Between Smoke and Shadow

25. Rune

TWENTY-FIVE

RUNE

I don’t know why Harrick left this book in my quarters. It must have been why he was here last night, and yet, he didn’t mention it while we were together. We’d gotten distracted, but it still doesn’t make sense.

What do you know, Harrick ?

I absently touch my lips. Even thinking of him makes my skin tingle. I told myself I needed him to kiss me, that it was the only way to keep him from questioning where I’d been last night. I wasn’t sure I could keep myself from confessing everything, from demanding to know what the Architect planned with all that excess magic—and whether he was in on it.

It was all too easy to steer him off course–but it was harder than I imagined to keep myself on mine. Far too soon, I was leaning into him, kissing him, devouring him as much as he was devouring me.

And now, flipping through the chapters of this Illia’s Tome , I feel a pang of guilt. He may have left this as a gift, as a show of trust, and I just used his lust against him. I squint at the crisp pages. Most of this is too advanced for me to understand. Luckily, the maps are easy. It only takes a few minutes to figure out what’s being depicted: the Reaping Grounds, the Pit, the City of Mirrors. Each section breaks further into featured buildings, major landscapes, and divided property lines. For the Tower, that means a map of the main sections and noteworthy locations within each.

Without Viana to serve—and until I’m reassigned elsewhere—I have the luxury of wasting time. I’ve spent all morning memorizing the military section and certain levels within it. There’s nothing to indicate the lift Vale and I used, and of course, there’s nothing in the book that references the magic at all.

I think back to Caleah. She’d found hints of this last season, and though I doubt even she knew how much magic we’d find, she was still right. I hope she’s alive so I can tell her. It’s foolish to even hope for it, but I resolve to ask Harrick the next time we’re together. If anyone can find out for me, it’s him.

For now, I study the maps, memorizing weak points and potential exits. I look through the pages until the lines start to blur and I can’t make sense of them anymore. I doubt Harrick will take back the book anytime soon, but it’s a risk I can’t take. With my breath held tight, I rip out two pages. The first, a broad map of the Tower. The second, a detailed series of military floors.

I force myself not to dwell on the potential consequences. Instead, I consider all the possible rewards.

Two nights later, I wait in a pantry closet for Vale. I sit cross-legged on the floor, back propped against a stiff bag of flour, and attempt to clean the permanent layer of dirt under my fingernails. I came down here early, and I’ve been alone with my thoughts for too long. It’s not Vale I’m thinking of though. I haven’t seen Harrick since we kissed in my quarters, and despite logical explanations, I’m feeling anxious about it.

Is he planning to frame me with that book?

Is this all an elaborate trap?

Is he mad at me? Disappointed?

Does he notice the dirt under my nails?

The door opens while I’m still obsessing over my insecurities. It’s too dark to see anything, but I can tell it’s Vale from the way he breathes. He shuffles through the room, bumping into the far shelf as he finds a place to sit.

“What do you have for me?” he asks. He sounds even more stressed than usual.

“A map,” I say. I twist my hands together. “Two, actually. From a copy of Illia’s Tome . The Tower as a whole, then a few floors of the military section.”

“Good,” he says. Then, “Where did you find it?”

“It was one of Viana’s books,” I say. A moment too late, I realize it’s a bad excuse. I don’t work for Viana anymore, and Vale likely knows that. I chew on my tongue, bracing for him to call me out.

“Escape routes?” he asks instead.

“A few options,” I say, releasing a tight breath. “It’ll depend on the plan though. How many people, whether we’re carrying anything, or if we try to save Caleah.”

“Caleah is dead,” Vale says. His voice is matter-of-fact, but it doesn’t stop the sting of his words. I flinch away from him, as if trying to dodge the truth.

I guess I don’t need to ask Harrick after all.

“Oh,” I say finally. My stomach roils, and I have to resist curling over myself. “I didn’t know.”

There’s a long pause.

“It is what it is,” Vale says. His voice wavers slightly, the only indication that he cares. He clears his throat, as if forcing the emotion from it. “We’ll want to find an exit near the bunker. We’re going to take as much magic with us as we can.”

“That won’t be much if I’m the only one carrying it.”

“We’ll figure something out,” Vale says. “Who knows, maybe some of the others will be able to carry it too.”

I debate telling him to give up on that hope now, but for some reason, I can’t. I’m too afraid to admit the truth, even to Vale.

“Even if they can’t,” he says, as if sensing my concern. “We’ll figure something out. I’m having Alven look into it.”

“All right,” I say. After a short pause, I ask, “Why is Alven helping us anyway?”

It’s something I’ve been meaning to ask. He said he was only offering limited help, but when it was clear I couldn’t navigate the City alone, he immediately volunteered. He might not want to risk his neck, but he certainly proved he’s willing to.

“He’s an elite, right? What’s he doing working against the Architect?”

“We aren’t the only ones who suffer from the crown,” Vale says. His voice is heavy, almost resigned. “That family takes from everyone , not just the servants, Rune. Savoa will never know peace with descendants destroying everything they touch. And once we can figure out how to use the magic ourselves, we won’t need them here at all. We can kill them, every last one, and finally build the world we deserve.”

I swallow, but I don’t say anything. A vicious cold flares through my body as I imagine someone hurting Harrick. After everything he’s done for me, I know I could never hurt him. It’s more now, though. I can’t let anyone else hurt him either.

“The crown we live to serve—they want to destroy us. But we will destroy them first,” Vale says. He squeezes my fingers. “Together.”

If he notices I don’t join in on the final word, he doesn’t say anything. He asks a few more questions about the maps, and I give him the pages I ripped from the book. The whole time, my heart pounds and my mind whirls at a nauseating speed.

Can Vale feel the hesitation and guilt building within me? I’ve always wanted to escape this Tower—and I still do—but if it means Harrick eventually has to die, I’m not sure I can .