“Here,” Marina said, her voice soft.
Narra’s fingers closed on something soft and wet. She nearly recoiled, but stopped. Marina winced, withdrawing her ankle.
“You’re hurt,” Narra said. Her chest tightened.
“Scratches from the brambles, nothing more.” Her words hitched.
“I don’t see anyone,” a voice said. They had to be no less than a few feet away, right on the path.
Narra crept in further, finding the base of the tree. She turned, taking a seat against the base, leaning her head against the thick trunk. Pass , she commanded, closing her eyes against the black.
“They must have run off,” the other said.
She held her breath and stilled her heart. Soft leather touched her hand. Her eyes flashed open, but the dark was as absolute as the black behind her lids. Still, Narra searched. Warm breath hit her cheek. The pine needles shifted, just barely, and Marina’s shoulder bumped her own.
“Let’s go then.” The scrunch of pebbles receded the way they’d come.
When Narra could no longer hear their chatter, her breath whooshed from her lungs. Thank Srah they hadn’t been caught.
“They’re gone,” Marina stated .
Narra nodded before she realized Marina couldn’t see her either.
“Yes,” she agreed.
The princess didn’t move, and neither did she. Marina’s warmth sent the cold fleeing from her limbs. Sparks flew from her fingers to her shoulder. Marina leaned against her, her breath hot on Narra’s neck. Her mind raced and her heart pounded. What was Marina doing? Why was she so close?
“Should we go?”
Her lips parted, but the words stuck in her throat. Yes, they should go. The heat in her chest grew uncomfortable. She couldn’t stay. But she couldn’t think with Marina so near. Her limbs were wooden, frozen to her sides. She should move, flee to the safety of the road, where darkness couldn’t tempt her.
“Rheka?” Marina whispered.
Get a hold of yourself .
Narra snapped to her heels. “Yes, we should go,” she said. The pine skittered overhead as she pushed out from beneath the branches. She stopped to hold the pine needles back, and waited as Marina climbed out onto the grass.
Once they’d climbed over the brambles and onto the path, Narra started for the park entrance, her long legs taking the stone much faster than the princess.
“Rheka, wait!” Marina said, her breath fogging the air.
Narra stopped, avoiding Marina’s eyes. She kept her head forward, praying her hair would conceal the flush she was sure clung to her cheeks.
“Do you have a way home?” Narra asked. Her fingers clenched to fists. She took even breaths, trying to regain some sense of self, some sense of control .
“Yes. I have a steamwagon waiting,” she said.
Nodding, Narra continued through the small courtyard, past Willa’s statue and back to the main path. “I should be going. I have much to do.”
“Oh, of course.”
“How can I reach you? ”
Marina smiled. “I’ll find you.”
Narra glanced up, her jaw set. She didn’t like the sound of that, and from the devious glint in Marina’s eyes, she knew it. “Good night, Princess.”
Narra lengthened her stride, kicking up pebbles as she fled.
“Good night, Rheka.”
T he warm hearth spit embers into the chimney as Narra entered the bar. The lamps were dimmed, leaving long shadows across the oak tables and chairs. Though it was hardly dawn, murmurs rose in the kitchen. She steeled herself. Erik and Alden would have many questions. Many she didn’t want to answer, but must if Erik was going to help her.
Narra shut the front door. It creaked before clicking closed. Her heart leapt. Damn. She glanced at the swinging bar door. Did she want to speak with them both now? No. Did she have another choice? Also no. She sighed.
The kitchen door slammed open, cracking off the wood-panelled wall. Erik’s eyes widened and he froze. Dipping her hair forward wouldn’t hide her bruised cheek and eye, not from Erik.
“What in Srah’s name happened?” His boots beat against the floor as he flew to her side. His arms wrapped around her shoulders, squeezing tight. Narra patted his back gently as Alden joined them, an equally startled look on his face.
She hadn’t been gone that long.
“Nothing.” She stepped out of his warm embrace.
