Ice water floods my veins. There it is, that knowing again in his eyes. But he can’t know. To him I’m just some acolyte standing in this garden. A bit outspoken, but no rebel.
Right?
My throat feels so dry. There’s something calculating to this man. I’m grasping at words, already falling behind. “I—”
Footsteps sound behind me and I don’t turn, I can’t turn, because I’m not as bold or as brave as I thought. A hand settles on my shoulder. I suck in a sharp breath, sure it’s a soldier. Then I look up and see Calantha.
“There you are, Calantha,” the magistrate says. “Young Demetria and I were having a fascinating discussion while we waited.”
“My apologies, Magistrate. I had something I needed to deal with in the villa.” Calantha’s voice is calm. But her fingers dig crescents into my shoulder, she’s gripping me so hard.
The magistrate steps toward us. He’s no longer a young man, but the movement is lithe. I see the warrior he must have once been, who murdered his predecessors and took his power by force. He was a fighter long before he was a ruler. “I fear you’ve been avoiding me, Calantha.”
“I have been busy, Magistrate.”
“Yes, so many side projects. It’s a wonder you can make time for them all.”
Beside me Calantha is like stone. If she’s stone, I’m all cracks. I want to run, but even if Calantha’s hand wasn’t pinning me in place, I couldn’t have moved.
“I think you’ll be pleased by my efforts, Magistrate,” Calantha says. “If I could just have some more time. I’m working on a new way of structuring the wake rune and I—”
The magistrate reaches up and catches her chin.
Calantha’s hand clenches so suddenly tighter around my shoulder I jerk. The two of them are roughly the same height, but there’s a presence to the magistrate that makes Calantha seem breakable.
“You know, I’ve always admired how well you lie,” he says, so quietly I can hear the leaves rustling above us through his words. “Perhaps the best of all my pupils. The problem with lies, though, is that you have to be careful or else you might drown in them.” He leans in closer and something flickers in his eyes. Something dark. Something wrong. “I would be careful if I were you, Calantha. And know that I’m watching. Always.”
He lets go and he’s gone, striding back through the gardens. Guards in black, with his sigil on their sashes, melt out of the nearby bushes to trail him like shadows. I hadn’t realized they were watching.
Still we stand there. I look up at Calantha, who stares after them, a distant glaze to her eyes.
“Calantha?” I finally ask.
Her eyes come back into focus and she lets go of my shoulder, leaving only an ache behind. I rub it.
She turns away. “Come with me.”
I follow her through the gardens, only then realizing how hard I’m shaking. I stare down at my trembling hands as if they’re betraying me, but I can’t make them stop.
We go to her study. I close the door behind us as she pours herself a drink.
I sag against the door frame, struggling to gather my thoughts as a dozen questions clamor for attention. I want to ask if he knows. What he knows. What he was doing.
Instead all I can manage to say is, “How long?”
She turns, confused.
I try again. “How long was my brother with that man? The first time.”
Grief settles over her expression. “Almost a year.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. A year in a place like that. With a man like that.
“How did he escape?” I ask through gritted teeth.
“They brought out a few of the prisoners to test them. I heard about it beforehand and sent some of my people in. They managed to cause a distraction. Matthias was the only one smart enough to run. The only one we recovered that day.”
I open my eyes again and look around at the sunlight shining through the windows, the smell of nectarine blossoms wafting in from the gardens. I don’t understand why I’m here and he’s not.
“Was he...?” I trail off. No one who went through something like that could ever be all right.
Calantha lowers herself into a chair, her goblet dangling from her hand. “I’ve rescued many who have come out of the library. Some give in to anger. Others to darkness. Some rage. Some go silent. Your brother did a bit of all of that. He’d slip from the villa in the middle of the night and go walking, not caring about the danger. He’d return with things he stole. Tools. Weapons, occasionally. Once even a Scriptmaster’s golden seal that I don’t want to think how he managed to get. There was no purpose to it. I think he just wanted to hurt the Scriptorium any way he could. He never got caught. I asked him if he would like some training. There’s an old Scriptmaster here who lost his eyesight as a young man. He trained Matthias, and when Matthias was ready, I paired him with Rudy. Rudy’s a good scholar, but he doesn’t have the instincts for covert missions. They did well together.”
“Until that night.”
Calantha nods. “Yes, until that night.”
I’m sure Matthias went out on this woman’s orders. Does she regret it? I look her in the eye, wanting to see her expression as I say this. “Zara said you worked there, with him.”
A dark flash passes over Calantha’s face. Maybe saying that was cruel. But I won’t be part of this with only half the answers.
“Yes,” she says. “I’ve always had a talent for the Script. It led me to rise quickly in the Scriptorium and I relished it. When the magistrate said he had a special opportunity for me, I was eager. Eager and foolish.
