Page 27 of Four Ruined Realms (The Broken Blades #2)

Sora

The Temple of Knowledge, Khitan

Euyn searches the scroll room for threats, but I can’t take my eyes off the eight priests lying in the middle of the floor. They range in age from around twenty to over seventy. Three were women. And they all died slowly.

A shiver careens down my spine as I stare. All their mouths are open as if reciting something together, but they look peaceful. I’ve seen the difference between a body accepting death and one bitterly fighting it.

We leave the scroll room and search the rest of the temple, weapons drawn, because whoever did this might still be here, lying in wait. Anyone bold enough to slaughter all the Yoksa has nothing to lose and thus is wildly dangerous.

We pass a body slumped on the ground by the blood splatter on the back wall—a ninth priest. I don’t understand why he’s not with the others, but he is also dead with his eyes open. This one is smiling.

I shake off another chill.

All the Yoksa have fatal, painful stab wounds to their midsections. The lone priest was also slashed in the neck.

The five of us stop at the fountain altar. Aeri and I catch our breath. Seeing this much death drains your soul. And I’m so very tired. Tired from riding all night, tired of never being safe, tired of always having to persevere. But the only way to free my sister is to get to the queen. I stand straight, with my head held high. We must keep going.

We gather ourselves and search the room to the left. Luckily, there are no bodies here, but it’s ransacked. The reading tables are overturned, volumes torn apart. Paper obscures the floor tiles the way blood did in the other room. I’m not sure how many books were destroyed—probably hundreds.

Gods, what Daysum and I would’ve done with hundreds of books as children.

Someone was searching for something. I can’t imagine what or why. And it’s impossible to tell if they succeeded or not.

“What do we do now?” I ask.

Mikail relaxes, sheathing his sword. “We find the exceptions to the Rule of Distance.”

“How are we gonna find anything in here?” Royo asks, gesturing around.

It’s a good point. There have to be a hundred thousand books and five times that many scrolls in this temple. If I remember correctly, the temples house not just the history of Khitan but also Wei, Yusan, and Gaya. The four original realms of the Dragon Lord—a complete history of the thousand years of human rule.

I look up and around. We could spend the entire monsoon season reading and still not find what we’re looking for. Our plan always depended on the priests being alive and willing to help us.

My ear chimes, my fingers growing icy. We don’t have time. Every second we waste is another second Daysum and Ty suffer. Another moment where I could lose one or both forever.

“Why don’t we ask him to help?” Aeri points up above us.

Cowering on the second floor, under a library ladder, sits a priest. He has the same bald spot as the one we were following, which explains how he is still alive.

He just got here.

Mikail speaks in Khitanese to the man, asking for help and promising safety. It’s funny how language suddenly comes back, even when you haven’t heard it in years. It’s like picking up a conversation with an old friend.

Though he doesn’t speak a word, the priest eventually climbs down the spiral staircase. He is a middle-aged man of medium height with a timid air. He’s a priest of knowledge, not a warrior or a blade—that much is certain. Even Euyn realizes he is not a threat and lowers his bow.

Mikail talks as the priest stands at the bottom of the stairs, clutching the gilded railing. There’s no response. He tries again in Yusanian.

“If he ain’t talking, I can make him talk,” Royo offers, shifting his axe.

I wonder why the priest isn’t saying anything, and then from some corner of my mind I recall that they cannot speak inside of the temple.

“He can’t talk in here,” I say. “It’s part of their vow.”

The others all turn to me, but the priest nods. Mikail waves him to the door, and then they disappear into the courtyard. A few minutes later, they come back inside.

“Our new friend, Luhk, is willing to assist us in exchange for helping him release the souls of the dead priests,” Mikail says.

The priest nods. Unsurprisingly, he understands Yusanian just as well as any of us. I imagine he speaks all languages fluently.

Euyn and Royo seem less than eager to agree, but it is a fair trade. Though I’m not sure where we can burn the bodies. Certainly not underwater.

“Royo and Euyn, I’ll need your help carrying the priests out, where we can build a pyre,” Mikail says.

“Great,” Royo says. He doesn’t mean it.

Mikail turns to the priest. “In the meantime, show them where to find the exceptions to the Rule of Distance.” He points to Aeri and me.

Luhk nods and gestures for us to follow him. Women are respected here, so he doesn’t find this odd. It’s only Aeri and me looking at each other, surprised to be tasked with something so important.

Euyn whispers his objections to Mikail.

“We’re trusting them with this?” he asks.

Mikail ignores him.

I expect the priest to take us to the ransacked room, but instead he brings us upstairs. As Euyn shifts his complaints from us to the mess, I wonder when the priests were killed. I’ve never been around my victims for long, and the girls who died in school were burned before their bodies went cold. But it doesn’t seem like they’ve been dead for more than a day at most.

Luhk goes to a random spot on the wall and pulls out two large, leather-bound volumes. I thank him in Khitanese. Even though he speaks Yusanian, it is always kinder to greet someone in their native tongue. He smiles, and we go back to the main floor.

“We also need all the information you have on the relics of the Dragon Lord,” Mikail says between deep breaths. He’s hauling a large priest by the shoulders while Euyn carries the legs.

I look away from the blood dripping on the floor.

Aeri turns toward Mikail. “Why is that? I thought we weren’t stealing the ring.”

Euyn pauses but Mikail keeps walking. The body’s long legs drop with a thud.

Mikail frowns. “Because Joon might be trying to reunite the relics.”

I’m not sure what that means, but Aeri’s fingers worry the side of her cloak, so I doubt it’s anything good.

The priest goes toward the room on the left but not inside it. He takes an armful of scrolls and a volume from the third shelf down. Then he goes to another wall. And then another.

As he moves around, his robes swishing, I am certain that we never would have located this information without him. Because of that, I doubt that the people who murdered the priests found what they were looking for, either. The slow murders were likely punishment for a lack of cooperation. The serene faces were because the priests had won in death.

There’s a small comfort in that.

Aeri and I bring the books to a reading table far from the bloody scroll room. Luhk deposits ten other volumes on the table alongside the many scrolls.

It’s a lot.

Aeri opens a book on the Rule of Distance and frowns.

“This is in Khitanese,” Aeri says. “I can’t read it.”

She hands me the second volume while she opens a scroll. Luhk comes back with five more volumes on the Dragon Lord relics. I begin to read. I don’t speak enough Khitanese to decipher all of this, so I will have to wait for Mikail or Euyn, but I skim what I can and mark places I think will be relevant. I don’t want to prove Euyn right.

Some of the scrolls are written in Weian and old Gayan, and I’m not sure if even Mikail will be able to read them. But we have to try.

Aeri and I quietly read. It’s almost peaceful, except for the shuffling out of bloodied bodies and Royo cursing between grunts.