Alden approached more slowly, his lips pressed into a firm line as he inspected her face. Narra avoided his gaze, toying with the clips to her cloak. The purple bruise at her eyebrow throbbed.
“Liar.” Erik narrowed his eyes.
“Your wanted poster is all over the city,” Alden said. He embraced her quickly. He was cold like the morning air. Had he been out all night?
“I know,” she said. Her uncle was dressed, his hair tousled and wind whipped. He had been out all night.
“August said you went on a mission.” Erik crossed his arms over his chest. He knew all too well she hadn’t taken another mission. She’d gone to kill a man, and he wanted to know if she’d done it. Though he seemed unimpressed, his eyebrows cinched together. He was worried about her.
“I didn’t.”
The hardened lines of her best friend’s face softened. He nodded and took a breath, urging them out of the doorway. Alden ducked behind the bar, plucking three short glasses and a bottle of aged whiskey from the bottom shelf. Narra slipped onto a barstool while Erik turned up the oil lamps, dousing them in warm light. Erik joined her as she shifted to get comfortable on the hard wood.
“I think we could all use a drink,” Alden said. He placed two shots inside each glass before shoving them across the bar. He threw his back, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.
Narra twisted the cool glass in her hands, biting down on her lip. What should she tell them? She’d taken a ridiculous mission and gotten herself caught. Should she mention Marina or Asher? If she told them she’d been captured, she’d have no other choice. They’d already know she’d escaped execution—it said as much on her wanted poster.
She cursed Asher for putting her in such a position. If he hadn’t lied about the corporal’s murder, she’d have the sword, her money, and have nothing to do with the man.
She paused. Then again, she wouldn’t have met Marina, or experienced her warmth so close beneath the tree. Narra shook her head. She didn’t want to think about it, or what it might mean right now .
“Tell us what’s going on,” Erik said. His knuckles were white, wrapped around his glass. Narra worked her jaw. She had to tell them something.
“I went on a mission to the military barracks, to take the General of the Armies crowned sword,” she began. Erik sucked in a breath, his eyes wide. Narra tossed back the whiskey. It burned down her throat. She slammed the glass back down. “I wasn’t thinking. It was foolish.”
She told them the rest, detailing her mission, her capture, the interrogation, and hanging. When it came to her rescue, she paused. Narra swept her hair behind her ear. She told them of her encounter with Marina and the Revolution, keeping all personal feelings and her meeting in East Gardens with the princess a secret. They didn’t need to know how confused the princess made her.
“So that’s why August seemed so worried when he told me you came back,” Erik said, gazing off at the back of the bar thoughtfully. “He thought you were going to kill General Grayson.”
“I was,” she admitted.
“I’m glad you didn’t.” Alden sighed, shaking his head and pouring himself another drink. “The last thing the Guild needs is a million rovin bounty on a commander’s head.”
“Fifty-thousand is enough,” she agreed.
Erik smiled, though the warmth didn’t reach his eyes. “Most definitely.”
Narra nodded. Now she had to get down to business. “I need your help, Erik.”
Her friend quirked an eyebrow. “What is it?” He knew her well enough not to agree outright.
“I have to find someone.”
“This has something to do with your father, doesn’t it?”
Narra considered this. “Yes, and no.”
Erik smiled and shook his head. “Where to?”
“We’ll wait until after dark,” she said. “Then we’ll go to City Records.”
“A mission, huh?” He grinned. “I’m in. ”
Her lips twitched slightly. She squashed the smile, smoothing her face. It had been some time since they worked an actual mission together. Hopefully, the records had what she was looking for.
Three tall steeples rose into the starlit sky. The scent of smoke was still heavy on the air, threading its way through the streets of Rova City. Only a few blocks from the library was North Station. With the recent explosion, double the Patrolmen walked the streets.
Narra shivered and cursed whoever thought to destroy the train station. It had been more of a hassle than driving out to Drestel Ridge in sleet rain. She shook her head, and pulled her cloak tight around her shoulders as she scanned the street below.
