45. Lora
Lora
The steady thump of hooves on the gravelly road faded into something almost hypnotic.
The entire day crawled by before we finally emerged from the forest and a mountain rose before us.
The city nestled at its base, its towering stone wall glowing in the golden light from the setting sun.
Crisp mountain winds wrapped around us, nothing like the balmy air of home.
The majestic gates stood wide open, welcoming traffic streaming into the capital. People bustled past in every direction as we entered. Voices mingled with the clatter of carts and the distant ring of metal on metal.
Our driver dropped us off on the main street before veering down a side road with a wave.
Erion shifted beside me, uncertainty flickering across his features. “Now what?”
I marched ahead, angling toward an open plaza churning with market stalls and moving bodies. “Let’s start by asking around.”
Weaving between clusters of shoppers, I approached the nearest merchant, a woman arranging copper pots on a wooden table.
“Excuse me, ma’am. Can you point me toward the Forbidden Archives?”
She peered at me, tilting her head. “Whatever for? Plotting to steal something, are you?”
“No!” My voice came out far too bright.
A sharp laugh burst from her. “Of course not.” Leaning forward, she jabbed a finger at me. “You listen to me and stay away from that place. Whatever you think you need from there isn’t worth the trouble.”
“Sure,” I managed through clenched teeth. “But could you just tell me where it is?”
“Afraid not.” She smirked. “Plenty of buildings are rumored to be the Forbidden Archives. Some say it’s in the palace, others that it’s in some abandoned warehouse. Could be anywhere. Or maybe it doesn’t even exist?” She barked a laugh.
Annoyance flared through me.
“Thank you,” Erion said, offering the woman an exaggerated smile as he pulled me away.
He leaned close, hissing under his breath. “I don’t think flaunting our plans like that is a good idea.”
“I didn’t flaunt anything,” I scoffed. “She made her own assumptions.”
Glancing over my shoulder, I caught a glimpse of the woman through the crowd. She leaned over to the merchant in the next stall, jabbing a finger in our direction. Likely gossiping about two morons trying to break into the Forbidden Archives.
Ebbs and darkness, Erion was right. But how would we find the place if we couldn’t ask about it?
“The damage is already done,” I said, yanking free of his grip. “We might as well make the most of it.”
Ignoring his sputtering protests, I headed toward another stall where a wiry man arranged leather belts across a plank.
I forced a smile. “You don’t happen to know anything about the Forbidden Archives?” I leaned forward with a conspiratorial wink. “Asking out of pure curiosity.”
The man frowned and launched into the same warnings about staying away, but I pried one useful detail from him—he was convinced the Forbidden Archives sat in the eastern part of town.
Another merchant swore it was located next to a cliffside. Not exactly helpful, given that the entire city clung to a mountainside, but it narrowed our search to the outermost rim.
The next candlemark bled away as I drifted from stall to stall, piecing together scraps of information. Erion trailed beside me, tension coiling tighter with each conversation.
Every merchant offered fragments, some contradictory, others oddly specific. One claimed the Archives sat near a fountain. Another swore it lurked behind an unassuming storefront. A third insisted it occupied an abandoned forge.
Through the chaos, a pattern emerged.
Erion sighed. “Lora, please, this is useless. Let’s find an inn and rethink our strategy.”
“What? No!” I dragged him away from the crowded plaza. “Haven’t you been listening? The Forbidden Archives is likely hidden in plain sight, tucked into an unremarkable building somewhere on the eastern edge of the city, right at the cliff’s edge.”
Erion scratched his neck, gaze bouncing between me and the plaza. “Um… Don’t you think—”
His words died as a man stepped in front of us.
An easy grin spread across his face, framed by golden-brown locks reaching just below his ears. His willowy build and expressive eyes gave him an air of harmless curiosity.
My instincts instantly flared in warning.
“Well, hello there.” His grin widened, flashing a chipped front tooth. “Couldn’t help overhearing you’re looking for the Forbidden Archives.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What’s it to you?”
He lowered his voice to a theatrical whisper. “Funny thing—I have something of mine in there and I’d like it back.” He straightened, spreading his arms wide. “Maybe we should team up? Safety in numbers and all that.”
My fingers twitched toward the water skin at my belt. A stranger offering help out of nowhere didn’t sit right.
Jaw tight, I glared at him. “Who are you?”
“The name’s Kestrel.” He swept into an exaggerated bow. “At your service.”
By the deep, maybe Erion had been right. My carelessness had seeped across the plaza like brine, and this stranger had filtered out the salt.
