Page 6 of Destroyer

Archie snapped back, his words cutting.

But Ru was done listening.

Her mind had moved on to what was yet to come, the vibrating unknown. If everyone wanted to bicker about her paper on magic, then fine. They could go right ahead. Even the professors were joining in now, attempting to quell the tide of sharp laughter and general animosity, a feat which they were used to attempting and seldom achieving. Academics could be exceedingly antagonistic if they put their minds to it.

“Excuse me,” said Ru, sidling closer to Lyr.

The tall dark-haired rider looked like he was getting ready to draw his sword, so aggressive were the academics’ antics. He turned at the sound of Ru’s voice, relaxing slightly.

“Do you have water?” she asked. “I’m indescribably thirsty.”

He nodded. “With the horses.”

Ru thought about what would happen next. She would wait for the academics’ aggressive ire to die out, wait for their attention to sway back to her. And then she would say goodbye, awkwardly, avoiding direct eye contact, avoiding hugs, staring at the ground. She would say something pointless, like “goodbye for now,” or “see you later.” She would bite back tears, flaming with self-consciousness as everyone looked on, before turning to go.

Would it all be worth it? The hugs, the goodbyes, the stilted niceties… she decided with a sigh that she would rather avoid it altogether.

She nodded, too, matching Lyr’s. “Right. Let’s go.”

She was glad that she had already been wearing her satchel of tools, otherwise, she would have had to make an embarrassing trek through the tents to gather her belongings.

It was the work of a moment — struggling into the saddle, watching the other riders leap onto their horses, the hot sun glinting on their armor. She willed Archie to look at her, to catch her eye. At last he did, first glancing around for her in the small crowd of academics and professors, then away toward the riders, until at last their eyes met. His brows raised slightly, his lips parting in shock.

She lifted a hand, a quick wave, her smile apologetic.I’ll see you soon, she tried to say through expression alone. And while chaos reigned around him, Archie stood stock still, watching her, and finally he smiled as if to say,Good luck then, Ru.

He understood.

And then with a quick sharp cry, Sybeth marked their departure. In a flurry of hoofbeats and dust and the waning cries of surprise from the academics and professors, Ru and the King’s Riders were off.

CHAPTER2

Ru hardly registered most of the journey to the mysterious new dig site, she was so deep in thought. It was now clear that something in the realm of perceived magic must have been discovered. Why else would they send for her?

The more she thought about it, the more it all seemed so silly. The last several decades had seen a great emergence of advanced, progressive thought in Navenie. Mirith, the capital city, led the charge in popularizing scientific discovery. While the Tower had been the center of scholarship and discovery for centuries and was widely considered Navenie’s beating heart of education and progressive thought, it wasn't the only center of learning in the kingdom. Only in the last hundred years had science become fashionable to the upper crust of society.

Naturally, the regent’s palace was host to countless intellectuals, inventors, authors, and all the brightest minds of a generation. She even had a contingency of her own royal scholars, collected from graduates of the Cornelian Tower, and more distant universities.

Yet the popular focus was always on hard facts, proven hypotheses. Even the study of astrology, a metaphysical science, was based on the celestial bodies. The concept of magic had no basis. Simply intuition, theory, and — in Ru’s case — persistent, stubborn passion.

She had been given a horse to ride, a chestnut gelding named Sky. She wasn’t overly fond of riding, but Sky was docile and patient.

The saddlebags housed a canteen of water and a generous amount of food, basic traveling gear, and even a change of clothes, which was a small luxury in the field. Ru was used to washing her own clothes while on site.

As they rode, despite the flurry of thoughts of magic and wonder that kept her distracted, Ru felt… not relieved… but free in some way. Ahead of her lay a great unknown, something that could be exciting, maybe even wonderful, if she allowed herself to hope.

They rode south, which was vaguely baffling to Ru. While there were bits of ancient civilization all over Navenie, ready to be dug up and studied, the direction in which they traveled was proven to be barren. Everything even close to the Shattered City had been completely vaporized in the Destruction.

But that was not worth thinking about. Not now. Thinking about the Shattered City, that strange stretch of land marked by a massive crater that was said to have once been a grand, beautiful city, always made Ru feel slightly nauseated.

When night began to fall, Sybeth stopped their small company for supper. The third rider, Rosylla, made a fire while the others brushed the horses.

“Can I help?” asked Ru, hovering by the fire while Rosylla set out the dinner things. She suddenly felt useless, pathetic. These were trained riders, accustomed to travel, to eating on the road. Ru was used to plush feather beds at best, and soft camp cots at the very worst. She had never learned to start a fire, and that fact — for the first time — filled her with shame.

Rosylla looked up, blinking in surprise. She had dark, kind eyes, a round face, and curling brown hair. She seemed younger than the other two riders, or perhaps it was just that her expression was so open. Friendly. “Oh no,” she said, waving a calloused hand. “I can tell you’re not used to riding. You need rest.”

Ru, so out of her element she felt almost like a child, settled herself on a log near the fire. She watched in silence as Rosylla tended to the fire before pulling packets of food from her pack. The rider’s movements were efficient, clipped, confident. Ru wondered if she looked like that while uncovering her vases as if she knew what she was doing.

She doubted it. Even though she loved archaeology, and felt so much fondness for past lives, there was something forced in it. Magic was her first love, the reason she had gone to the Tower to study. She imagined herself as Rosylla might see her, crouched in the sun, dirt-caked and sweating, her skin tanned and peeling in places.

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