The cobblestone was vacant of pedestrians, lit by gas lamps every ten yards. Two-story shop fronts lined the narrow road with steamwagons parked at Srah’s church several blocks away. Candles burned low beyond the second floor windows of the library. Someone was up late, but far from City Records, which lay in the northeast basement.
“Have you surveyed long enough?” Erik asked. His teeth chattered and he rubbed his biceps with his hands. The darkness did little to hide his red cheeks and nose.
“Yes,” she said. Narra stood on the flat gravel-packed roof of a parchment store directly across from Tallis Library, named after the grandfather of the current emperor. He’d been the first leader after the Century of Blood, erecting the first university and library in the empire.
She stepped to the edge of the roof. No Patrolmen in sight. Wielding her grappling hook, she aimed at a second-floor stone gargoyle with pointed teeth and small bat wings.
“Finally.” Erik heaved a sigh, his warm breath clouding the air.
She hit the release. The hook flung forward, propelled by a blast of compressed air. It hit its mark, circling the base of the gargoyle several times before the arms of the hook bit down. She tugged on the cord. It held strong.
“We’ll go in the second-story window on the west side away from the light.” Narra flexed her fingers, making sure her grip was good.
“Aye, aye, captain.” Erik grinned and clicked his heels together, giving her a sloppy salute. Narra rolled her eyes and leapt from the roof. Air embraced her on all sides, drowning out Erik’s laugh.
The current dragged at her clothes on every side, threatening to send her to the ground. She gritted her teeth, narrowing her eyes against the wind as she hit the retract button. The stone building came up fast, the gargoyle’s manic grin more apparent. Her heart raced. She removed her finger from the retract button. The current slowed, suspending her in midair for only a moment. Her feet touched down on the smooth stone wall.
Narra took a deep breath, wrapping the cord around her forearm as she yanked herself up, swinging a leg over the lip of the roof.
She stood, shadows embracing her on every side. As the long cord returned to the hand-held base, Erik flew next. Instead of hooking onto a gargoyle on the same level, he went for the floor above, sailing right to her small ledge with no effort at all. His boots hit the rim and he grinned through the darkness.
He parted his lips to speak, but she laid her gloved palm over his mouth. Not yet. Whoever was inside may be closer than they realized. He nodded, and she stepped back.
They skirted the rim of the second-floor, holding to the shadows until they reached a long row of glass-plated windows. There. Narra kneeled beside the row and peered inside.
Shadows lay heavy across the polished dark wood floors. Stacks upon stacks of books towered from all sides, some atop desks filled with parchment. She cracked the large window. It opened horizontally.
“Step back,” she whispered. Erik shuffled away, enough for her to back up and tilt the glass open. With only two feet of space to shimmy through, Narra went first. Her variety of daggers clicked against the frame as she slipped inside and onto a narrow stone ledge.
She stopped to listen. Not even the hum of a furnace broke the eerie silence. The dead air lay heavy on the library. It felt like a tomb.
Narra shook her head. Slipping from the ledge, she patrolled the room, looking again for any signs of life. There were none.
“Clear,” she murmured
Erik’s boots banged against the floor. She spun.
“Sorry.” He winced.
Narra narrowed her eyes and Erik grinned back sheepishly. She snuck to the large double doors of the wood-panelled room, placing her fingers against the brass handle. With her ear pressed to the door, she held her breath. Her heart beat loudly in her ears.
One beat. Nothing.
Two. Quiet rustling of parchment.
Three. A heavy sigh.
She stepped back and held her index finger over her lips. Whoever was inside the library was still awake. Erik’s mouth pressed into a firm, white line. He nodded. They’d have to be careful, and very quiet.
Working her way through the tables and chairs, Narra found the back entrance. Beyond the tall wooden door, a spiral staircase drowned in darkness. She smiled. They could use this to get to the first floor, maybe even the basement. She motioned for Erik to follow, then descended into the dark corridor. The door shut with a click. Black consumed the space. They’d have to feel their way to the first floor.