Watching Corin die by the hands of my mother’s murderer had knocked me off balance, left me stumbling without my usual carefulness. I had to take charge of the situation.
Crossing my arms, I studied the stranger. “What exactly do you want from the Forbidden Archives?”
“Good question! I could ask you the same. But here’s a suggestion…” He raised a finger. “If you don’t pry into my business, I won’t pry into yours.” He rocked back on his heels, spreading his hands in an innocent gesture. “Fair trade, yeah?”
My teeth ground together, but he had a point. I had no intention of telling anyone about our interest in the sun stones. “And what would we gain from teaming up with you?”
Kestrel’s eyes glittered. “Firstly, I know where the Forbidden Archives are—which, I’ve gathered, you don’t. And secondly, I happen to know a secret passage inside.”
I arched a brow. “Then why aren’t you using it yourself? What do you need us for?”
“Ah, yes.” He rubbed his hands together. “Here’s the catch. The door only opens to a sun wielder. Which, unfortunately, I am not. But I’m hoping one of you are?” His grin flashed wider.
My gaze slid to Erion. Frowning, he gave me an almost imperceptible shake of his head.
Defeat dragged at my shoulders. I grabbed his sleeve and pulled him a few paces down the street.
“Come on, Erion,” I hissed. “This might be our best shot.”
He leaned in, lowering his voice. “We shouldn’t trust a stranger like this. What if it’s a trap?”
“Set by who?”
“I don’t know. The sun guard? The pirates? What if he leads us to a dark alley for an ambush? Lora, please, we should find an inn and think this through.”
Biting my lip, I sighed. He was right. But time was running out. We had to get the stone and return to Blightlands in less than two weeks. My insides itched at the thought of spending another night just planning, discussing, doing nothing productive.
I glanced at the cheerful stranger.
“I have another idea,” I murmured, turning back to Erion. “Instead of letting him take us somewhere, we lead the way.”
“But we don’t know where the Archives are.”
“We can ask him where they are, and then we choose the path.”
Skepticism flickered across his face.
I grabbed his arms. “Just trust me, Erion. Please?”
He tensed beneath my touch. “You know I do.”
Smirking, I slipped my arm under his and dragged him back. Kestrel’s face lit up as we approached.
Eyes narrowed, I met his gaze. “We’ll agree on one condition. Tell us everything you know about the Forbidden Archives and where it’s located.”
He barked a laugh. “Love that! How about we grab some food first?” He pointed toward a stall serving flatbreads folded around meat and roasted vegetables.
Erion shrugged, and I had to admit, it wasn’t a bad idea. We’d only had meager snacks during our ride. Besides, if the stranger planned an ambush, he’d want to get us there quickly, not linger over food.
After ordering and settling on a set of stairs overlooking the plaza, Kestrel launched into a stream of chatter. Details about the Forbidden Archives spilled from his mouth like water from a broken dam.
“It’s a tall building, taller than the surrounding structures, more imposing. Sits right next to a steep cliffside on the eastern side of the city.”
I perked up as his description matched what I’d pieced together from the merchants.
After a large bite, he continued, speaking around his food. “Inside, there’s a vaulted door, a massive thing according to my source, and we’ll need to figure out how to crack it open.”
I studied him. “Who’s your source?”
He grinned. “You don’t really expect me to reveal that, do you? But I can assure you, it’s someone very reliable.”
I shot him a withering look.
“Anyways…” He gestured with one hand, the other busy holding the flatbread. “He told me about a secret passage leading to a backdoor that only opens with sun wielding.”
Erion wiped his mouth. “Why would a secret door to a guarded place open to anyone with sun magic?”
“It’s a cargo entrance into a supply room. There’s a hidden key inside that opens another door leading into the actual Archives.”
I raised a skeptical brow. “And your source told you exactly where to find this key?”
“Yep!”
I glanced at Erion who offered the tiniest shrug.
Popping the last piece of flatbread into my mouth, I brushed the crumbs from my dress and stood. “All right. Let’s go. But I’m leading the way.”
“That’s the spirit!” Kestrel beamed, bouncing to his feet.
We threaded toward the eastern district, away from the bustling center. Instead of heading straight east, I led us in a wide arc along the inside of the city wall.
Kestrel kept up a constant stream of commentary about the city, spilling random bits of information about its buildings and inhabitants, things he found beautiful or fascinating.
“And did you know the wall was built over five hundred years ago, before the—wait…” He stopped short. “This is it!”