No,” Sespian said. “Not at all.”
In the handful of seconds since she had been back with him, the dock had continued to deteriorate. Disintegrate, almost. By the time it finally collapsed, only splinters remained to float on the water below. Mahliki shuddered, thinking about what might have happened to her if she had been caught by those spores.
“I think this may be important enough to warrant a favor from Father after all,” she said lightly, though she would have preferred to stand in Sespian’s arms again. She would have to find a way to thank him for using his quick reflexes to pull her to safety.
“I’d say so. We’d better warn the enforcers and the fire brigade too. If they blasted one of those buds with a gout of flame...”
“It could be ugly, yes.” Mahliki peered down at her specimen. The tonsil had stopped pulsing, but it was still the strangest thing she had seen in her years studying biology. “What are you?” she whispered to it.
She didn’t receive a response.
• • • • •
After checking the office, the library, the conference room, and all the other places people liked to waylay Rias, Tikaya headed to the basement of the old hotel. The four-story, three-hundred-year-old Emperor’s Bulwark had been converted to presidential use in the aftermath of the election, the mostly destroyed Imperial Barracks being deemed inappropriate housing for a nation’s new leader. Considering all the tents, huts, branches, and bare ground Rias had slept in and on during his life, he probably wouldn’t have been bothered by living in a room with one wall missing and shrapnel and soot adorning the rest. Tikaya appreciated the comforts of the hotel, even if it had been donated by one
“Perfectly fine,” she said. “I thought it looked ominous, too, but I had to see what happened. Scientific curiosity, you understand.”
“Hm, do your people have any phrases about curiosity and cats?”
Your people? She almost told him that she was half Turgonian, but supposed she couldn’t lay much claim to the nationality when she’d never set foot on the continent until this past winter. “Yes, but it’s about monkeys and shiny objects in logs. We... uh. What is happening to that wood?”
Before their eyes, the dock faded, cracked, and splintered. The boards sagged and warped.
“I don’t know,” Sespian said, “but it’s only happening to the five feet around that bud.”
“Where the spores landed,” Mahliki agreed. “Or whatever they were.”
One of the boards snapped in half and fell through to the water below. Others grew thinner and frailer, as if they were aging a hundred years in a matter of seconds.
Mahliki wriggled free from Sespian’s grip and darted back to the bud.
“What are you doing?” he blurted.
She stabbed her specimen with her dagger and turned, intending to sprint back before the weakened boards gave way. One collapsed beneath her heel, and her foot plunged through. She yanked it free, but another one groaned beneath her other leg. She flung herself to the dock to spread out her weight and crawled back to Sespian. He had dropped his sketchpad and had been about to lunge out after her. She was glad he hadn’t; their combined weight would have sent them both plunging into the icy water.
“Getting my specimen,” Mahliki answered his question. She opened her jacket to peek at the vials, bottles, and fine tools she kept strapped to the lining, but none of the collection cases was big enough. She dug into her satchel and pulled out a glass box. She stuffed her half dissected bud into it, grabbed a sturdy lid, and fastened it as if speed counted for everything. Maybe it did. “You don’t mind drawing it through the glass, do you?”
“No,” Sespian said. “Not at all.”
In the handful of seconds since she had been back with him, the dock had continued to deteriorate. Disintegrate, almost. By the time it finally collapsed, only splinters remained to float on the water below. Mahliki shuddered, thinking about what might have happened to her if she had been caught by those spores.
“I think this may be important enough to warrant a favor from Father after all,” she said lightly, though she would have preferred to stand in Sespian’s arms again. She would have to find a way to thank him for using his quick reflexes to pull her to safety.
“I’d say so. We’d better warn the enforcers and the fire brigade too. If they blasted one of those buds with a gout of flame...”
“It could be ugly, yes.” Mahliki peered down at her specimen. The tonsil had stopped pulsing, but it was still the strangest thing she had seen in her years studying biology. “What are you?” she whispered to it.
She didn’t receive a response.
• • • • •
After checking the office, the library, the conference room, and all the other places people liked to waylay Rias, Tikaya headed to the basement of the old hotel. The four-story, three-hundred-year-old Emperor’s Bulwark had been converted to presidential use in the aftermath of the election, the mostly destroyed Imperial Barracks being deemed inappropriate housing for a nation’s new leader. Considering all the tents, huts, branches, and bare ground Rias had slept in and on during his life, he probably wouldn’t have been bothered by living in a room with one wall missing and shrapnel and soot adorning the rest. Tikaya appreciated the comforts of the hotel, even if it had been donated by one
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