The Tyranny of Ghosts_ Legacy of Dhakaan - Don Bassingthwaite [26]
From over a table covered in books and scrolls and loose pieces of age-darkened paper, two faces stared back at them in surprise. One was Tenquis. The other was—
“Kitaas!” snarled Ekhaas. “What are you doing here?”
For an instant, both the artificer and the archivist simply looked startled. Then Kitaas rose imperiously. “I, my sister, am recovering the heritage of Dhakaan while you seem intent on denying it!”
Ekhaas bared her teeth. “What are you talking about?”
Geth felt a whirl of confusion. After Kitaas’s greeting when they had arrived in Volaar Draal, he wouldn’t have expected that she and Tenquis would exchange polite words, let alone meet in secret. The only thing he could really understand was why Chetiin had insisted they see this for themselves. He wouldn’t have believed it.
A scowl flitted across Tenquis’s face, and he stood as well. “Get out!” he said. “Just get out and leave us alone.”
Ekhaas and Kitaas had locked eyes, however. “You travel with a store of knowledge you don’t even recognize,” said Kitaas. “This one understands the lore of the daashor better than our own smiths”—she pointed at Tenquis—“and archivists will record Kitaas as the one who bargained to bring it back.”
“You called him chaat’oor,” Ekhaas said. “Which is he, then? A defiler of Dhakaan or a guardian of its lore?”
Geth looked to Tenquis in surprise. The tiefling’s face was taut with frustration. “I traded some of my knowledge for access to records from the vault,” he said. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Records from the vaults?” Ekhaas strode up to the table and snatched up a scroll. “Kitaas, you took records from the vaults?”
Kitaas’s ears flicked. “Don’t question my muut. I am adjunct to the High Archivist. The secrets of the daashor are worth showing a few minor histories to a chaat’oor.”
“We can talk about this later,” said Tenquis. He turned golden eyes to Geth. “Please just go now!”
The hair on Geth’s arms and the back of his neck rose. There was more than just frustration and anger in Tenquis’s voice. There was anxiety too. Maybe even outright fear. He genuinely needed them out of there. “Ekhaas,” Geth said, “we should go. This isn’t the right time—”
The duur’kala wasn’t swayed. She looked at the scroll in her hands. “The life of Taruuzh?” Her glare moved from Kitaas to Tenquis. “I’ve been struggling on my own to learn about the Rod of Kings and you’ve been here learning about the rod’s maker with her.” Ekhaas flung down the scroll. “Is all of this about Taruuzh?”
Kitaas froze. Her eyes darted to Tenquis, and her ears went all the way back.
“No,” said Tenquis. His voice was soothing, but he took a step away from her and held out his hands. “No, Kitaas. This isn’t what you think.”
“Isn’t it?” asked Kitaas, baring her teeth—then she grabbed a curl of paper from the table and bolted for the door.
“No!” Tenquis spat. “Stop her!”
Geth leaped. Kitaas tried to duck past him, but he got his arms around her and wrestled her to the ground. She drew breath, ready to shout. Geth freed one hand and slapped it over her mouth, then yanked it away with a hiss as she sank sharp teeth into his fingers. He grabbed a fold of her black robe, forcing it into her mouth and holding it there as a makeshift gag. Kitaas’s eyes blazed at him.
Her hands writhed underneath them. Geth heard the tearing of paper.
“Get her up!” Tenquis came hurrying around the table. Geth twisted around, turning Kitaas over. Scraps of paper fluttered away. Tenquis cursed and scooped them up. His face flushed dark. “Mercy of the sorcerer-kings!” he cursed as he bent down to pry the last pieces from Kitaas’s fingers. “Well done, Ekhaas. You couldn’t have just left us alone?”
She looked at him in amazement. “What were you doing?” she asked.
The tiefling’s teeth showed stark white against his skin. “What you couldn’t. Getting an archivist’s help.” He got the last bit of paper away from Geth’s prisoner and stood. “I’m sorry, Kitaas, but she was right.”
Kitaas shrieked into her makeshift gag, thrashing with new energy. Geth tightened