45. Lora #2
An abandoned square surrounded us, lined with sagging houses. A fountain murmured at the center, water spilling from the mouth of a carved stone drake crusted with age. The basin filmed with algae, but the water still burbled stubbornly.
Kestrel prowled around the base, running his hands along the weathered surface, patting and prodding stones.
Frowning, I stepped closer. “What are you looking for?”
“I’ll know it when I find it.”
My jaw clenched. “You have no idea what you’re doing, do you?”
He straightened, throwing me an indignant look.
“I have plenty of ideas what I’m doing.” He stepped onto the fountain’s rim and stretched over the water, grabbing the drake’s snout.
“In fact, I have more ideas than most people! I even—” His hand slipped on the slick stone and he plunged face-first into the fountain, water splashing up around him.
Beside me, Erion pressed a fist against his mouth, stifling a laugh.
Kestrel scrambled upright, water streaming from his clothes and hair, an angry flush blooming on his cheeks. He trudged one step toward us through the water and a metallic click sounded beneath him.
Then another—behind me. I spun toward the outer wall, where a hidden hatch no taller than my knee swung open, revealing a dark tunnel. Cold wind whistled through the gap.
“Aha!” Kestrel’s face split into a triumphant grin. “I knew it!”
He sloshed out of the fountain and marched past us, droplets spraying from his soaked clothes and spattering my arms with cold water.
I couldn’t decide what to make of him. He’d obviously stumbled onto the mechanism by accident, but he’d been right about the door’s existence.
He dropped to his hands and knees and crawled through the opening.
Erion and I exchanged a glance before following through the narrow passage. My breath caught as my head emerged on the other side. The sea stretched far below, attacking the cliffside in foaming explosions. Wind whipped at my hair, tugging strands loose from my braid.
I’d seen the sea before while visiting relatives along the coast near Rootmere, but never from this height. It was beautiful and terrifying all at once. The vastness stripped all logic from my mind, leaving only the pounding of my heart and the roar of wind in my ears.
Kestrel stood on a ledge barely wider than my hips, carved out along the wall. My boots scraped against stone as I pushed upright and pressed my spine flat against the wall beside him. Rough rock bit into my back, grounding me against the dizzying drop.
Erion shuffled onto the ledge behind me, chest heaving. “What in the turning tides is this?” He had to shout for the words to carry over the wind.
Kestrel flashed a grin and shuffled forward, arms spread wide against the wall for balance. “Come on! This path leads to the hidden entrance.”
“I don’t like this,” Erion moaned.
I forced cheer into my voice. “We’ve come this far. We can’t turn back now.”
Pressing my palms against the rough stone, I slid sideways, one foot at a time. Behind me, Erion’s shuffled along.
The ledge curved around the wall until we reached a docking platform for skyships, large enough for all three of us to move freely. An obsidian door sat sunken into the stone wall beneath an impressive archway.
Kestrel bounced on his feet. “This is it! Now use your sun magic.” He gestured at the door like he was presenting a prize.
“Which kind?” Erion’s voice quivered. “Heat? Fire? Light?”
“I don’t know. Any kind?”
Grumbling, Erion raised his hands, fingers curling. A small flame flickered to life between his palms. He pushed it against the door until it licked the gleaming black surface.
The door swung open.
Kestrel clapped his hands and stepped inside. “It worked! I knew it!”
For someone who knew it would work, he sounded a little too astonished for my liking.
As we followed him inside, I exchanged a wary look with Erion. I’d convinced him to trust me, practically forced him along. This had to work.
The space opened into a cavernous supply room. The roar of the wind vanished as the door closed behind us, replaced by a heavy quiet. Neat rows of stacked crates lined the walls, stamped with sigils and markings. At the far end loomed a smaller obsidian door.
Kestrel moved along the crates with eager urgency, studying the wall behind them. He shifted a few crates aside and stepped between them, fingers tracing the stone surface.
“Aha!” With a triumphant grin, he plucked a small object, shaped like a coin, but etched with markings I didn’t recognize.
He strode toward the inner door. “Now, all I have to do is place it against the—”
The moment the coin connected with the door, a loud blare erupted through the room.
My heart slammed against my ribs. “What is that?”
Kestrel’s voice turned shrill. “Sounds an awful lot like an alarm.”
I darted toward the outer door. Locked. I slammed my shoulder into it, but it didn’t budge. “Erion, quick, use your sun magic!”
He was already beside me, flames flickering between his fingers as he pressed them against the obsidian surface.
Nothing happened.
Rage flooded through me as I rounded on Kestrel. “You were supposed to open the door! Not sound the sodden alarm!”
“My source told me this coin would open it.” He stared at the gleaming object as if it had personally betrayed him.
My nails dug into my palms. “Your source doesn’t seem very trustworthy.”
“I thought he was.” Kestrel’s voice dropped to a whimper. “He used to work in the Forbidden Archives.”
“Used to?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, voice quieting. “He was a fellow inmate at Gravendale Keep.”
“Inmate? You met him in prison?” My fingers twitched, itching to close around his throat. “Did it ever occur to you that if a former employee ended up in prison, they’d change the security around here?”
“Well, did it ever occur to you…” He raised his finger as if to argue, then lowered it again. “Actually, that’s a good point.”
Before I could lunge at him to gouge his eyes out, the inner door swung open. Boots thudded against floorboards as guards flooded the storage room.
A sturdy woman with a sergeant’s insignia stepped forward, voice cutting through the noise like a blade. “Don’t move. We have you surrounded.”
My jaw clenched hard enough to ache.
I caught Erion’s panicked gaze and gave a sharp shake of my head. Rage burned beneath my ribs, begging to be unleashed, but we couldn’t fight back. Too many guards. Not enough nearby water sources.
Besides, I didn’t want to reveal my moon powers anyway. Better to let them assume they’d caught some common criminals than discover a moon wielder had infiltrated their capital.
Rough hands seized my wrists, wrenching them behind my back. Coarse rope bit into my skin.
“Not again…” Kestrel moaned as the guards bound him.
The sergeant clicked her tongue, eyes sweeping over us. “Bold of you, trying to sneak into the Forbidden Archives.” Her gaze landed on each of us. “Which one of you is the wielder?”
Of course she knew the outer door required sun magic.
Erion’s throat bobbed, his mouth opening.
“It’s me,” I cut in before he could speak.
The sergeant raked her gaze over me. “Perhaps.” Her lips curved into something cruel. “But for all I know, all three of you could be wielders.” She gestured at her guards. “Take them to Gravendale Keep.”
“No.” Kestrel barely breathed the word. “Not the Keep. Not again!”
The sergeant scoffed. “You should have thought of that before breaking into the Forbidden Archives.”
Fury boiled in my veins, aimed squarely at myself and my desperate need for a quick solution. And for what? So I could rush off and exact vengeance on the man who murdered my mother? I’d acted without thinking, and now Erion paid the price.
The guards prodded us forward, leading us through a dimly lit corridor.
“Please!” Kestrel wailed. “Just throw me off the cliff instead! I can’t go back to that blaze-wretched abyss!”
Groaning, I ground my teeth. What a sodden fool I was for ever trusting this silt-waste of a man.