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Jarek’s fists turn white around his dagger hilts.

I’ve provoked him enough. “Relax, it’s me.” I reach up and slip the mask off my face.

Jarek’s rigid body sinks with his sigh. “Romeria.” He sheathes his blades.

Horik’s deep bellow of laughter trails him as he wanders back to their pupils.

“I had to test this thing out.” The sun glints off the metal. “It works!”

“Do you realize how close you were to a blade through your chest?” he snaps, holding his hand out. “Let me see that.”

“Be careful. It’s old.”

He studies it. “Vin’nyla’s wings. Where did you get this?”

“From Lucretia. I went to see her last night—”

“You went down there without me?” His face morphs with anger.

I hold up my hands in surrender. “Hey, I came to your door, but you were busy.” I give him a knowing look.

“Then you interrupt me. You do not go down into that serpent’s tomb alone.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.” I mock salute, allowing irritation to bleed into my tone. I knew Jarek would be annoyed when he found out. I didn’t expect him to scold me like I’m a child. “Lucretia’s not going to hurt me. Besides, I can defend myself.”

“Against that thing? I doubt any of us can.” He hands me the mask back, his temper ebbing.

“She was asking about you. I think she has a crush.” I should probably warn him that she’s also a pervert who can travel unseen through wards and bedroom doors, but I resist the urge. It’s best he doesn’t know that, unless I want to spend my nights with Jarek standing over my bed.

“Whose face was that, that you were wearing just now?” he asks, a deep furrow across his forehead.

The doors swing open before I can answer, and Zorya and Gesine rush out, Eden close behind. She must have run to the library in a panic. Zorya’s hands are filled with swords and the caster’s eyes glow green, likely with a shield.

“It’s okay, it’s me. I was wearing this.” I wave my hand, the mask’s silver flashing.

The one-eyed warrior relaxes her fighting stance, and Gesine releases her hold of her power as they take the path toward us.

“A token from Vin’nyla. May I?” Gesine collects it from my grasp to study it. “Magnificent.”

“Lucretia has five more hidden in the crypt. I don’t know what they do, but if they’re anything like this one …”

“Did you know she went to the crypt alone last night?” Jarek’s tone carries accusation as he glares at Gesine.

“I stopped at the library to tell her, but she was busy too.” Seems everyone was busy last night but me.

Gesine’s cheeks flush as she hands the mask back to me. “I imagine there is still much the oracle hides from us.”

“You have no idea.”

Jarek’s head cocks, his glare lethal. “What is that supposed to mean?”

I sigh heavily. If he was mad before, he’ll be reaching for my neck soon. “Those nymph engravings? They’re doors to other stones. One of them opens to the nymphaeum in Cirilea.”

Jarek’s features go slack. “You didn’t—”

“I went through it.”

I press my hand over the stone that leads to Cirilea, and childish laughter curls in my ears. “Lucretia said most of them don’t work anymore.”

“Since the great rift, I would imagine.” Gesine studies another stone closely. “These markings are familiar.”

Jarek scans each one. “They all look the exact same to me.”

“Not if you have spent years staring at one of these, trying to make sense of it.” She taps the wall. “This one leads to Nyos, I am positive.”

I test the carvings. “Nothing.”

“It is too bad it no longer works. We could have had a doorway directly into Mordain.”

I snort. “Yeah, because I’m sure they’d roll out a warm welcome for me if I showed up there.”

“Master Scribe Agatha would. She would have loved to meet you. She would have kept you safe.”

“Where is this eel you keep talking about, anyway?” Zorya scowls at the emptiness around us, deftly spinning a karambit between her fingers.

“Serpent,” Gesine corrects her. “And not even that. She is a sylx, and I’m sure she is close by, waiting to reveal herself when she feels the time is right.”

“No rush.” Jarek’s shrewd gaze searches the shadows as if he can make out her hiding spot within them.

Lucretia’s location doesn’t matter. “I’m going to Cirilea again tonight,” I announce.

That jerks his attention back to me.

I can already hear what he’s going to say. “I need to find out what Atticus is doing about Queen Neilina and the poison.”

“You already know what his solution is for the latter. You’ve seen the executions.”

“That was before we wrote to him.” Zander and I didn’t hold back much in our letter, but we have no idea if Atticus listened. He may not trust me, but will he send an army north in the chance that we’re right? Will he stop slaughtering mortals, knowing that what flows through their veins won’t matter after Hudem? Will he do anything at all? “Zander is heading to the rift to try to stop Neilina. He needs to know what kind of help he can expect against her, if any. The only way to find that out is in Cirilea. And I can’t sit here in Ulysede while the world around us burns. Not when I can help.”

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