Page 74

“Yes, but did you tell her why you wanted her to stay?” Math’s words were little more than whispers probing his wounded pride.

“I don’t know what you’re getting at.”

But he did know. Rock and bone, did he know.

Math threw up his hands in exasperation. “You are the most aggravating soul in the world.”

“No, that right lies with Kora.”

“Granted. The second most aggravating person, then. You need to tell her how you feel about her.”

“I feel irritated about her. Intensely irritated.”

“Stones help me!” Math jabbed him hard in the ribs, his mouth pulled down in frustration. “You need to tell her that you love her, you obtuse fool. No woman in her right mind would give up her life to stay under any other circumstances. You can’t guilt her into this. You need to give her a reason to stay.”

“Hear, hear!” Trap called from across the kitchen where she blatantly eavesdropped.

Several of the children giggled as Jael fired a “Mind your own business!” back at the housekeeper. This only elicited more giggles from the table. Someone honked into their tissue, and the giggles transformed to hoots of laughter. Even Jael cracked a smile, but it probably appeared more like a grimace.

“If you’re going to do this, you need to have a plan,” Math continued, as if the matter had been settled. “I hear humans like flowery proposals of marriage—speeches from the prospective suitor expounding on why their union would be a successful endeavor.”

“Proposals of—are you insane? If I’m going to do anything, I’m going to do it properly and give her the traditional binding stone—”

“Are you crazy? You give that girl a rock and she’ll bean you on the head with it!” Math had worked himself into quite the righteous fervor. Jael wasn’t sure he’d ever seen his apprentice with such fire in his cheeks other than when he had a fever of epic proportions.

He scrambled for another argument that might clear him of any embarrassing speeches. “I don’t know anything about human marital customs—”

Math groaned and lifted his face to the ceiling. “Wretched business,” he muttered, repeating his earlier words. “Look, I don’t really feel comfortable meddling in matters of the heart. We have bigger problems to discuss.”

“Bigger problems. Of course.”

“I don’t like this,” Math went on, a furrow between his eyes. “Any of it. I don’t think the elves are telling us everything. They know, Jael. About the soul-binding. And the book.”

“Wait. What?” Jael’s heart sputtered and skipped a beat. “I told you not to tell them about that!”

“I didn’t!” Math’s eyes flashed with an uncommon show of temper. “I didn’t say a word. It was Kora.”

Jael curled one hand around the rim of the stone table and squeezed as if he might try to crush the stone in his grip. “How did he find out? You didn’t tell him—”

“Of course, I didn’t. But he knew. Somehow, he found out, and he told the elves. They were reluctant to lift a finger to help us until he told them about the book and the binding. Then they were really chummy on our way back to Imenborg. The elves wanted to know all about that book, Jael. They’re extremely keen.”

At this, Rig lifted his head and stared across the table.

“If they were that keen,” Jael muttered, “they wouldn’t have tromped off so soon with our nanny in tow.”

Math leveled him with a less than pleased look. “Really? That’s what you’re hung up on? What about the book—”

“It’s missing.” Jael blurted the words.

The other goblin’s mouth hung open, his thoughts derailed.

“Someone broke into my room and stole it from my robes. I’ve been looking. I had thought perhaps you took it for study, but...”

Math shook his head, shifting his hold on the children crowded against him. “I didn’t touch it, I swear.”

Neither of them spoke again for an uncomfortable pause. For his part, Jael didn’t want to voice his concerns about the implications of the missing book. He couldn’t very well blame the elves when the book had vanished before they’d even arrived.

“We need to find it,” Math said with a tired sigh. “A nameless book in the wrong hands—”