Page 90 of Esperance

Most empaths had been hunted down and killed, so any lore or knowledge they’d had as a collective was lost.

Felinus took a slow breath. “In truth, I know very little about the subject. But I can tell you that the bloodstones were first talked about around the time the empire was created. The church learned of a rumor; that empaths had a way to access unparalleled power. Obviously, this alarmed the church—and the emperor. The Order of Knights was ordered to track down the bloodstones, but no real evidence of them was ever found. And as the empaths continued to die . . . well, to be perfectly blunt, the church decided that the bloodstones couldn’t exist.”

It made a horrible sort of sense; if the empaths had been able to access a weapon, they would have used it to save themselves.

“Bloodstones have been officially dismissed by the church,” Felinus said. “Which is why they’re no longer even whispered about.”

“But I still don’t understand what a bloodstoneis.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know that anyone really understands them. No rumor was ever perfectly clear. The lore merely stated that there were five bloodstones, and that with them, the empaths could wield enough power to kill thousands—to break the very earth we stand upon.”

His dread and fear tangled, making her gut twist. “You’re afraid of them.”

“I fear theideaof them, absolutely.” His mouth tightened. “It could have been a rumor the empaths started as a way to dissuade an attack, and that could be the end of it. All I know is that bloodstones have never been proven to exist, and I find a great deal of comfort in that.”

Amryn wasn’t so sure. Her thoughts turned to Von’s journal. He was the most infamous empath to ever live, and he had clearly believed in the bloodstones. And the knight who had eventually killed him also believed in them—why else had he kept Von’s journal?

Felinus cleared his throat. “This is a dreary topic. One best left behind, I think.” He gave her a pointed look, and she gave him a nod.

Back in the shadowy backrooms of the museum, Amryn had a hard time shaking off the tension from her conversation with Felinus. The only good thing about talking about the mysterious bloodstones was that she forgot about Carver for a while.

Of course, the moment Cleric Jane handed her a numbered crate and asked her to shelve it in the appropriate place in the archives, she was reminded of the rebels and her mission, which inevitably brought Carver to mind.

At least she’d finally been given access to the archives. She trekked alone in the vast room, the crate heavy in her hands as she walked past the many shelves. There were no windows, and lamps were infrequent—just enough to avoid bumping into anything. She had to squint at the passing shelves so she could make out the numbers etched into the wood. There was a place for everything, and at this point she shouldn’t be surprised that Esperance housed so many relics and riches that not all of them could be displayed in the main part of the museum. Instead of distributing the wealth back to the kingdoms, it sat on shelves in the darkness. That was very like the empire.

She’d taken several trips back and forth from the archives. Each time, she’d taken slow steps and tried to read as many of the tags as she could. She didn’t know where the seals would be stored—or in what—but they had to be inside this cavernous room somewhere.

Finally, on one of her trips out of the archive, she spotted a wooden box sitting on the end of a shelf. The marker on the box read:Item 254 – Empirical Seals.

Her heart kicked in her chest, and she stepped closer. The dust-covered box was a faded green, and a quick inspection showed that it was locked. She would need to learn lock-picking if she hoped to reach them without anyone ever learning she’d disturbed them. She also needed wax, for copying the seals, and she’d have to find a good place to hide them—

She sensed him before she saw him.

Carver.

Her stomach dropped and she whirled, coming face-to-face with him as he rounded a corner.

His emotions were tightly clamped, making it hard to read him. But the shadows cast by the distant lamp made his expression dark and hard. “Amryn.”

She shifted slightly, using her body to shield the seals from his view, in case he bothered to read the inscription on the box. “What are you doing here?”

His thick eyebrows pulled together as he drew to a stop in front of her. “You weren’t at breakfast.”

His face, lost in the curve of Marriset’s neck. His mouth on her skin. Her fingers wrapped in his hair—

“I had no appetite.”

He tensed. His gaze was unrelenting and unapologetic, though she swore she felt a thread of regret from him.

Saints, if the Butcher felt any regret, it was probably only that he’d been caught.

She folded her arms over her chest. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to speak with you, and Cleric Jane said you’d be back here.”

“I don’t want to speak with you.”

His chin lowered, and her pulse sped up as he took a step closer. “We need to talk.”

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