Chapter 17 #2
They continued their exchange, blades locked, breathless and flushed, before Ferrula dropped back and laughed. “You’re getting faster, ox.”
“And you’re still cheating,” Jax muttered, half-smiling as he wiped sweat from his brow. His admiration for his opponent evident.
Just then, Cordelle returned quietly, slipping back into our circle.
But I saw it.
The slight bulge beneath his armor, where something had definitely not been there before. Something hidden, flat and tucked against his chest.
“What is it?” I whispered.
Cordelle stood near the edge of the ring, shifting his weight like he was trying to decide if he should speak at all. His eyes flicked to Zander, who was watching Ferrula and Jax with his arms crossed, then back to me.
“I need to tell you something,” he said, voice low enough only I could hear.
Naia stepped closer, sensing the shift in energy.
“My father lent me a book,” Cordelle continued. “A fae text. Pre-Unification. I have to return it tomorrow.”
I raised a brow. “Your father lent you forbidden fae history?”
He winced. “I’m not sure he’s supposed to have access to it either.”
“What’s in it?” Naia asked, voice hushed.
“I didn’t have time to read the full thing,” Cordelle admitted, “but my father gave me the finer points. It mentions… a map.”
My pulse kicked up. “A map?”
He nodded. “Of the Fae Isle before it fell to the Dark. It was part of the Light Court’s recorded geography. The sanctuary, if it still exists, would have been their center of power.”
“You think this map will help us pinpoint the sanctuary?” I asked, trying to temper the hope creeping into my voice.
“With more research… yes,” he said. “It gives structure. A place to start. There were names of regions, old settlements, and even shrine locations.”
I stepped closer. “Where’s the map now?”
Cordelle hesitated.
And then, with a glance toward Zander and a sigh, he said it—
“…In the vault.”
Of course it was.
Because nothing we needed ever came easy.
Across the training ring, I caught Remy’s eye. The others were still distracted by the sparring match, and Zander was half watching Ferrula deliver a wicked elbow to Jax’s ribs, half brooding.
I waited until Remy’s attention sharpened, then lifted my hands, careful, quick.
I need your help, I signed in the Order’s old hand-code, the one we weren’t supposed to use anymore.
Remy didn’t flinch. His expression didn’t change at all as he signed back, To do what?
Break into the vault.
His brow lifted just slightly, like I’d offered him dessert after a long fast. No problem. When?
As soon as possible, I replied. I need a map.
That was all I said. But he stepped toward me, calm as ever, and his hands flicked one last response.
I don’t care what you need. I’ll always help you.
Then, with the kind of practiced arrogance only he could wear like a second skin, Remy strolled over to Zander, stopping just shy of his shoulder.
“The king ordered me to bring Ashlyn for a… visit,” he said, voice low but carrying. “Should I take her to Theron instead?”
Zander swore under his breath. “No. Follow the order. But if he shows any signs of instability, bring her right back.”
Remy nodded. “Understood.”
He turned to me. “Come with me, Prospect Rebec.”
I rolled my eyes at the use of my old false name. Smart, I signed as we walked.
Did the king really ask for me?
No, Remy signed back, his mouth twitching. But nobody will know that.
We entered the castle like we belonged there, walking past the guards, through the familiar halls of stone and banners. My heart beat faster the closer we got.
When we reached the corridor outside the vault, I hesitated. “Are we going to just walk right in?”
“Of course,” Remy said, completely casual. “I have access.”
I nearly choked. “You what?”
We approached the vault doors. Two guards stood at attention. Remy didn’t break stride.
“The king asked me to retrieve a map,” he said smoothly. “I’ll only be a moment.”
The guards glanced at each other, then nodded.
Remy pressed the symbols in sequence to unlock the door.
We entered the vault, shadows flickering against ancient stone, and the door closed behind us.
I turned to him, heart pounding. “Remy, why do you have access to the king’s vault?”
He looked at me with that maddening half-smile.
“Because the king trusts his weapons,” he said. “And I was his sharpest blade.”
The vault smelled of ancient ink and dry parchment, the scent of secrets too long buried. Rows of leather-bound tomes and rolled maps were stacked in precise columns, all carefully labeled in the elegant, sharp script used by the royal archivists.
Remy moved with uncanny familiarity, brushing his fingers along a rack of scrolls until he plucked one from the middle without hesitation. “Start here,” he murmured.
I nodded and joined him, unrolling each scroll across the long obsidian table in the center of the chamber. Candlelight flickered over aged vellum and faded fae markings. Some were indecipherable, others I recognized from Cordelle’s notes. Ancient borderlines. Pre-Fall divisions of power.
Then I saw it.
A delicate, gold-inked rendering of the isle as it had been before the corruption. The sigils of the Light Courts circled a central, gleaming symbol, one I didn’t recognize, but somehow knew.
The Sanctuary.
“This is it,” I breathed, already folding the parchment with trembling fingers.
I slid the map under my armor, tucking it into the hidden inner pocket. The paper was cool against my skin, but it felt like fire in my blood.
Remy snatched another scroll, wider and less detailed, but easier to pass off if questioned, and rolled it tightly in his hands. “Let’s go.”
But as we turned toward the door, a ripple passed through my chest. A faint pulse like dragon fire curling behind my ribs.
Then—
A whisper.
Low. Unmistakable.
Zander’s voice.
Where are you, Ashlyn?
My breath caught, heart skipping as the sound slipped like silk through my mind.