“Even you…You have your place as a Major; so does Arina. You can make the vessel and summon the World. What do I have?”
“You still have us,” I counter.
“I know. But I can’t take your purpose or your place. And I want to fight. But I do better with someone to tell me who, what, where, and when to punch. Guess I’m simple like that.”
“I’ve always liked you simple.” I nudge his side.
We continue on in silence. I navigate our way through the now-familiar tunnels on half-remembered paths and then on instinct through well-worn territory. The air becomes fresher, carrying hints of the flowers that grow in the graveyard and the distant smell of the city.
The tunnel opens onto a wide storm drain that empties into anarrow ravine between the mountainside and a row of shops on Silver Street. The metal bars of the drain have long since rusted and fallen away. Their remnants cling like rotted teeth that we carefully step around. To our left, downward, is Rot Hollow. This outflow becomes a little river down there. I knew many who’d wash their clothes in it. To our right, upward, is the very edge of the city.
We both inhale the fresh air. Then I say, “We’ll wait a couple hours till dusk. I don’t want to be moving when it’s still so bright.”
Gregor nods and carefully settles Arina onto the ground. It hasn’t rained in a fair bit, so it’s dry where we stand. She stirs slightly at the movement, a soft sound escaping her lips that almost resembles my name. I jolt and hold my breath but exhale any hope of her waking when she settles back to her usual catatonic state.
We pass the time by attempting to throw pebbles up onto a slanted ledge. Most roll off. Then we talk about the first meal we want to eat once we’re settled in, how good a bath will feel, our favorite memories of the old club. We talk about everything but our obligations, and, for a moment, it all feels normal.
“Time to go,” I say as the sun creeps toward the horizon. Gregor stretches his arms and collects Arina.
We keep off the main road, staying close to the cliffs and old rockslides. It’s slower but makes us less noticeable…at least until we’re far enough from the city’s edge that I’m confident even if anyone saw us, it wouldn’t be with any detail.
I make my way toward the mausoleum as the last light fades from the sky. The door is still unlocked.Still.Like an invitation that Kaelis will never rescind. I fight a smile and lose.
“This was it all along?” Gregor whispers as we descend the now-familiar stairs. “The secret passage into the academy was just a door?”
“Mm-hmm,” I hum. The sea breeze hits me as we reach the interior of the bridge, where tiny slits—imperceptible from the outside—offer breaths of fresh air and just enough light to navigate by.
The moment my feet cross the threshold of the academy, I pause. Then I take another step. Stop again.I’m back.The realization feels likea physical blow. The one place I swore to my mother I’d never go, I now can’t seem to escape.
I don’t even want to. The thought hits me even harder.
Gregor pauses at my side.
“I’m fine,” I answer his unspoken question and force my feet to move. “This way.”
I guide him through the passages I know by heart, up stone stairs that sag under the weight of time, past rooms that I’m convinced are known only to me and the ghosts. Everything looks the same.
We pass Silas’s door, and I stop without meaning to. I hadn’t been consciously leading us here. But now that we are…My hand hovers over the knob for a breath before I push it open. The moment it opens, I instantly wish I hadn’t.
The room that had once been a beacon of warmth in this cold, dark fortress is nothing more than a husk of its former self. Bookshelves have been toppled, tomes scattered across the rug with its map of Oricalis and the worn paths where Silas had paced for hours on end. Pages are ripped from the bindings and scattered across the floor. Silas’s drawings have been torn from the walls, his artwork reduced to fragments.
“This was it?” Gregor asks quietly. “Where he lived?” He must recognize the artwork. Silas was always sketching at the townhome.
“Yeah…” Glass crunches under my feet as I cross to his desk, or what’s left of it. The drawers have been pulled and dumped, contents strewn across the floor.
I kneel, picking through the various sketches that are crumpled but otherwise intact and collecting a few. His family might want them. One such rendering catches my eye—it’s a room I recognize from when I was last recovering from my time in Halazar. A room deep in the academy that I used as a training area. It’s been rendered with surprising detail, accurate down to the desk I pushed under a window.
Except, on the desk in the picture is an envelope. I stare at the carefully drawn lines, inked slightly thicker than the rest, as if to emphasize them. My brow furrows. The ink is fresher. This letter was added later to the picture…
“Can we use this room?” Gregor asks, yanking me from my inspection.
“No.” I stand, carefully folding and pocketing the drawings I’ve collected. “Ravin knows of it. I wouldn’t risk it.”
That’s more than enough for Gregor to agree. We leave the ruins of Silas’s sanctuary behind, moving deeper into the academy. I’ve a few ideas for places—deep enough that no one would find it by accident, simple enough for Gregor to remember the path between the bridge and the room, and far enough from the wards of the workshop of the Fool that no uncomfortable magic lingers there.
I decide on a decrepit wing of apartments. If the fact that the door wouldn’t open without me putting my shoulder into it wasn’t enough of a tell that no one has been here in a long time, the thick layer of dust that covers everything certainly is.
Across from the door is a large hearth, soot-stained and dormant, with stately windows of stained glass flanking it, punching through the cliffs and overlooking the sea. Two couches in a tall style I’ve never seen before are on opposite sides of a low table, creating what would be a cozy sitting area. Two bedrooms are off to the left and right of the main room. Each bedroom with its own bathroom. Thankfully, the water still runs, even down here.
