Page 39 of By the Horns (Royal Artifactual Guild #2)

Twenty-Eight

Gwenna

Dere Ma,

Sorry it’s been a few days. I don’t have coin to send home this time, but I think of you constently.

I miss you. Classes have been taking up all my spayre time.

Master Jay is very different than Master Hawk.

He likes to talk a lot and he is a big beleever in something he calls repetetif lerning.

He makes us do the same drills over and over again so they feel like second nature.

He’s fair tho and hasn’t treeted me any different than the men. He is a great teechur and I’m not saying that just because the guild reads our letters. We are doing well in our lessons. The Taurian—his name is Raptor—is extremely skilled and is helping me practiss so I can keep up with the others.

I hope you’re taking care of yourself. Don’t let Cook bully you into making all the bread. She just doesn’t want to get up early because she’s fooling around with the stable boys at all hours. You can tell her I said that!

Sending love, Gwenna

All is quiet for several days. An intense storm has hit Vastwarren, turning the streets into rivers and the cobblestones into slippery dangers.

Master Jay decides that we’re going to learn best indoors, and so we take to the guild library with the other fledgling teams. Every master has the same idea, and the library is overcrowded with people.

It’s a struggle to find a table, so we have to show up early to claim seats.

The air is humid and unpleasant due to the rain and the crush of bodies in the library, and I’m covered in a fine sheen of sweat all week and miserable.

I’m not the only one who’s suffering. Arrod groans like a petulant toddler every time a book is put in front of him, as if we’re torturing him instead of asking him to learn some Prellian glyph basics.

Raptor’s in a cranky mood, too. I don’t know if it’s the humidity in the library or the proximity of so many people, but his mood becomes increasingly irritable as the days go on.

He’s snappish to all of us, scowls at Master Jay constantly, and isn’t fun to be around in the slightest.

It doesn’t make me want to flirt with him, either. He’s never quite unpleasant to me, but there are times that I want to snarl at him for being a prick.

On Fifthday morning, the three humans and Taurian in our group head over to the library to meet Kipp, shaking out wet cloaks and hanging them on hooks near the doors.

Despite the early hour, the library is full of fledglings, and I can hear Master Tiercel droning on about Prellian architecture.

A librarian rushes past with a cart full of books and what looks like a crystal globe set atop the cart.

The crystal globe flashes and the librarian parks the cart and begins to shelve books in their places.

“I wish someone wanted to get wet,” I comment as we swipe our muddy boots on the rug at the front of the library.

Raptor jerks, startled. He shoots me a dirty look.

“What? If they wanted to get wet, they wouldn’t be in here, hogging all the tables.”

With a scowl on his face, he plants his big hands on his hips and scans the room. “I don’t see Kipp.”

“He said he was going to wait at the table,” I say as both Hemmen and Arrod look to the Taurian. “Why else do you think he came ahead, Cranky?”

Raptor mutters something under his breath that sounds a bit like “least he’s coming,” but I don’t know what he’s referring to.

I shoot him an irked glance and then make my way across the crowded library, dodging pushed-out chairs and carts full of books waiting to be reshelved.

There are no candles in the library to brighten it.

The large windows are full of gray skies, but someone has pulled out a series of small globes that are full of a greenish magic illumination.

The fist-sized lamps are lifted onto the wall sconces by hooks, and the room fills with a murky, sickly shade of light.

One of the men pushes his chair back just as I walk past, shoving it into me.

I ignore him. Just like I ignore the one who slaps my arse as I move past.

Raptor doesn’t, though. He’s two paces behind me, and the moment after my arse is squeezed, he lets out a roar.

I turn just in time to see the student lifted bodily out of his seat, hanging by his collar.

He hauls the terrified fledgling into the air.

“Slap my ass,” he snarls, the broad blaze down his muzzle pressed to the tinier human nose. “Go on, I mucking dare you.”

Should I tell him to stop? I don’t want to, because I love that he’s standing up for me.

I love that he’s doing something about the harassment I’ve dealt with every day since arriving in Vastwarren City.

Perhaps I shouldn’t be so gleeful about it, but it’s nice to see someone realize that their thoughtless actions have consequences.

“S-sorry,” the student mumbles, utterly pale.

Raptor shakes him again. “Are you apologizing to me ?”

The fledging turns wide, frantic eyes toward me. “Sorry! Sorry!”

“Just don’t let it happen again,” I say magnanimously. I move to Raptor’s side, and when he gives the man another shake, I tap his arm. “You can set him down now.”

He looks over at me, and I could swear there’s a tinge of red in Raptor’s gaze. He looks…unhinged. All this because some fool spanked me? Or is there something else going on?

I move away from the table full of fledglings and their scowling master (who did not step in, I cannot help but notice).

Arrod and Hemmen go ahead, but I turn and wait for Raptor.

After a moment, he drops the quivering fledgling back into his seat and stalks away, moving to my side.

Once he gets to me, he reaches out. For a moment, it seems as if he’s going to put an arm around my shoulders, but he changes his mind and brushes a piece of lint off my fledgling sash instead. “You all right?”

“Are you?” I ask. “It’s not like you to lose control like that.”

His eyes narrow, and he scowls at me as if I’ve personally offended him. “It’s fine. I’m just tired.”

“I don’t know if I believe that. You seem cranky lately.”

“I said it’s fine .”

I blink. “Did you just snap at me? Because you can fuck right off with that.”

He scrubs a hand down his face. “No, I—I didn’t mean to be short. I’m not mad at you. I’m just…not myself lately.”

“Are you all right?”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle.” He sounds tired.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

He stares at me long and hard. For some reason, this makes me blush, as if his mind is going to filthy places. That must be my imagination.