“I went with him to the Magistrate’s Library. He wanted to see if I could improve the design of his obey runes, to make them work.” She gets up suddenly, her expression hard. “I was there for three weeks, working for him. He wouldn’t allow anyone else to lay hands on his prisoners. But I would give them the drinks to make them sleep. And I would stand at the magistrate’s side as he did his work. In those three weeks, every bit of glory I ever wanted from the magistrate soured. I knew I could never be like him. It was my mistake, Karis, and I will spend the rest of my life atoning for it.”
It’s hard to stand there, her gaze boring through me. Even though I knew she’d worked there, I didn’t expect that story. I didn’t expect to hear such potent regret. For the first time, I glimpse why my brother might have chosen to follow this woman.
“How did you get out?” I whisper.
“I made it seem as if I couldn’t give the magistrate what he wanted. He said I was a disappointment and told me to return to my former position. I don’t think he’s trusted me since. Luckily, I have an influential enough family, and he isn’t as powerful as he was when he first took control—there have been too many rumors darkening his work, and the talk of war with Eural is only splintering things further. He hasn’t dared to lay hands on me yet. Not without proof. I’m very careful. I’m sure he’d love to see me in chains.”
Would he take her there, to his library?
“Making the obey rune work on people, it’s all he’s ever wanted. It’s never been done before, but he is determined to see it through. With every delay he grows more frustrated. Every failed experiment makes him more desperate. More dangerous.
“That is why we fight, Karis. The Script could be a force for good in our nation. It could benefit all. It does, in other places. But here, the magistrate believes its power should only belong to a few. He’s distorted it into something it was never meant to be. Now, finally, others are rising. He knows his power is weakening. Whatever he is trying to do now is his last attempt to regain power.” Passion blazes in her eyes, and I see someone so dedicated to her cause that she would do anything. It terrifies me.
It thrills me.
She’s asking me the same thing Zara did. Challenging me. And all I can think are the words that the magistrat
e said to me:
You either take what you need no matter the cost, or you watch it be taken from you.
He said it so knowingly. And maybe I found truth in those words, too. Because when it came to survival, when it came to my brother, I would have done anything.
But I did that for family. I’m not like him.
There’s a knock at the door and we both stiffen.
“Calantha? I’m back.”
I let out a breath. Zara.
She opens the door, stepping inside, and I stare. Her usual jaunty captain’s outfit is gone. She wears the prim chiton of a scribe now, each fold perfectly arranged. She looks the image of a studious scholar and if not for that light in her eyes I’d be sure she had a twin she never told us about.
“How did the scouting go?” Calantha asks.
“Good. I found a route that should serve our purposes.” She turns to me and grins. “I hope you’re ready because it looks like Alix is going home.”
26
* * *
KARIS
Zara waits for us outside of our rooms the next morning, dressed again as a scribe. Dane stops when he sees her, his eyes widening. Zara grins back. Her gaze trails slowly down his body. “You clean up good, soldier boy.”
Unlike me and Alix, Dane was given a soldier’s uniform to wear. He tugs on his sash, not that it hadn’t been perfect before. “Thank you, Captain.”
“Not Captain today. Today, and today only, you can call me Zara.”
Dane’s eyes spark as a deep light comes into them. “Of course. Zara.”
I’m seriously debating stepping between them before something happens that I’ll regret watching when Zara turns on her heel to appraise Alix. He’s so wrapped up in his himation I can only make out the slight flicker of his eyes, from deep within the cloth. It’s a bit eerie.
“You’re going to have to be the most careful out there,” Zara says. “If anyone sees your eyes, we’ll be in a world of trouble. As far as anyone is concerned, you’re an incredibly shy student who keeps your eyes on your books.”
“My books?”
Zara pulls out a stack from her pack and thunks them into his arms. “Here you go.”
Alix picks up the first one and twists it to see the gold print stamped into its spine. “A study of automaton runes dating from the first century.”
“I remember stealing that book,” I say.
“Now,” Zara says, “there’s one last thing you all need to wear.”
She reaches into her pack and pulls out three Scriptorium bracelets.
I take a rapid step back. “No.”
Zara sighs. “Believe me, I know how horrible these things are. But they aren’t official bracelets. Rudy made them to hoodwink the gates around here. I promise no Scriptmaster will be able to track you with these and you can even take them off yourselves. There’s a hidden release here.” She demonstrates on her own.
I swore to myself I would never wear a bracelet like this again, even if I could take it off myself. But the only other option would be forcing Alix to do all this on his own. I might have made some questionable choices in my life, but I’m not about to do that.
I take the bracelet and snap it around my wrist. A seed of panic sprouts at its cool touch. I take a deep breath. We’ll be fine. I’m sure Rudy and Zara know what they’re doing.
Rudy and Zara had better know what they’re doing.
Dane reaches out and touches my shoulder. “Are you all right?”
“Getting there.” I glance at the other two, who’ve drifted off to ready the supplies, then back at Dane. “What about you?” No matter what I might be feeling, this is going to be rougher on him than on me. Sneaking through this city, dressed like a soldier but not one.
