Chapter 18: The Name in the Margin

The Crown's copy was, rather conveniently, the easiest to read.

Three diplomatic records hung in frames inside Moonglass's preservation room. The dragon copy displayed a neat royal seal. The elven version was covered in cramped script, while three signatures marked the neutral copy. Even old documents seemed to know which ones were supposed to look important.

Professor Harrow had authorized their access and left them to work. Preservation glyphs glimmered along the cases, protecting the old documents from damage. A translation lens waited beside the nearest frame. Tessa moved toward the elven copy.

"You've already decided," Zoran said.

"I've decided where to start."

"Because you expect it to disagree with the Crown."

"Because an elven evacuation ledger already did." She studied the unfamiliar writing. That ledger had placed Aileen and Kael alive after the Crown Chronicle declared them dead. She wasn't going to forget it just because other people found the official dates more convenient.

Zoran joined her at the frame. "And Fen told us the ledger's surviving copy couldn't be authenticated as securely."

"He also said it was probably genuine."

"Then we'll need something stronger than probably."

How reassuring. She'd brought the Dragon Heir to help investigate history, and he'd arrived with a complete set of objections. Yet he'd come. After the questions she'd asked him and the ones she'd avoided, he was still here.

"Do you actually want to find something?" she asked.

"Yes. Preferably something we can defend when someone challenges it."

That was irritatingly reasonable.

Across the room, Valerius was studying the seals on the other copies. Tessa kept him in view. The last time they'd spoken, he'd admitted he could see magic changing Theo's body. He hadn't exposed her, but that didn't make standing in a quiet room with him any easier.

Valerius joined them at the elven frame. "This isn't a direct translation," he said. “The elven copy includes notes that explain decisions the other versions only mention briefly.”

"So you can read it?" Tessa asked.

"Some of it." He leaned toward a cramped line beside the main text. "But this notation doesn't belong to the original treaty."

Tessa stepped closer. "Then who added it?"

Valerius adjusted the translation lens. "Someone added it when the records were handled later. It isn't part of the treaty."

"Then what does it say?" Tessa asked.

He studied the cramped symbols while Zoran stepped over to the dragon copy. The elven page hung motionless behind its glass. Tessa wished her own hands were as cooperative.

"The original entry was kept," Valerius said. "Only its status changed."

"Changed how?"

He read the next line, then frowned slightly. "Removed from active authority."

Tessa gripped the edge of the case. The elven account hadn't simply been forgotten. Someone had decided it should no longer matter, and she couldn't even read the decision without Valerius. How was she supposed to stay calm about that?

Zoran's hand stilled against the dragon frame. He'd been ready with an argument a moment ago. Now he was watching Valerius as though the words had caught him off guard.

"They rewrote it," she said.

"Standardized isn't the same as falsified," Zoran replied, although his voice had lost some of its certainty.

"That's convenient."

"Suspicion isn't evidence, Monroe."

"Neither is a royal seal."

Valerius glanced between them. "You're both getting ahead of the text." He indicated the margin. "The notation doesn't call the record false or invalid. Someone later decided it would no longer carry official authority."

A missing page could have been an accident. This wasn't. How many people had read the decision without questioning it? Zoran returned to the elven frame and examined the note again.

"It also isn't the same as disproving the original."

Tessa turned toward him. "You believe that?"

"I believe we should follow what the evidence says. Isn't that why we're here?"

He could have defended the Crown and ended the discussion. Instead, he'd conceded something she hadn't expected him to concede at all.

"Doesn't that put you in an awkward position?" she asked.

"Probably."

"You're surprisingly calm about it."

"I haven't decided what it means yet." He looked back at the document. "But I won't dismiss it just because I might not like what we find."

For a moment, Tessa forgot the next question she'd been preparing. She was getting used to fighting him. Listening to him was proving much less convenient.

She reached past Zoran for the next page just as he turned toward her, bringing them close enough that their shoulders almost touched. The familiar amusement was back in his eyes. Normally, she would have found something to argue about, but this time, she didn't want to move away.

"If you're done threatening the archival integrity with whatever this is," Valerius said without looking up, "I need to see that page."

Tessa pulled her hand back. "You could just ask."

"I did."

Valerius's gaze flicked toward her for an instant before returning to the writing. Had he seen a change in Theo's disguise? With Zoran beside her, Tessa wasn't about to ask.

"There's a date beneath the notation," Valerius said. "Years after the war."

Tessa leaned toward the lens. She couldn't read the figures in that script, but Valerius pointed them out through the glass.

"So someone reviewed the record long after the fighting ended?"

"That's what this entry indicates."

"Which means it survived the war." She couldn't keep the satisfaction from her voice.

"This copy did," Zoran said. "It doesn't tell us where the original went."

Of course he had to be precise. Worse, he was right.

Tessa looked toward the neat dragon seal across the room. Her parents had become names in a history lesson, their deaths reduced to dates people argued over. Now she had proof that someone had handled a conflicting account years later and chosen to remove its authority.

"Who had the right to decide that?" she asked.

Zoran took a moment before answering. "That's another question we should be able to trace."

He wasn't promising her an answer. Somehow that mattered more.

Valerius angled the framed page toward the preservation lamp. "There's also a transfer stamp."

A faint mark ran along the lower edge, partly hidden beneath the faded treaty seal. Tessa squinted, but she couldn't make out the letters.

"Try the other angle," Zoran suggested.

Valerius tilted the frame. Light caught the old stamp, revealing a single word.

SUBLEVEL. Tessa read it twice.

"A transfer destination?" she asked.

"Part of one," Valerius said.

He turned the frame to examine the back of the document. There was no building name or room number. Nothing to tell them where the transfer had led.

"Sublevel of what?"

Valerius checked the stamp again. "It doesn't say."

Zoran looked down at the floor beneath their feet.

Tessa followed his gaze. There was nothing there but polished stone, which suddenly seemed far less reassuring than it should have.