Chapter 24
Starcrest Peak was slightly less opulent than Goldridge, its grandeur diluted by tighter rooms and more rustic decor, but Sebastian and Edmund still balked at the chandelier in the upper floor’s sitting room, the vibrant rugs thrown over the mahogany floors, and the floor-to-ceiling fireplace. There was a grand piano, too—Amaya’s.
She didn’t hear anything, but that didn’t necessarily mean the house was empty. They’d need to tread carefully.
“Damn,” Edmund breathed, tucking a lockpick relic back into his waistcoat. “What’s your regular house like?”
“It’s very nice,” Amaya whispered. She pointed down the longest hallway. “Master bedroom’s this way.”
The master suite was one of the largest rooms in the house, marked by floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the lake and a four-poster bed with curtains drawn around it.
Amaya entered through the double doors last, gingerly pulling them shut with a whisper-soft click.
When she turned around, Sebastian and Edmund were already scouring the room for clues.
“According to the blueprints, it should be this wall,” Edmund said, keeping his voice hushed. He ran his hand along the right wall, the one closest to the cliffside.
The one with a decidedly impressive wardrobe flush against it.
“Of course.” Amaya flew across the carpet on light feet and flung open the wardrobe. Instantly, her father’s scent—cedar and leather—hit her like a gust of wind, stinging her eyes and squeezing her heart.
They had to find something here, so she could see him again. They had to.
Amaya’s relationship with her father was far from perfect, but he was the only family she had. She couldn’t imagine her life without him.
She pushed the hanging suit jackets and waistcoats to either side, revealing a seam down the center of the back wall. It was discreet, but it was definitely there. Amaya ran her finger along it, her heart racing.
“I found it,” she said to Sebastian and Edmund. “Through the wardrobe.”
The two men joined her and examined the seam for themselves.
“That has to be it,” Edmund decided, after pointing out that the wardrobe was, in fact, built into the wall and immovable.
Why build it that way unless it was hiding something?
Clicking heels and a shrill voice interrupted her thoughts. “I’m checking the terrace!”
Amaya recognized the voice as belonging to Freya, one of the maids, and froze.
Checking the terrace. Checking the terrace, why?
Had they been seen? Heard?
Amaya, Sebastian, and Edmund exchanged wide-eyed stares, all three of them going still.
“Anyone there?” Rose hollered up the stairs.
“No, it’s empty! I—wait.” A pause. “Can you come up here?”
More heels echoed on the stairs, and then Freya was asking, “You don’t think it’s hers, do you? Amaya’s?”
Amaya frantically searched herself for anything she might have dropped. She had her necklace, Eagle Eye, both of her shoes . . . but her dress. Her abhorrent, traitorous dress. When she examined the torn layer of beaded chiffon, a sizable scrap was missing.
“Oh, shit,” Sebastian breathed, his nostrils flaring.
“Lieutenant Westbrook said she was reported as wearing light blue,” Rose said. “It’s probably hers.”
Amaya’s heart was already seconds away from exploding, but hearing Victor’s name nearly put her into cardiac arrest.
Someone had seen them. Reported them. And now Victor was on their trail, because of course he was the contact.
“It was the cab driver,” Sebastian said, growling. “I knew he was looking at you. I tried to pay him off.”
“A handful of extra gold is nothing compared to whatever reward my father is offering,” Amaya said.
Freya and Rose continued their conversation in the sitting room. “I’ll search the family wing,” Freya offered.
“I’ll search the guest wing,” Rose said.
Dammit.
“We need to hurry,” Amaya said, her voice low and urgent. “Come on, how do we get in?”
Sebastian stepped inside the wardrobe and began rifling through the clothes, running his hands across every interior surface.
Edmund examined the nearby wall, tugging on sconces in case one was a lever.
Amaya searched the birds and roses carved into the wardrobe’s exterior, tracing her fingers over the detailed images in search of a clue, a sign, anything.
Please, please, please.
“The seam goes all the way across the wardrobe floor and ceiling,” Sebastian whispered. “This thing definitely opens.”
Amaya continued examining the carvings, nothing making any sense until she realized with a start that she had something else with rose and bird motifs.
Her hand went to the neckline of her dress, pulling the Skystone locket out and over her head.
The two birds on the chain flying toward one another. The rose connector piece. They were identical to the carvings, as if designed by the same hand.
Because they had been designed by the same hand.
