“We should go,” I said, throwing the covers off. “Like now. I’m better, I promise.” As if on cue, my stomach grumbled. “Also, I’m starving. Is there anything to eat?”
Herald glanced at his watch and shrugged. “Well it’s almost seven, so I think most people have cleared out by – ”
“Seven? What the hell are you still doing at work?”
He rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Graves. We’ll order in, fill you up. Then you can come and check out all of the Gallery’s new toys.”
Chapter 15
“Wow. Slow down there, tiger.”
If I had room in my mouth or energy enough to do so I would have blurted out an aggressive “No.” I felt like I hadn’t eaten in days and that Thai green beef curry went down fast. It was the good stuff, too, made with coconut milk, and spicy enough to get me forcing more rice down my throat.
I was glad that Herald had the foresight to order three extra helpings of rice. And pad thai, and some spring rolls, all of which I’d devoured. He gave me the leftover half of his red curry, too. I didn’t know if he really was full, or if he just felt sorry for me, but I demolished that as well.
I found a moment to actually swallow, and a second to wonder when my body was finally going to realize just how much food I’d dumped into it.
“Let me live my damn life, Herald.” I washed it all down with what felt like half a takeout cup of Thai iced tea, that beautifully sweet and creamy stuff that they made with lots of condensed milk. I’d finished mine, too, so technically I was sucking down on Herald’s share. He didn’t seem to mind, but that didn’t keep the look of bemusement off his face.
“Just saying, it could be a shock to your system, the way you’re shoving all of that right in your face.”
“I know,” I conceded. I waved at the table. “But there’s nothing left, so there’s nothing else for you to worry about just now.”
Herald furrowed his brow. “You’re not still hungry, are you? We can think of something else to eat later.” He was fiddling with something at his workspace, the usual little phials of powder scattered across his desktop. “Well, after I’m done.”
I swallowed the rest of the iced tea – sweet nectar, I tell you – and tipped a couple of ice cubes into my mouth, letting them dissolve into cool water. “You aren’t seriously still staying, are you? I thought you were heading home after we ate.”
Herald scratched his chin, his nails making a faint scraping over his stubble. It was a pretty clear visual indication of how little attention he’d been paying to himself in favor of his work.
“I know, I know,” he said, still scratching at his chin. “I’m just trying something different, all right? Itches like hell, but can’t hurt to test out a new look.”
I shrugged. “Suits you,” I said, tossing back the last of my ice cubes.
“Thanks. You can stop worrying. Like I said, this is temporary. There’s just been so much happening.” He swept his hand around the archives, and I picked up on what he meant.
I hadn’t really noticed in my feeding frenzy earlier, but there did seem to be several new installments from the last time I’d visited. I say installments because the Gallery really did look like a museum at times, with all those books and artifacts under glass. Bulletproof, of course, and not because the archivists were trying to keep prying fingers out, but to keep the artifacts in where they belonged. Some of them could get pretty frisky.
“Just saying,” I said. “I can see you’ve been busy, but it doesn’t hurt to take a break once in a while.”
“Fine. Just finishing this one thing, and I’ll head home.” His nose crinkled as he furrowed his brow, his glasses slipping again. “You sure you don’t want to grab something else on the way out?”
I patted my belly. “Nah. I think I’m good.” I probably was. My body was starting to acknowledge the fact that I’d filled it to capacity. “Plus I really don’t think Thea wants me roaming around after dark. Especially not now. I’ll order something if I get hungry.”
Herald nodded at his desk. “There are takeout menus in my left drawer. Or, you know, just look stuff up online. And be sure to deactivate the wards.”
“Got it.” He’d shown me how to do that earlier on, shortly after I first joined the Lorica. I believed him outright when he said it was crucial. The best case scenario for not deactivating front door security was a pile of ash that used to be a delivery man. Worst case involved being incinerated yourself.
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“Make yourself busy,” Herald said, shooing me away with one hand.
He bent closer to his desk, and then it was like I wasn’t there. His mouth went slack as soon as he started peering through that enormous magnifying glass he kept suspended on a weird multijointed arm bolted to his desk. Kind of like a jeweler’s loupe, only way bigger. I’d noticed that the other archivists had their own glasses at their stations as well, so it wasn’t an apparatus he used exclusively for his powders. The Lorica liked it when the artifacts were properly sorted and categorized, down to the smallest details.
Actually, sometimes it was the smallest details that mattered. Herald once told me that they found a little box with sigils and etchings carved into its surface. It took some very close inspection to discover that there was a series of buttons embedded in the cube, and that activating them in a particular sequence opened a portal to hell itself, or a place very much like it.
The archivist who figured that out was very lucky, or not at all, depending on how you looked at it. On one hand, he got a sizeable bonus for ensuring that no one at the Lorica got sucked into an infernal dimension. On the other, he made the discovery himself, which meant that he got a glimpse of said dimension. He was never himself after the incident, plus his eyebrows never really grew back.
And that was how I knew to be extra vigilant as I wandered around the Gallery. Arcane acquisition was dangerous enough without the risks of accidentally pressing the wrong button on some mechanical artifact, or of accidentally triggering the contingency spells on a grimoire that alerted its owners when it was in danger.