Dane runs his finger along the sash. “I used to dream about becoming a captain and going to a place like the City of Scholars.” He shakes his head, and something new enters his eyes. Not the carefree expression that had been there on Tallis. Not the uncertainty that’s been there ever since. Something more determined. “I’m glad, to find something to fight for. Something real this time.”
Dane is so different from me. He needs something to fight for, to believe in. It drives him. It’s always driven him. It’s how he settled so much more easily on Tallis than I did. And now it’s how he can give himself to this cause and make it sound so simple, while I still can’t seem to manage the same.
What do I believe in?
Awkward, I let my gaze drift around the room. Zara is in the corner securing a dagger to her belt.
“Something to fight for, or someone?” I ask, aiming for a light tone.
He rolls his eyes and knocks his elbow against mine.
“I’ll have none of that from you, thank you very much,” he says. But his eyes stay on her. I get a confused pang that he’s found something in her that I’ll probably never feel myself. Even though I don’t truly want it, in that moment a part of me envies him. Would normal be better? What is normal?
“I’m happy for you, Dane.”
He looks at me, a smile playing at his lips. “You know, you’ve changed. You’re softer now. In a good way.” He glances over at Alix. “I think he’s changed you.”
Those words catch me off guard. Dane doesn’t look like he’s joking.
Zara swings her pack onto her shoulders. “Come on. Let’s get going.”
Dane pats me on the shoulder and follows Zara as she heads out. Frowning, I trail after him. It’s true, I’ve never met someone like Alix. As sincere as he is. As trusting as he is. It makes me want to protect him, and I’ve never had someone to protect before. I’m not sure I want to change, though.
Zara leads us out of the villa toward the crest of the hill. From up ahead comes a swell of noise and we step past a row of prickly bushes onto a wide lane made of stone. A crush of bodies walks up the road and every single one of them is Scriptorium, dressed in chitons or longer robes, seals and sashes denoting their ranks. There must be more people walking up this one road than there were on all of Tallis.
Zara taps my chin, and I snap my gaping mouth closed.
“It’s called the Grand Thoroughfare.” Her voice is pitched low, but that can’t quite hide the laugh tucked into it. “And it leads all the way from the harbor to the Acropolis.”
The gate in the wall ahead of us is open, but traffic slows as it funnels to pass through. Two soldiers stand on either side. The man and woman lazily scan the passing crowd, spears idly clasped in their hands.
I finger my bracelet nervously. Zara wasn’t exaggerating before. This is perhaps the most dangerous place in the world for us to be, for Alix to be especially, and we’re just willingly walking into it.
Zara loops her arm through my own. “Talk to me,” she murmurs.
“About what?” I ask.
“The lovely day. The nice weather. The fine company we find ourselves in.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Fine isn’t the word I’d use.”
“Better than those dangerous pirates you’ve been hanging out with.”
“Have to say I prefer them to this lot.”
She flashes a grin at me. “It sounds like someone has been a bad influence on you.”
“Don’t let yourself take all the credit. I was the scourge of my masters back on Tallis. They were all... Karis.” I strike my best imitation of Master Vasilis. “Your thoughts are wandering. Go fall off that automaton over there.”
Zara bursts out laughing. “You fell off an automaton?”
“It was the Scriptmaster’s fault...mostly.”
She snorts.
I realize it feels strangely...right to be walking with her, arm in arm. I’ve never really had a female friend.
Are we friends?
We’re at the gates. I step forward and my bracelet flares with familiar heat ag
ainst my skin. I suck in a breath. But no alarm sounds. No one shouts. When I glance back at the soldiers, they’re still looking down the road at the approaching crowd.
On the other side of the wall, the city opens up into the agora. I remember the marketplace from Heretis. With so many bustling vendors and shoppers, it was one of the easiest spots in the city to slip a roll or piece of fruit into a belt pouch. Back then, I thought the large, spread-out agora must be the busiest place in the world.
It’s nothing like this.
The central area is lined with stalls, cloth canopies overhead to shelter from the already blazing sun. The stalls sell fruit and grains and salted fish, fabric and weapons and jewelry, clay bowls and pots and jugs. The smell of bread and smoke from a nearby kiln hangs in the air. There are stalls with Scriptorium wares: parchment and reed pens and leather-bound books. A tangled weave of hundreds of people fills the space, browsing the stalls or hurrying off to wherever they’re going. At the back there’s an amphitheater, wide steps cluttered with students.
“Where’s the Magistrate’s Library?” I ask Zara under my breath.
“Farther up. It’s in the Acropolis itself.”
Of course it is. The incline of the hill above us doesn’t let me see the Acropolis, but I can make out the Colossus. It towers over us, a malevolent guardian, its shadow splitting the agora into halves. Its bronze skin is wreathed in morning light, as if it’s trying to swallow the sun. It’s only now, when I’m so close to that behemoth, that I understand how our tiny island nation sent so many other countries to their knees.
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