Electrum sat on the library floor with his back braced against the tapestry bundle. Silverthorn had helped him get it this far without being seen. Now he had to wait for dawn when it was Simon’s habit to come to the library. He hoped the sprite would be punctual.
Night settled over the palace. Ordinary sounds that were unnoticed in daylight now seemed loud and unfamiliar. Branches creaked like footsteps. Leaves rustled like whispering voices.
A thin stream of chilly air seeped out from around the trap door making the hard floor cold. He wanted to slip off to his own room and into the warmth of his hammock. But he couldn’t leave the tapestry unguarded, and it was too risky to carry it through the halls where he might meet Sterling.
Light from the glowstone lamp created a small oasis of light in the room and sent the shadows quivering into the corners. He tried not to think about the trap door. Images of unpleasant things that might be hiding in the tunnel crept into his thoughts. For a brief moment he considered opening the door to look, but quickly discarded the idea. He pushed one end of the tapestry over the door so that it couldn’t open without alerting him.
Squirming around and pushing on the bundle he tried to find a comfortable position. The light was too bright for sleeping, but he didn’t like the idea of covering it. Even on the hard floor his body was ready to sleep, but too many puzzles chased through his head.
For the next couple hours he searched through the old writings looking for answers. There was just nothing on humans. The only passage he was able to find was the one he had been dreading. The one his father had read to him many times. It had been in the corner of his mind for months.
“The first pookahs were a result of the Great Catastrophe. Later there were first generation pookahs from the union of sprites from different twilights. All pookahs are therefore honor bound to assist any young sprite who wishes to change twilights for true love.”
It was short and clear. He would have to help Silverthorn. And now they both had an obligation to help Trevor. He felt a twinge of disloyalty to the King, but his loyalty to Silverthorn and the pookah clan was a higher responsibility. Plans for a plush retirement were quickly turning into thought dust on the wind.
Whatever happened on eclipse night, Electrum’s part in the plan would leave him out in the cold. Silverthorn would be helpless to intervene. The prince did not comprehend his father’s anger, nor was he fully aware of Sterling’s influence.
A wry smile spread across the pookah’s face. If Silverthorn did end up in the Gold Realm, maybe the King would offer him a small stipend to look after the prince. After the King’s anger subsided of course.
The glowstone was fading. It was getting harder to see the writing on the old scroll. He nudged the tapestry around until it blocked the air from the trap door. With a grunt he shifted positions until he could lay his head on the rolled tapestry. Soon his snores blended with the other night noises.
From his dreams, Electrum heard someone calling him. He tried to push them away, but the call became more persistent. The room was filled with early morning gray shadows when he opened his eyes. Someone was bending over him.
“Who...” he cried out, and struggled to his feet.
“Hush, Electrum. It’s just me,” Simon said. “Let’s try not to wake everyone.”
“Sorry,” Electrum said softly and pushed aside the scroll.
“Doing a little late night reading?” Simon’s voice was also soft. He placed a fresh glowstone in the lamp and uncovered it part way. Soft light filled the room.
Electrum felt musty and stiff from sleeping on the floor. He ran his fingers through his hair scattering dream dust.
“I was hoping to see you yesterday and hear what you discovered from Mirta.”
“I was waiting for you,” Electrum said.
Simon looked surprised. “You are always welcome to come to my rooms.”
Electrum shook his head. “I didn’t want to have any encounters with Sterling. I was fortunate to get it here without detection.”
“I’m fascinated already. What intriguing item did you bring?”
“Help me with this.” He grasped one end of the bundle and nodded at the other end. Together they picked it up and placed it on the table. “From Mirta.”
Simon’s hands trembled as he opened the tag. It read Simon, Palace Tree, Mirta’s Woven Dreams. “Then it wasn’t on Ragnar’s ship.”
Electrum shrugged. “It was. But it was...recovered...by a very small task force.”
“And who might that be?”
“As Mirta would say, some things need to remain hidden. I’m sure you understand the importance of discretion.”
Electrum couldn’t be sure, but he thought he detected a smile.
“Shall we have a look?” Simon asked.
“I was hoping you would offer.”
They removed the cloth cover. The tapestry end rolled over the table edge and fell to the floor. Simon held the glowstone, and they bent over it. The pattern was simple red and brown stripes.
Electrum felt a stab of disappointment. “That’s not the Silver Harbor. That’s one of her automated patterns.”
Simon ran his fingers over it. “There’s no magic in this weaving. Perhaps your task force took a fancy to the more elaborate scene.”
Electrum shook his head. “It hasn’t been out of my possession since it was taken out of the crate on the Salamander.”
Simon sucked in his breath. “You did the recovery? By yourself?”
“Almost.”
Simon stared at him for a long moment. “We are in your debt.” He checked the tag again. “Someone must have switched the tags in route.”
Electrum felt a chill. “Sterling’s pollywogs,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
Electrum explained what Ragnar had told him about some of the pollywogs being loyal to Sterling.
“I was not aware his influence had reached so far,” Simon said. “This is serious news. I fear who might hold the other tapestry now.”
“It may still be on the ship, if it hasn’t dissolved.” Electrum felt a wave of weariness. “I guess I’ll have to go back and check.”