The locks at home had been child’s play compared to this. I had wrestled with this one for the better part of an hour. How many times had I picked the Scholar’s or the Chancellor’s doors or—especially fun for me—the Timekeeper’s, resetting his clock and timepieces? That had especially angered my father, but I’d only done it hoping it would create an extra hour in his day for me. I’d thought he might even appreciate my resourcefulness. He didn’t, but my brothers secretly grinned each time he chastised me. The pride in their faces alone had made it worth it.
But this lock was rusty and stubborn, and a simple hairpin wouldn’t budge it, much less this sliver of tinder, which was the only tool I could find. I wriggled it in the keyhole again, this time a little too enthusiastically, and it broke off.
“Damn!” I threw the broken stub to the ground. So the door wasn’t an option. There were other ways out of a room, perhaps a little riskier, but not impossible. I went to the window again. The ledge outside was walkable, a good ten inches wide. It was a harrowing drop to the ground, but only a couple of yards away, it connected to the top of a wide wall that branched into two different paths that might lead anywhere. Unfortunately, all three of my windows were in plain view of soldiers in the courtyard below, and they seemed to have an unusual interest in looking up here. I had waved to them twice. Before he left, Kaden had told me, “It will be safer for you to stay here.” He had tried to make it sound like he was only trying to keep others out, but it was clear he still didn’t trust that I’d stay put.
I flopped down on the bed. He left me with food and water and the promise to return by nightfall. That was hours away, and I still had no information about Rafe. Where was he? I thought about how the guards had beaten him before, but surely they wouldn’t beat him now that he’d struck a deal with the Komizar. I hoped. I should have risked asking Kaden. I could have worded it in a casual, disinterested way.
“No,” I sighed, and rolled over, nestling into the warmth of the bed. There were only so many things I could safely disguise in my face and voice. For me, Rafe wasn’t one of them. It was safer not to talk of him at all. I’d only arouse Kaden’s suspicions.
I stared vacantly across the room, wondering what sort of matter could occupy so much of his time, but then I noticed something tucked beside one of the trunks. It hadn’t been there before. I sat up, curious. A dusty bedroll? I got up and walked closer. It was mine. My bedroll! And beneath it, my saddlebag!
How did they get here? Had Eben also secreted these away before they were sold at market? I grabbed my saddlebag and dumped it out on the bed, the contents flying. The beaded scarf Reena gave me, my brush, my tinderbox, the crumbled remains of the chiga weed—everything—including the ancient texts I had stolen, still tucked in their leather sleeves. My mood transformed from frustrated to jubilant in an instant. Even the simplest item like the string of leather to tie back my hair brought me joy, things that were mine and not borrowed or bought with the Komizar’s coin. But especially the books. I quickly tucked them under the mattress of the bed in case anyone thought of taking them back.
I shook out my bedroll and lifted the cloak, still tied up with string, that the vagabond women had given me in case the weather turned. The days and nights had been so warm across the savanna I’d had no need of it except as an occasional pillow. I pulled the string free and threw the cloak around my shoulders, savoring its warmth, but especially cherishing those who gave it to me, remembering the blessings they sent with me, even little Natiya’s angry wish for harm to come to Kaden’s teeth. I smiled. The cloak felt like their arms around me once again. I grabbed a fistful of fabric and held it to my cheek, soft and the color of a midnight forest—
And the color of dark weathered stone.
There was one more window—the one in the chamber closet. I ran to it. Maybe with the dark cover of a cloak, that one would be far enough out of view of the guards that I might slip out unnoticed. In my rush, I slid on the braided rug in the tiny room and fell against the rough stone wall. I rubbed my bruised shoulder, cursing the tear I’d made in Kaden’s shirt. I went to the window and peeked out. A guard looked up and nodded, as if he expected my recurring appearances. Kaden must have warned them to keep a close eye on all windows of his room. I grumbled out a low, angry oath as I smiled and waved back. I stooped to smooth out the skewed rug and noticed a slightly wider gap between the floor planks. Cold air seeped through the crack. I pushed the rug aside and saw that the line continued around in a perfect square. At one end was an embedded iron ring. The Sanctum is riddled with abandoned passageways.
This was how he did it.
I hadn’t slept through the screeching hinges of the door. He’d made a silent exit this way. My heart hammered as I reached for the ring. I pulled, and the floor lifted up. Iron levers smoothly unfolded beneath the planks to reveal a black hole and the barely visible beginnings of a staircase. Thick air, dusty and ancient, crawled upward, chilling the small room.
It was an escape. But to what? I leaned over, peering into the black hole, but the stairs disappeared into oblivion. Some with deadly drops.
I shook my head and started to shut the trapdoor, then stopped.
If Kaden could go down and come out on the other side, so could I. I hiked up the cloak and swung my feet down to the first stair. I positioned the heavy rug back over the trapdoor so it would fall back into place when I closed it, but finding the will to close it behind me took some time. I finally took a deep breath and let it drop.
The stairs were steep and narrow. My hands glided along the stone walls on either side to help me feel my way down, sometimes passing through what I could only imagine were enormous spiderwebs. I suppressed a shiver and reminded myself of all the webs I had swept away at the inn. Harmless, Lia. Small, Lia. Compared to the Komizar, innocent little creatures. Keep going.
Step after step, I saw nothing but deep suffocating black. I blinked, almost unsure if my eyes were open. I sensed the staircase curve, my left foot finding greater purchase on the step than the right, and then after a dozen steps, blessed light appeared. Dim at first, and then blazing. It was only a finger-thin gap in the stone blocks of the outer wall, but in the darkness, it shone like a blessed lantern. It illuminated the path below me, and I was able to move at a faster pace. Some of the stone steps had crumbled away, and I had to carefully ease myself down to a third or even a fourth step. I finally came to a landing that led to a dark passageway and reluctantly stepped into complete blackness again. After only a few steps, I ran into a solid wall. A dead end. It has to lead somewhere, I thought, but then remembered the haphazard construction of the entire city. I found my way back to the staircase, down more steps to another landing and dark passageway—and another dead end. My throat tightened. The musty air was suddenly choking me, and my fingers were stiff with cold. What if Kaden hadn’t come this way? What if this was one of those closed-up forgotten passageways that I’d never find my way out of again?
I closed my eyes, though it made little difference in the dark. Breathe, Lia. You haven’t made it this far for nothing. My fingers curled into fists. There was a way out, and I would find it.
I heard a noise and whirled around.
A woman stood at the other end of the passage.
I was so shocked I didn’t have the sense to be afraid at first. Her face was hazy in the shadows, and her long hair fell in twisted strands all the way to the floor.
And then I knew. Deep in my gut, I knew who she was, though all the rules of reason told me it was impossible. This was the woman I had seen in the shadows of Sanctum Hall. The woman who had watched me from the ledge. The very same woman who had sung my name from a wall thousands of years ago. The one pushed to her death, and the namesake of a kingdom determined to crush mine.
This was Venda.