For a moment, he wondered if maybe it was finally Rafe coming to call. The speed and haste would be so like his brother. The messenger, however, was not. Rafe would have ripped the library apart before allowing someone else to come fetch him.
With a sigh, Xander pushed the door open and stopped short. "Helen?"
She turned at the sound of her name, offering him a look as sharp as the daggers she so deftly wielded. "Can we speak freely here?"
"Yes." He shut the door and swiftly crossed the room, the tone of her voice making his features twist in concern. "I've discovered no spy holes or secret doorways. As far as I know, the room is sound."
"Good, because a lot has happened in your absence, my prince. We have much to discuss before the night is done, and much to do before morning comes."
"What?" His heart thumped in his chest. "Helen, what?"
"Luka Aethionus brought an army to our doorstep. He arrived in Pylaeon this morning with a hundred armored doves to demand an audience with his sister. If we can't produce her, safe and unharmed, he promises the wrath of Aethios will descend upon us. Whatever time we thought we had is gone. You need to come home, now, before all is lost."
32
Cassi
Luka. Luka. Luka. Cassi sighed. Well, as much as a spirit could sigh. It was more of a subtle wilting, the tendrils of her phantom body drooping lower and lower. As soon as Xander left, she'd slipped into her magic and followed him, just as surprised as he to find Helen waiting in his rooms with the last news she wanted to hear. Valiant, brave, protective Luka. I should've known you'd ruin everything.
She'd expected Lyana's family to be concerned as soon as they learned of her absence in the House of Wisdom. She thought they'd send a letter inquiring about her health, or perhaps a messenger, positive there would be some diplomatic back-and-forth before it got to this point. Never once had she expected Luka to arrive unannounced with an army at his heels, though she supposed that was one way to keep the peace.
Of course, Malek would want to hear of this immediately, but Cassi was in no rush to see him. She already knew exactly what he'd say. This has gone on long enough. The doves can't learn of our plans. Kill the prince and come home. I'm tired of this game. Blah. Blah. Blah.
He wasn't wrong, just predictable, and she still had one more move left to make. If they were leaving for the House of Whispers in the morning, then her time was well and truly up. Tonight was her last opportunity to sneak into the vaults.
Cassi snapped back into her body, returning to the dimly lit library room where a mess of scrolls, loose parchment, and bound volumes was piled high across the table. When she lifted her head from where it had been resting, a page stuck to her cheek. Peeling it away derisively, she glanced about the room. She couldn't leave it like this. The Cassi who was an orphan owl and loyal best friend to a missing princess would never abandon the curated notes upon which said best friend's life depended. The Cassi who was a spy with some thieving to do wanted to punch the first Cassi in the face. With a groan, she stood and started organizing. Books returned to shelves and scrolls to cabinets. The scattered parchments were bundled and neatly tied. There was no telling how long the process took, but when she finally doused the lantern fire and emerged from the room, the city of Rynthos was far quieter than before, which actually suited her needs just fine.
Using speed to her advantage, Cassi leapt from the platform and flew across the sleeping city, making straight for her rooms in the castle. After the notes had been carefully deposited beside her bed, she dug through her trunk for the item she'd hidden at the bottom—an archivist's robe. They were the senior guardians of the library, and the only ones allowed in the rooms she intended to visit. If she were confronted, of course, they'd know she was lying immediately. But she hoped that from a distance in those darkened halls, wearing the robe would deter notice. The members of the royal family were archivists by default, and she'd taken this from the prince's room the week before while everyone else was at dinner.
Cassi strapped two daggers to her hips, another to her right thigh and one to her left arm, then stuffed the flowing amber silks into a bag, which she slung over her shoulder. Her bow, unfortunately, would draw too much notice, and it stayed behind. There was no way to get out of the castle unseen, so she took the path of least resistance and jumped off the balcony, hoping any onlookers would assume she was doing the same thing she and Xander had done every other day they'd been there—venturing out for research.
She swooped across the city, gliding over rooftops and rock formations, watching lantern light flicker over stone. Only when she reached the farthest column from the castle at the far edge of the city did she stop, coming to a smooth landing on the steps carved into its side. Circling until the castle was out of view, she counted to fifty, but no one came. If a guard had been watching, they'd assume she found a door and stepped through. Instead, she put her hands to the rail and gracefully vaulted over it, arching her wings high in a death dive. Air sifted soundlessly through her feathers as she plummeted. The ground came up swiftly. With one strong pump, her body slowed and her feet dropped quietly to the stone. She remained crouched on the ground for a few moments, listening for voices or soft steps or the subtle whistle of wings in flight, but she heard nothing. Quickly she donned the robe and stood, pulling the hood low over her head as she made for the entrance to the tunnels a few yards away.
Mere steps into the labyrinth, she was swallowed by darkness. The archivists carried lanterns when they traversed these halls, following coded signs through the maze, but the risk of being seen was too great. Cassi would have to rely on memory alone. Every night in her dreams she'd studied the path. At the first fork, stay left. At the second, go right. At the next, stay straight. On and on, like a phantom in the shadows, only this body was real and the stakes were too.
At the first hint of a voice, she froze. With her owl eyes, it was easy to spot the dullest halo of lantern light coming closer. Pressing against the wall, she watched immobile as an archivist approached from the other end of the hall, nothing but one fork and one choice between them. Her fingers found a dagger, just in case. She held her breath as the woman paused and held the light to the sign, reading which way to go. The leather hilt grew warm against her palm.
Come on. Come on.
The archivist went left.
Cassi released her breath and remained still until the glow of the woman's lantern disappeared. After that, she moved quickly, her soft-soled shoes brushing against the stone, the swishing like the beat of flying wings. She ran into three more people after that, getting lucky the first two times with conveniently placed breaks in the tunnels. The third time, however, a man approached from behind, leaving her no other choice but to race ahead and pray he was too buried in his thoughts to notice the subtle changes left in her wake—the specks of dust stirred by her wings, the shift in the air, the scent of sweat, all drowned out, she hoped, by the loud clanging of his keys and the rustling of his robes. At the next fork, she hid in the shadows, waiting to see which way he would go. Leaving a body would only incur questions, something she hoped to avoid. When he went right, she continued down her path, until finally, it ended at a door.