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Dalca sighs, sounding about eighty years old. “Izamal...”
“Yes, yes, I shouldn’t disparage an ikonomancer in front of their apprentice, won’t happen again, Wardana’s honor.”
Dalca pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m training some new recruits in a half hour. I could use a hand.”
It’s still an order, but well disguised. Izamal doesn’t bat an eye. “You’ll let me take on the big ones? Knock ’em down a peg or two?”
“They’re yours.” Dalca strides off, raising a hand in farewell.
“Man of my heart, you are,” Izamal calls after him.
I stare at him blankly. How can he be so friendly with Dalca when I know how he really feels? Izamal winks, as if to reassure me that it’s all an act. “Why don’t I show you to where you’ll be staying?”
Izamal leads me through a maze of sandstone hallways, across the courtyard, up two flights of stairs into the Wardana dormitories. “Used to be four trainees to a room, but there used to be far more trainees. This one looks promising.”
A simple room. One side of it is already occupied, but Iz gestures at a simple bed and nightstand fitted with a basin. Above the bed is a window that overlooks the third and the lower rings beyond. This is the furthest I’ve ever been from the Storm.
“You’ve done good,” Izamal murmurs, shutting the door.
“Why antagonize them?” I ask.
He shrugs. “The more I play it up, the less they think I mean to do anything about it. What did you two talk about?”
“Nothing interesting,” I lie, and change the subject. “We ought to search the Ven for Pa, right, just in case? But how? It’s a lot bigger up close.”
“I don’t think they’d keep him in the Ven.”
I smooth the hem of my overdress. “Are the stories true? About Dalca and his secret passageways?”
“First off, they’re nothis. They’re ancient. Paths that lead between the rings, or to the ruins of the old city underneath us. It’s a maze down there. If that’s where they’re keeping him—Dalca and Cas—then we need to find out how they go in and out. If we follow both of them, sooner or later we’ll come across something.”
Follow Dalca, follow Cas. Easy enough.
“Never forget that you’re playing a part.” Izamal says. “You’re in now—this is where your work begins. I hope you’re ready.”
Izamal strides back into the hall. I stare out the window, marveling at how small and dark the fifth is from here. I’ve dreamt of walking these halls for so long. It sickens me that this is how my dream playsout; that only once the Wardana took everything from me could I be one of them.
I trace the lines on my palm. I’ll find Pa. I’ll save him. And maybe I’m wrong, maybe he will want to fight back. Because the fight that he and Ma started—it’s not over.