If this necklace once belonged to her great-grandmother Lucy, this house was built for her, and the library was meant to be her secret . . . wouldn’t it make sense that only she would have the key?
The gears in Amaya’s head spun as she scanned the wardrobe with fresh eyes, circling around it again and again until her eyes crossed. Finally, she spotted it: an irregularity in the right side panel.
There was an oval shape sunk into the wood with a single tiny rose above it. Above the rose were two birds flying toward each other, smaller than the rest.
Hands trembling, Amaya pressed the oval locket into the relief, then lined up the rose and the birds. It fit perfectly.
As soon as the locket snicked into place, the wardrobe shuddered. The wood groaned from disuse, having been frozen in place for decades. Behind it, gears grinded and squeaked. Slowly, the wardrobe split in half, revealing an open doorway that led to a dark alcove with a stone spiral staircase.
“Maker,” Edmund said, coming up beside Amaya. “Would you look at that?”
“Yeah, and it was loud,” Sebastian said, casting a nervous glance at the door. “Come on.”
Right on cue, footsteps tapped in the hall outside.
“Amaya?” Freya called. There was a brightness in her tone that indicated she’d heard something. “Are you in here? Do you need help?”
Amaya’s heart pounded as she picked the locket out of the panel and dashed into the alcove with her two companions.
“How do we close it?” Edmund asked, panic lifting his voice. “Bas!”
“I’m looking!” Sebastian pulled a small electric torch from his belt and lit it, illuminating the stone walls surrounding them.
“A lever!” Edmund said, pointing. He gripped it and pulled. “It’s stuck!”
Urgency speared Amaya’s chest. Cursing repeatedly under her breath, she joined Edmund in gripping the lever and pulling as hard as she could. It didn’t budge—not until Sebastian added his strength to their combined forces and tore through the rust.
The doors shuddered before beginning to close. Tossing his torch at Edmund, Sebastian took it upon himself to pull them together faster, the muscles in his shoulders straining his waistcoat as he pressed his palms against the wall and forced the panels back together.
The moment the entrance was sealed, they were plunged into darkness. And not a moment too soon. On the other side, Amaya heard the click of a door opening, followed by a muffled, “Miss Amaya?”
None of them moved.
“Amaya, is that you?”
Amaya held her hand over her mouth to quiet her heavy breathing, waiting until the click, click, click of Freya’s shoes faded back into silence.
“Fuck,” Sebastian exhaled. “That was too close. Give me that.” He took his torch from Edmund and swung it around, landing the light on the small stone staircase. “I’m going to need you two to work on your upper-body strength.”
They ascended the stairs together, Amaya gripping the handrail tight in case she tripped in the dark. The stairwell gave way to a cavern, but she couldn’t make anything out except an expanse of darkness.
“Could really use some more light,” Edmund said, squinting. The torch wasn’t enough. Sebastian skimmed the beam across the gray stone walls, landing on another, smaller lever.
“Here we go.”
“Wait, we don’t know the condition of those circuits!”
Sebastian ignored Edmund and pulled the lever anyway, illuminating over two dozen small lanterns strung from the high ceiling. A magnificent crystal chandelier hung in the center, throwing flecks of light around the room as it sparked to life.
“There,” Sebastian said. “See? It’s fine.”
Not all the lanterns lit, but enough of them did.
Now, sufficiently illuminated, the view took Amaya’s breath away.
They were on a balcony, with two grand staircases descending into a world of books.
Hundreds of shelves boasted thousands of tomes, stretching from the floor to the exceptionally high ceiling.
“Sweet Maker above,” Edmund said, taking off his glasses. Amaya shared his unmasked awe. All this had been hiding in her family’s lake house?
It was the most beautiful library she’d ever seen.
Everything appeared frozen in time; stacks of books that never got re-shelved lay open on tables.
Dried-up flowers rested in glass vases, their fallen petals forming withered circles on the tables.
The stone walls gave the library an organic majesty, especially when contrasted with the fine furniture and reading nooks scattered throughout.
But the main attraction was the far wall, where a colossal map was painted directly onto the stone.
It showed the whole of the Veridian Empire as it stood in Pearce’s time, showcased at an oblique angle with all ten sky cities painted above.
In the middle, directly over the Tamarix Desert, was a swirled blot of blue depicting the Aether Storm.
“Can I live here?” Edmund asked, gawking. “Do you know how long it would take to read all these? Even with Lightword, I could never . . .” He was already heading downstairs.