Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Ah.
I flash the badge to a robed man stationed at the library door, and he glances around to make sure no one’s watching before he sneaks us inside. He leads us to Skriniaris Evander, working at one of several tables surrounded by walls of books, and leaves again. Taffy arches her back and yawns, and pads her way over onto the book the skriniaris is reading. He chuckles and looks over her to us—Olyn in simple women’s dress and myself, in my mask.
“Found yourself a third.”
“It was wise advice.”
“I’ll admit, I’m surprised you found someone.” He acknowledges Olyn kindly. “It’s not my intention to be dismissive. But your team has more to overcome than the others.”
“You’re right. We have no magic, or” —as in the case of Megaera, who could have her meridians unblocked if we paid someone or found someone willing— “choose not to use it. We are limited to other techniques—alchemy, needling, muscle and bone manipulation, surgery. We do not have the ability to reach into the body with the same precision. We have to touch the disease to cure it. And atop all of this, we’re looked down on for being Skeldar or female.”
Skriniaris Evander lowers his head solemnly.
“You may believe us to be the weakest team,” I say, and reach over to pat his cat. “But you need us to win the most.”
He blinks and looks quizzically at us, but before he can inquire further, the robed man from earlier reappears. “They’re here.”
Skriniaris Evander’s expression tightens; he immediately rises. His cat follows him as he goes, and after whispering to Olyn that I’ll be right back, I do too. I caught anxiety in the lines of his eyes and I want to understand—who can cause Skriniaris Evander to so swiftly stride from a room, and why he’s in Hinsard too.
Taffy leaves traces of white fur over the hallways and down a set of narrow stairs, all the way deep into an underground hall. A few lanterns light the way, here and there. Little light, but enough to know this meeting has been anticipated.
I linger a moment, brushing the edge of my mask. I shouldn’t be here. If they found me . . .
The sound of hushed voices hits my ear and curiosity takes over. I follow it to the end of the hall. Massive tapestries decorate the walls, and behind one of these is a partially opened door and a . . . tunnel?
“Is he in danger?”
“We’re still trying to find that out.”
“What we do know is, he didn’t manage to save her.”
The voices are coming from right behind the wall, and I recognise all of them. Something touches my leg and my boots make a scuffing sound as I jerk back from . . . Taffy’s tail.
“Who’s there?” barks the heavier voice, and before I can so much take a step back, Commander Thalassios has emerged from the tunnel, his magic choking my throat and pinning my arms to my sides.
Skriniaris Evander follows, and finally the regent’s prodigal daughter, still in a mask of her own.
I cough, trying to squeeze out words.
Skriniaris Evander waves a hand, cutting through the commander’s hold on me. I fall to the ground, struggling to catch my breath. Wrinkled hands kindly help me to my feet and wary eyes watch me.
I pull at the knot at the back of my head. My feathered mask slips off and dangles from my pinched fingers.
All three suck in a sharp breath.
Evander clasps me by the arms and inspects me. He frowns. “Your meridians . . .”
I shake my head, and he swallows.
I look at each in turn and focus on Evander. “You need our team to win.” My voice strains. “Our king’s life depends on it.”
I tell them everything and they listen grim faced, then tell me what has happened since the attack at Mount Lysippos.
Skriniaris Evander strokes his cat with a sombre expression. “After Mount Lysippos, he purged the king’s supporters from the military—blocked their meridians, forced them onto the streets. Half of— that island was slaughtered, the rest scattered across the Fotimos canal camps.” He pauses, his voice heavy. “They’re labourers now. Hidden in plain sight.”
“And the prince? Where is he?”
“The king begged Prince Nicostratus to save his mother, to focus on this first.”
Skriniaris Evander adds, “The regent brought her here.”
“Does that mean the prince is coming to Hinsard? His manor is under regent control. It’s all traps. He cannot . . .”
The three faces before me darken with frowns and worried shadows. My stomach knots. “What happened?
Princessa Liana speaks quietly, “He was seen being dragged onto a longboat this afternoon.”
I shake my head—I can’t stop.
“The regent has an elite guard around the boat and another five hundred close by. We need to plan extremely carefully.”
The grim set to their lips suggests it won’t be an easy operation.