Chapter 38-Wanting Home

Sam’s POV

  I wanted to go home so badly that for a moment I resented the people who had made these records difficult to reach. Then I looked at the resident totals again. Someone’s family stood behind those numbers, and I could spare them another careless conclusion.

  “I will remain through the annex review,” I decided with quiet certainty.

  “I assumed you would,” Halden replied.

  “You could pretend to be disappointed on my behalf,” I remarked dryly.

  “I’m saving my sympathy for the southern cooks who made your welcome meal too early,” he said.

  I laughed at Halden’s joke, then thought of Odett. She didn’t have a date to count down to because I hadn’t given her one. I hated leaving her to wait. At least she wouldn’t spend a morning looking for me because I had promised something I couldn’t manage.

  We spent the afternoon preparing a comparison sheet for the missing volume. Each disputed total received its own column, source date, and explanation of what the record did not establish. Celene insisted that the blood evidence remain separate from the resident count, while Maris added the limits of every spell used on the binding.

  “If the annex contains eight names, the officers will call the discrepancy solved,” Celene warned.

  “Then our report will ask whether those same eight people appear in the gate and protection records at the relevant dates,” I replied thoughtfully.

  “And if they do?” Pell questioned with guarded interest.

  “We record that the totals reconcile,” I answered without hesitation. “We do not make the pages confess to anything beyond that.”

  Pell studied me, then turned back to the ledger. His shoulders lowered slightly. Perhaps he had expected us to arrive with an accusation and search his pages until we found a way to support it.

  By evening, the storm had thickened beyond the windows. Snow erased the lower half of the courtyard wall and turned the gate lanterns into blurred circles of gold. The record guard would not reach the eastern house before morning, even if the river ward passed inspection.

  I left the workroom only after all four seals were restored. Halden accompanied me to the quarters Edric had assigned our team, then continued toward the kitchens in search of something he claimed could not legally be called stew. I carried the blank message sheet into my room and closed the door behind me.

  My quarters held a narrow bed, a washstand, and a chair beneath the window. My packed travel bag stood where I had left it that morning. I had hoped to take it south today, and I could not quite bring myself to unpack.

  Kyron settled closer when I opened the protected writing case. The first page belonged to Zion and required facts, not frustration. I listed the annex references, Edric’s limited approval, the weather delay, and the new estimated review period without suggesting the missing book had been hidden.

  I ended the official report with the sentence I least wanted to write. Southern departure postponed until the joint team completes the supervised comparison. No confirmed conclusion at this time.

  I took out a second sheet for my family. Rain had arranged a private seal years ago after Orian started adding insults to the margins of official reports. I sat with my pen above the page until Kyron spoke.

  ‘Tell them the truth,’ Kyron urged with quiet steadiness.

  ‘Which part?’ I asked silently.

  ‘The part that does not make Odett responsible for fixing it,’ he answered gently.

  I told them the records had held us up and the team was safe. Then I complained about the northern weather’s personal grudge against me and warned Jess not to eat my share of everything while I was away. I could almost hear her answer. For a moment, writing the note felt like talking across the table at home.

  My pen stopped when I reached Odett’s name. I missed her, and I wanted to tell her I was trying to get home. I would save the rest for a conversation she could answer, rather than send a confession through the family dispatch.

  Instead, I wrote one line beneath the family message. Tell Odett I am still coming home; I am only refusing to bring an unfinished answer with me.

  It promised no day I could not control. It gave her something better than silence. I read the line once more before folding the page.

  A knock sounded before I could seal the pages. Celene stood outside with a folded document and an expression sharpened by concern. She waited until I opened the door wider before offering it to me.

  “Pell found the river-ward inspection notice attached to the transfer order,” she explained quietly.

  “Does it change the route?” I asked with immediate focus.

  “It changes who may retrieve the archive box,” she answered. “The guard needs a witch examiner because the ward was repaired after the same water damage.”

  Maris was the only witch examiner assigned to our team. If she traveled east, the ledger here could not be opened until she returned because Edric’s conditions required every representative to be present. The work had divided itself into two tasks while giving us only one person authorized to complete either.

  “Can Edric assign one of his examiners to the retrieval?” I asked carefully.

  “He can, but none are stationed here,” Celene replied. “Pell has requested one from the northern garrison.”

  “Another day,” I concluded with contained disappointment.

  “At least another day,” she corrected reluctantly.

  I laid the notice beside the report and revised the estimate. A damaged archive and overlapping rules had brought the review to a halt. The delay was ordinary; the stories people might invent while we waited were not.

  Before midnight, Edric approved the northern examiner’s travel. Maris would remain with the original ledger, the examiner would escort the record guard east, and every seal would be documented before the annex entered our room. The solution was slow, supervised, and fair enough to preserve the review.

  I sealed both messages and carried them to the protected dispatch station. The messenger warned that the storm might delay transmission until the southern relay cleared. I signed the time beneath his note so no one would mistake a late arrival for silence.

  Fresh snow hid the road markers when I stepped outside. Odett was home beyond them, twenty years old and owed an explanation from me. I could not make the weather or Edric’s records move faster by staring south.

  The old distance had been a choice I made while Odett was a child. These extra days belonged to the investigation, and I would not let impatience put a false conclusion in our report.

  Kyron stayed close as I went back inside. We both wanted the road. First we would finish reading the names, so that when I did come home, I could tell Zion what the pages actually held.