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I swirled the tip of the feather against my chin, thinking.
And then it hit me.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” I whispered in awe. “There are hidden hallways.”
And judging by the spacing used for the other hallways, these ones were incredibly thin—so thin two people would not be able to walk side by side. During my time here, I had not once traveled down a hallway that small, which made me wonder if they were even in use anymore.
And if they weren’t in use, if they had been forgotten about, I could use them to move about undetected.
I smiled to myself—the universe had finally granted me a boon.
My finger slid along the paper as I familiarized myself with the hidden hallway closest to me. It led to a large, round area, bigger than the castle’s smallest wing. I leaned in, trying to read what was written in the middle of the circle, but the writing was smeared and impossible to make out. I traced another slender hallway, finding that it, too, led to the same space. I did another. Again, the same thing. I repeated this process for the next ten minutes—each time ending up at the same place.
“Why do they all lead there?” I wondered out loud, fully ensnared by figuring out the mysteries of the map.
A startling knock sounded at the door, and I nearly knocked the ink over in the process. I grabbed it with both hands before it could topple over.
“One moment!” I called out. Scrambling, I slipped the map under the bed, grabbed my robe, and put it on as I walked to the door and opened it.
When I saw who stood on the other side, I was tempted to close it, but then I remembered I needed him.
“Arkyn,” I said, forcing myself to try to be pleasant.
“May I come in?”
Fuck off.That’s what I wanted to say. But I didn’t.
“Sure.” I swung the door open, allowing him in.
He was dressed in his typical fine clothing, a gold livery collar draped lavishly around his broad shoulders, his attire as stiff as a washed blanket left out to dry in the clutch of winter.
“I was pleased to hear that your spirits have improved,” he stated, the heels of his meticulously polished boots sounding against the floor as he entered.
“I’m sure,” I mumbled, tossing the door closed with a little more force than I intended.
“It is the truth, Aurelia. You should know by now that my tongue cannot produce a lie.” He walked over to the exact spot where I had been sitting on the floor only moments ago. He glanced down. “It is a bit odd that you have a bottle of ink and a quill sitting here, in the middle of the floor, without any paper.”
I opened my mouth, but he held up his hand, stopping me. “Save your lies. They are like daggers in my ears,” he groaned, his thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose.
Daggers in his ears?
His tongue couldn’t produce a lie?
At one point, my gullible little mind would have brushed him off as being dramatic, but now . . .
“Why can’t you tell a lie? And why do mine bother you?”
“Although I am a Demi God, I was born with the unique ability to tell when someone is lying. It is one of the reasons I have been bestowed the title of God of Truth.”
I pondered for a moment. It made sense. Arkyn always had an uncanny ability to sense my lies—something I could trace all the way back to when I first met him at the bathhouse.
“Wait.” A laugh bubbled on my lips as I realized the irony of it all. “I truth poisoned the God of Truth?”
Unimpressed, he nodded. “Why is that so funny?”
Great divine, I didn’t know why. It just seemed so ridiculous now that I couldn’t help but laugh. And the more I thought about it, the funnier it was.
Ihad truth bombed the truth God.
