Promise of Blood

They retired to one of the tables with their stacks of books and set to their research. Adamat sat down and flipped open the first book. He frowned. “Uskan?”

“Hmm?” Uskan looked over. He leapt to his feet and rounded the table, moving faster than Adamat had ever seen him. “What is this? Who the pit did this?”

The first several pages of the book had been removed, and dozens after that had whole sections of the text blacked out, as if someone had dipped their finger in ink and smudged it along the page. Uskan mopped at his forehead with a handkerchief and began pacing behind Adamat.

“These books are invaluable,” he said. “Who would do such a thing?”

Adamat leaned forward and squinted at the ripped line of the paper. He judged the book in his hands. It was made with vellum, thicker than today’s paper and four times as tough. The ripped edge was slightly blackened.

“A Privileged,” Adamat said.

“How can you tell?”

Adamat pointed to the ripped edge. “Do you know of anything besides sorcery that could make a burn like that without damaging the rest of the book?”

Uskan resumed pacing. “A Privileged! Kresimir damn them. They should know the value of books!”

“I think they do,” Adamat said. “Else they would have burned the whole thing. Let’s take a look at the rest here.” He reached for the next book, and then the next. Of the eleven they’d removed from the shelf, seven had passages smudged or had pages ripped out. By the time they finished the stack, Uskan was fuming.

“Wait till the vice-chancellor finds out! He’ll head straight down to Skyline and beat those Privileged senseless, he’ll—”

“Tamas has executed the entire cabal.”

Uskan froze. His nostrils flared in and out, his lips bunched in a fierce frown. “I suppose there will be no redress for this, then.”

Adamat shook his head. “Let’s take a look at what we have.”

They spent some time with the books and they found eight different places where smudged writing could have been references to Kresimir’s Promise. Yet the passages were indecipherable.

“That last book,” Adamat said. “The one in the vice-chancellor’s office…?”

“Yes,” Uskan said absently, scratching his head. “ ‘In Service of the King.’ It outlines the duties of the royal cabals in their protection of the kings of the Nine. A very famous work.”

Adamat smoothed the front of his coat. “Let’s see if he left his door unlocked.”

Uskan returned the books and chased Adamat out into the courtyard of the library. “He won’t have left it unlocked,” he said. “Let’s just wait until he gets back. The vice-chancellor is a private sort of man.”

“I’m on an investigation,” Adamat said as he entered the main administration building.

“That doesn’t mean you have the right to look through other people’s studies,” Uskan said. “Besides, the door will be locked.” He smiled triumphantly at Adamat when the doorknob rattled but did not turn in Adamat’s hand.

“No matter,” Adamat said. He crouched down and removed the tiny set of lockpicks he kept in one boot. Uskan’s eyes grew wide.

“What? No, you can’t do that!”

“When did you say the vice-chancellor will be back?”

“Not until late,” Uskan said. “I…” He realized his mistake at once as Adamat began fiddling with the lock. Uskan huffed and slumped against the wall. “I should have told you, ‘Any minute,’” he muttered.

“You’re a terrible liar,” Adamat said.

“Yes, I am. And I won’t be able to lie to the vice-chancellor when he asks if someone’s been in his office.”

“Come, now. He won’t know.”

“Of course he will, how can…”

The lock clicked and Adamat pushed the door open gently. The office inside was more representative of what one might expect from a university type. Books and papers were everywhere. There were plates of half-eaten food on chairs, tables, even the floor. The entire room was walled by bookshelves twice as tall as a man, and those were overflowing, sagging with the weight of too many books stacked haphazardly upon each other.

“Don’t move anything,” Uskan said. “He knows exactly where he left every item. He’ll know if…” Uskan fell silent at a look from Adamat. “Here, let me find the book,” he said sullenly.

Adamat stayed at the edge of the paper-and-ink jungle that was the vice-chancellor’s office while Uskan looked for the missing book with the natural grace of a secretary. Papers were lifted, plates and books shifted, but everything was returned to its exact place.

Adamat stood on his toes and surveyed the room. “Is this it?” Adamat asked, pointing to the center of the vice-chancellor’s desk.

Uskan pulled his head out from beneath the vice-chancellor’s chair. “Oh. Yes.”

Adamat stepped gingerly through the room. He lifted the book carefully and began to leaf through it. Uskan came up beside him.

“No damaged pages,” Adamat reported. He scanned the pages, flipping through, looking for just two words to stand out. He found his prize in the book’s afterword, on the last page.