Page 49 of Seas the Reckoning

I make my way upstairs, choosing another hall. There’s a few doors on this one. The first opens to nothing more than a broom closet, with a few cleaning items and spare linens tucked inside. I close it and stare at the others, trying to choose.

The din following Never’s disembodied announcement and subsequent panic has decreased downstairs. I could be running out of time. I’m looking at the doors, weighing my options, when I notice one of them has extra wood trim around it. Dead center at the top of that door is a small, carved symbol inlaid into the trim.

It’s very familiar and, given the information I learned tonight, makes no sense at all.

My breath hitches, air refusing to make its way into my lungs. My gills even start to transform, sensing I need oxygen and I’m not getting it.

“Not suffocating. Just … feel like I’m being buried under things I don’t understand,” I whisper, willing myself to calm down. The gills disappear.

The symbol over the door, however, remains. A crest, with a dragon wrapping its claw around a shield, and a pen.

I hear steps, and my decision is made. I press against the door, but it holds. There’s no lock, though. The thing keeping me out is magic.

Voices reach me.

“Starla, this had better be good. If you haven’t noticed, we are in a crisis, and I do not have time⁠—”

“It is, Father. That’s exactly why I need to discuss this now.” Starla is doing an excellent job. Her voice is just shaky enough to suggest she might cry, but no one could accuse her of being overly emotional.

My throat burns with a surge of heat.

If they see me, there’s no way he won’t be suspicious. That will also ruin Starla’s chance to look for anything as well.

I only have a split-second to make the decision.

“Please, open.”

The door gives, and I nearly fall into the office, dizzy and staggering. There’s a loud boom from somewhere in the hall.

“What in the sam hell!” Starla shouts, her accent breaking for a moment.

“They’ve made it upstairs. Quick, this way!”

Councilman Taylor.

I don’t think Never caused that noise. I think my magic did. My head throbs, and I rub a hand against my nose that comes away bloody. Just great. Even this one small command has me ready to flop over.

There’s no time to worry about that, though. I have to hide, but I see only shelves, more shelves, and a desk. Along with a few windows and a balcony.

A balcony! With stairs. The councilman has his own private entrance out to the west gardens—the opposite side from the fire.

Thank the tides.

While the office door might be magicked to keep people out, the window has no issues letting me leave. Only realizing how odd that is after exiting, I reach out to the handle and see why almost immediately. It only opens from the inside.

Guess I’m committed now.

I’m descending the stairs, my eyes level with the windowsill, when I see the office hall door begin to open.

I fling myself down the remaining stairs, practically flying to the entrance of the gardens. I don’t stop to breathe again until I’m safely hidden behind a row of hedges. Scales dust my arms, and my gills have made a reappearance as the edges of my vision go black.

We do not have time to faint, I urge myself.

I hear a yip followed by two voices.

My claws lengthen, but I know good and well that I don’t have enough energy to fight someone off in this state.

“What is it, boy?”