“I’m going to take that as a no,” I say brightly. “Come on, then. Let’s join the others.”

We cross the packed library, heading to the same table that we’ve occupied for the last two days.

Kipp has his shell on the table surface and sits atop it.

Arrod and Hemmen are pulling out chairs next to him, and Master Jay is already there, waiting on us.

I hurry over to take my seat next to Kipp, smiling at my small friend.

Raptor takes the seat at the other end of the table, scowling at all of us as if he doesn’t like his chair. I don’t understand his mood.

The moment we’re seated, Kipp gets up. He heads to the stack of books and hands out learning volumes created by the archivists to help fledglings master the basics of the intricate Old Prellian glyph language.

I should be happy to be inside and warm, but truthfully, I’d rather be on the obstacle course.

I can’t read worth a lick, and even the simplest of sentences takes me far too long.

It’s embarrassing, and I stay quiet so the others don’t discover just how poor at reading and writing I truly am.

“Turn to page thirty-seven,” Master Jay says, circling the table. “We’ll start with where we were yesterday and see how many of the eight hundred and twenty-two common symbols of Old Prellian you’ve retained.”

I flip my book open, trying to find the right page…

and then stop. A bright splash of red lettering on a previous page catches my attention and I turn back to it.

Jagged lettering in vivid scarlet has been scrawled across the artifact-printed book on page twenty.

It takes me a moment to realize what it says.

GWENNA IS A THIEF.

I slam the book shut, panicking.

“Is there a problem, fledgling?” Master Jay asks.

I panic again, because if I tell him what it says, he’ll wonder what’s going on.

Do I hide it? Is mine the only book with this message, or has it been written across every student text in the library?

“Sorry, thought I saw a bug.” I force myself to open the book again, my expression neutral, and turn farther ahead in the book, deliberately avoiding horrible page twenty.

“Good.” Master Jay hooks his thumbs in the pockets of his jacket. “Now, let’s review what we learned yesterday. The Prellian language is considered a feminine language. That means that all non-sentient objects will have female pronouns attached….”

I’m itching to turn back to page twenty, but I don’t dare.

The writing on the page was so bright, so lurid, that it’s sure to grab Master Jay’s attention…

or anyone else’s. I peek over my book at Raptor.

He’s watching me, his gaze intense. I don’t know if that means that his book has been vandalized or if mine is the only one.

I turn to Hemmen, but he’s reading his book intently.

When I turn to look at Arrod, however, he’s staring at me, his eyes wide.

Shit.

I stare down at my pages again, the words and symbols blurring before my eyes. I can’t concentrate. I’m scared of being kicked out, but more than that…I’m starting to get angry. Why the fuck am I being targeted? Is it all because I’m a woman?

If so, that’s an absolutely shitty thing to do, framing me as a thief just because they don’t like my gender. I haven’t even been in a mucking tunnel yet. Well, in any sort of official capacity. I haven’t tried anything . They just don’t like that I’m here learning.

They want me back in the kitchens. Because that’s the only place good enough for a woman.

The more I think about it, the more I fume.

I grit my teeth, but that page in the book is taunting me.

I can’t take it any longer. While Master Jay is talking about how to recognize an ottin sun glyph from an ehld circle, I turn back to page twenty and rip the damned thing out of the book.

I wad it into a ball, and immediately Kipp snatches the ball from my hand and shoves it deep into his shell.

I’m both grateful that he’s assisting me and horrified that he knows just what I’m doing. It’s clearly in his book, too.

Master Jay stares at me, open-mouthed. “That book is intended for all students, not just your use, fledgling!”

“I’m sorry. There was another nasty bug on the paper. Big one. I panicked.” I flutter my lashes at him and give the teacher my most “helpless female” expression. “We weren’t on that page, were we?”

“There are a lot of bugs in the library,” Raptor drawls. He leans back, eyeing Master Jay. “Should something be done about that?”

The teacher frowns. “An infestation can be a problem. Let me speak with the archivist working today.”

He walks away, steps crisp, and the moment he’s gone, Raptor snatches Hemmen’s book from him.

“Hey,” Hemmen protests. “I was reading that.”

“You can have it back,” Raptor replies. He flicks through the book and a flash of lurid red catches my eye. The Taurian rips out the offending page and then hands the book back to Hemmen. Kipp snatches the page from Raptor.

We all turn to Arrod.

“I didn’t see anything,” Arrod says, sliding his book down to Raptor. “Nothing at all. Is it true, though?”

I say nothing. I am a thief, aren’t I? I stole a ring for Aspeth last year. Our Five got demoted to repeaters for breaking into the caverns. I can’t even protest the statement.

Raptor just opens the book, rips out the graffiti, and then holds it out to Kipp to take. “Do you think it’s true?”

Arrod studies my face. Then he shakes his head. “No. She’s the one always nagging us about the rules. Wouldn’t make sense for her to steal.”

I want to kiss him in that moment. “Thank you,” I say softly. “For believing in me.”

“I believe in you, too,” Raptor reminds me, tossing Arrod’s book back down on the table with a thump. The Taurian opens his own book and tears out the marked page, tossing it aside. Kipp grabs it, too, then rips a page out of his book as well.

“Don’t be jealous,” I joke.

Raptor shoots me a wild-eyed stare, jaw clenched, and I wonder at his mood again. Master Jay starts heading back to our table, and Raptor opens his book again, deliberately avoiding the chapter where he tore the page out. “We’ll talk about this on the weekend.”

Master Jay returns. “It’s the weather,” he announces. “The archivists say there are a great many beetles coming inside searching for moldy paper. They’re aware of the situation. There’s no need to be afraid.”

I’m not afraid—not of beetles anyhow. But I nod and open my book again, the words a blur in front of my face.

Who’s coming after me and why?