Page 95 of Zenith Tower

His voice was rough, and the effort of using it left him short of breath. I put my fingers against his wrist. His pulseran too quickly beneath chilled skin, but the completed bond between us held steady.

Relief struck hard enough to make my hand shake.

Kieran’s gaze dropped to it. The humor left his face.

“Astra.”

“You’re sitting half-dressed in a locked room with measurement marks all over you.”

“I’ve been better.”

Caspian took the folded blanket from the foot of the cot and wrapped it around Kieran’s shoulders. “What did they give you?”

Kieran glanced at the cup. “Something bitter. My legs stopped listening afterward.”

“Are they listening now?”

“Some.”

Caspian crouched at his left side while I moved to his right.

“Put your arms around us,” I said.

Kieran obeyed without argument. That frightened me more than the shaking.

We brought him upright. His knees folded almost at once, and his full weight dragged against my shoulder before Caspian caught him around the waist. Green-gold pain flashed through the bond and vanished behind a wall Kieran threw up too late.

“Don’t do that,” I said.

“Do what?”

“Hide it from me.”

He leaned his head briefly against mine. “Later.”

Behind us, iron struck wood in the records annex.

Hale appeared in the doorway. Copper light ran over the back of his hand, bright enough to show the swelling beneath his sleeve.

“Marrow has one wrist free,” he said. “We need to move.”

The administrator’s map marked a service passage behindthe records wall. Its entrance lay opposite the annex, disguised by three shallow shelves mounted together inside a recess. Marrow had worked free of the shelving and begun driving his shoulder against the annex door hard enough to shake dust from the frame.

Hale took Kieran’s weight from me. His injured arm tightened across Kieran’s back, and pain sharpened his face before he forced it smooth.

“Your arm,” I said.

“Still works.”

“That isn’t what I said.”

“I know.” He shifted Kieran higher. “Open the passage.”

Caspian found the recessed handle beneath the lowest shelf and pulled. The shelves swung away from the wall as a single narrow frame, exposing a keyway. He fitted Marrow’s key into it. The key turned once and stopped.

“Lift as you turn,” Hale said. “The lower hinge has dropped.”

Caspian braced one hand beneath the latch and pulled upward. The swollen wood scraped over stone, opening onto darkness and the cool rush of moving air.