Chương 90: A Fragment of God's Word

Kichan did not step back. Argaon's arm moved first, blocking the space before the wake-up rod.

"Everyone but you." The Saint took his hand from the box. The Saintess retreated two steps as well. When Dust stretched its body toward the box, Riphiel hurriedly pulled it against her chest and caught the saber-toothed tiger by the scruff. Valkyrie flattened itself behind Kichan's shoulder.

"Why?"

"That thing is calling you."

"Then I should look."

"If you followed everything that called you, you would have died several times by now." Kichan started to argue, then closed his mouth. The warmth kept climbing through the wake-up rod into his palm. It was not so much hot as the tepid warmth of a spoon left in his hand too long. The real problem was inside his throat. It did not itch enough to make him cough, but felt as though a tiny thorn had caught beneath the root of his tongue. Argaon approached the box.

He neither put his nose near it nor reached out to touch it. After studying the white light leaking from beneath the black cloth, he motioned to the Saint with his chin.

"Remove the cloth first." The Saint drew it away completely. The box was made of black wood. Silver plates reinforced each corner, and the lid was covered in writing Kichan could not read. Three flat seals hung from the ends of fine chains connecting the silver plates. The Saint pressed the first seal. Click. The first seal released. He moved his finger to the second. Click. The second seal released. The wake-up rod vibrated once in Kichan's hand. The Saint pressed the final seal. Click.

The moment the third seal fell away, Kichan's throat tightened. He swallowed. Whatever had caught there did not go down. The Saint slowly lifted the lid. A small fragment lay inside the box. It was neither stone nor metal. It was about the length of two finger joints and looked like a shard of broken glass. Yet light did not gather on its surface. Each time something shifted inside it, the white light changed shape. Kichan took a step closer without realizing it. The tip of the wake-up rod pointed toward the box.

"Stay still." Kichan forced the rod down.

"I am." The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. Argaon looked at Kichan's hand.

"Not your hand. That thing."

"Why are you telling me?" The Saintess and the Saint did not answer. They were watching Kichan rather than the fragment. The Saintess spoke first.

"We call it a Fragment of God's Word."

"Did God chip a tooth while talking?" Riphiel closed her eyes. The Saint was briefly lost for words, while the Saintess's lips moved without producing an answer. Argaon looked into the box.

"A word did break."

"Really?"

"Not the way you're imagining." The Saintess opened an old leather-bound record beside the box. Beneath her finger was a drawing of a white owl and a small pouch.

"This record dates to a time when the old Kingdom War and the Great Famine overlapped. It says that after a relief priest tending refugees disappeared, the white owl that followed him returned to the Church carrying this."

"What happened to the priest?"

"He was never found. The Papal State recorded him as a candidate for sainthood."

"And where did the owl find it?"

"No record remains."

"What about where the priest got it?" The Saintess shook her head. Kichan studied the fragment instead of the record. Its edges looked sharp, yet there were no scratches on the bottom of the box. Nor was there any of the dust glass should have left behind.

"Can I chip a little off?"

"No." The Saintess and the Saint answered together. Kichan clicked his tongue.

"I won't know what it mixes with unless I grind some." The Saint closed the leather record.

"It is said to respond to language close to that of angels. But no one has ever drawn a response from it."

"Angelic language?" The white light inside the fragment twitched. No sound came. Something moved beneath Kichan's tongue alone. A sound crouched under its root, just short of becoming speech, and refused to emerge. Kichan rubbed his jaw and pressed the wake-up rod down harder. The Saintess inhaled.

"As I thought."

"What did you think?"

"The reason God guided you here-""Never mind that." Kichan pointed at the box.

"You said this was the compensation." The Saint's gaze moved from the leather record to Kichan.

"If you investigate the matter at the border."

"I'm not solving the war."

"Kichan."

"I'm not calling kings and chieftains together to make peace, either. And I'm not deciding who's right. I can't do that." Kichan raised one finger at a time.

"The missing children." A second finger rose.

"The blocked roads." Then a third.

"The shelters no one can enter. I check those. That's as far as I go." The Saintess looked at the Saint. He did not answer immediately. The light inside the box lit his tight mouth from below.

"That will be enough."

"And once I'm done checking, I examine this myself."

"You are examining it now."

"Outside the box." The Saint fell silent again. When Kichan reached toward the lid, the Saintess hurriedly put herself between him and the box.

"Very well."

"And maybe grind some."

"That is not allowed."

"I'll look at it first." The Saintess closed the lid. As the seals locked into place one by one, the heat in Kichan's palm slowly subsided. Only when the final seal engaged did the sound beneath his tongue disappear. The Saintess lifted the box. Her arms lowered slightly when she held it against her chest with both hands. Kichan started to offer help, then withdrew his hand. The Saintess had turned away, shielding the box with her body.

"I'm not going to steal it."

"I trust you."

"Don't say that while standing like that." The white owls waited atop the tower. Kichan looked again at the saddle he had ridden in earlier.

"Again?"

"It is the fastest way to the border." The Saint mounted first. Kichan sighed and grabbed the saddle strap. The saber-toothed tiger crouched behind him. Riphiel climbed onto the other owl with Dust in her arms. Valkyrie settled on Kichan's shoulder, and Argaon leaped lightly aboard last. The Saintess sat in the opposite saddle, the sealed box held against her chest. The wings opened. The cathedral roofs and galleries below the tower rapidly shrank away.

Beyond the mountains, land with less snow stretched into the distance. Kichan narrowed his eyes against the wind. The tip of the wake-up rod leaned ever so slightly toward the box in the Saintess's arms.