Narra went first, pulling a long black dagger from her sleeve, just in case. Her steps were silent against the wooden slabs as she spiralled down twenty feet to the first floor. She trailed her fingers along the banister to keep herself steady. Erik followed, his breath heavy in the dead air.
A few minutes later they left the void and entered the main floor. The spiral staircase didn’t lead to the basement, only the first floor. Streetlight streamed in from the tall first floor windows, illuminating stacks of nearly ceiling-high bookshelves. Wooden ladders attached to the stacks. Nearly fifteen years ago she’d slid along the bookcases with Erik, laughing as they collided. A smile ghosted her lips. She missed the carefree days they’d spent inside these hallowed halls.
She shook her head, dispelling the memories. She had to concentrate. A maze of shelving spread out on every side. She was thankful August had brought her to the library many times as a child. She knew the scent of paper and ink almost as well as the smell of oils she used to clean her daggers.
Narra led the way to the main corridor. Stone walls rose on every side, a long red rug spread from the front hall to that one. Even in the dim light of the few oil lamps left from the day, it was easy to follow the familiar passage. The wide hall gave them space in case of a fight, while the carpet muffled their footsteps.
It was as if the library had been made for thieves.
They arrived at a small back room. The brass handle shook, but didn’t give way. She quirked an eyebrow at the door.
“We’ll have to pick the lock,” she whispered.
Erik nodded and produced a set of fine metal instruments from his back pocket. He swept his cloak over his shoulders before kneeling in front of the door. Narra stepped away to give him space as he worked the thin metal inside the lock.
His lock picking skills only served to remind her of his place in the Guild. Though he could have been Claudia’s second, he chose the same life as her father—a thief-for-hire, only getting the scrap contracts the rest of the commanders didn’t want.
Several moments later, the lock clicked and the door swung in. Erik grinned.
“After you, miss.” He winked and motioned her inside, over-exaggerating his movements. Narra rolled her eyes and returned her dagger to its sheath, stepping inside the dark space. Only stale air greeted her.
“We’ll need a light,” she said.
Eri
k’s footsteps retreated. Narra waited in silence, her gaze roaming the black, but it was too deep. Her eyes couldn’t adjust to darkness this pure.
A small oil lamp bounced as Erik returned. Warm light spread inside the confined space. The red tapestry of the Rovan Imperial seal hung from the stone walls. A single staircase led into the earth. City Records. Perfect .
Erik led the way this time, his boots heavy against the oak stairs. She closed the door before following. She didn’t want whoever remained to know something was amiss. Narra followed slowly. Cold seeped through her cloak and clothes, layering her skin in goosebumps. She shivered and rubbed her arms.
“I’m surprised they don’t have the furnace running,” Erik said. His voice was soft, but not quite a whisper. “It’s freezing down here.”
Narra nodded, though from behind he’d never be able to see her. “Agreed.”
The small light of the lamp hardly lit the enormous space below the library. Rows of shelving held scrolls, rolled parchment, books, and other thick texts, which filled the space as far as the eye could see.
Did they have every record since the dawn of the empire in this basement?
She sighed. “I pray they have a filing system.”
Erik chuckled, shaking his head. “We’ll be down here until our deaths if they don’t.”
Narra grimaced at the thought.
"Let's start looking," Erik said.
Narra nodded. She spotted a large metal case with multiple drawers sitting next to rows upon rows of bookcases. Dozens of titles adorned each drawer, from information on the Century of Blood, to the dozens of emperors, military personnel, tactics, and more. Narra shook her head. She had no idea where to begin searching.
"Check that," Narra said. She waved in the direction of the cabinet.
Erik brought the small light with him, leaving Narra in shadows. She padded across the rough floor, bits of rock crushed beneath her boots. Damp hung in the air, sticking to her hair and clothes. She pulled her cloak tight.
Placards stuck out from each shelf. Some had bold, capital letters, while others had numbers on them. She tilted her head. What was she supposed to do? The northern rows used letters, while the western used numbers. Were they used for the organization system or just numbering off the hundreds of shelves?
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