"Guards?" Casteel breathed, barely daring to make a sound.
Nero pulled him closer, lips brushing Casteel's ear. "Can't tell. Could be servants."
They waited, pressed against the damp stone wall. The voices grew marginally clearer, though words remained indistinct. Two people, perhaps three, moving away rather than toward them.
"We should wait," Nero decided. "Give them time to clear the area."
Minutes stretched like eternity in the suffocating darkness. Casteel became acutely aware of Nero's proximity—the steady rhythm of his breathing, the warmth radiating from his body, the subtle scent of him that somehow cut through the mustiness of the passage. Their bond pulsed between them, stronger in the darkness where other senses were muted.
"I think it's clear," Casteel whispered finally. "The exit should be just ahead."
They continued forward until Casteel's outstretched hands met another wall. He felt along the rough surface, searching for the mechanism that would open the hidden door. His fingers found a small iron lever, rusted with disuse. They obviously hadn't bothered to disable this side.
"Here," he murmured. "Help me with this."
Together, they pulled the ancient lever downward. It resisted at first, then gave way with a protesting screech that seemed deafening in the confined space. They froze, listening for any reaction from beyond the passage.
Silence.
Slowly, a section of wall swung inward, revealing a sliver of dim light. Nero peered through the narrow opening, assessing the space beyond.
"Clear," he whispered, easing the door wider.
They emerged into a small alcove partially concealed by tall bookshelves. The library lay in darkness save for a single oil lamp burning on a distant table, its flame throwing long shadows across the dusty tomes.
Casteel oriented himself quickly. "This way," he murmured, leading Nero between the towering shelves. "The kitchen passage is behind the astronomy section."
They moved silently across the library floor, freezing at every creak of ancient wood beneath their feet. Casteel felt strangely light-headed—whether from the bonding, the tension, or simple hunger, he couldn't tell.
"There," Casteel whispered, pointing to an unassuming door partially hidden behind a shelf of star charts.
Just as they reached it, voices echoed from the main entrance. Nero pulled Casteel behind a massive bookcase, one hand pressed against his chest in a silent command to remain still. Footsteps approached—at least two people, moving with purpose rather than stealth.
"—must be prepared by dawn," came a familiar voice. High Priest Doran. "The announcement cannot wait. Send a guard to check on them."
Casteel's heart thumped so hard he could imagine it breaking his ribs. They had mere moments.
"The bonding may require time to stabilize," replied another voice he didn’t recognize, his tone measured but firm. "Rushing them before the connection settles could cause harm."
"The people need their savior now, not when it's convenient," Doran snapped. "The drought worsens. The eastern provinces report new cases of the blight. We cannot afford delays."
Their voices grew clearer as they moved deeper into the library. Casteel pressed closer to Nero, both barely breathing as the priests passed within arm's reach of their hiding place.
Their voices faded as they moved toward the far end of the library. Nero's eyes met Casteel's in the darkness, a silent message passing between them: we need to move, now. They didn't have time to forage for anything.
They slipped through the small door into another narrow passage, this one mercifully lit by small air shafts that allowed thin moonlight to filter through. The kitchen smells grew stronger—yeast, smoke, and the lingering aroma of the evening's meal.
"We need to go quickly," Nero murmured as they approached the passage's end. "With any luck, the kitchen will be empty now, even as we are nearing predawn."
The passage opened into a small pantry adjoining the main kitchen. Moonlight streamed through high windows, casting silver pools across stone floors and wooden worktables. The massive hearth still radiated residual warmth, though the fires had been banked for the night. A single kitchen boy slept on a pallet near the ovens, his soft snores the only sound.
"There," Casteel whispered, pointing to a row of cloth sacks hanging from hooks. "Those are used for market runs."
Nero shook his head. "No time. Just bread and we have water. We need to get out." Casteel filled two leather pouches while Nero discovered a drawer of kitchen knives, selecting two with practical, sturdy blades.
"Servants' clothing?" Nero murmured, glancing at the sleeping boy.
Casteel shook his head. "Laundry room, one level down. But there's a faster way." He moved to a large cupboard and opened it carefully, revealing neatly folded stacks of simple garments. "Cook keeps spares for her kitchen boys."
