The Virtoris siblings followed Yrsa as she landed on the rooftop of the nearest building. She proceeded to walk along the rooftops, jumping and fluttering to the next, all the way back to the harbor, where she tucked her wings in tight.
“Isn’t that the ice spider banner?” Vidar pointed to the top of a flag, discernible from where they stood. The red flag and the long legs of an ice spider sprawled across it.
“This is the brothel. You said it was being monitored,” Vidar accused Yrsa. “Why bring us here?”
“And it’s still being watched. Frombelow. Lucky for you, though, there’s a secret entrance.”
“Your whole family is full of secrets.”
Yrsa barked out a laugh. “You don’t know half of it, sea serpent. Remember that you promised not to breathe a word of what I’m about to show you. If you do, it could harm someone I love. Someone I think you are quite fond of, too.”
Vidar looked like he wanted to press, but just nodded. At that, Yrsa glided to the far side of the roof, where old ale barrels and assorted junk waited.
It was an odd place for barrels. Even empty ones. Why not get them refilled? Or use the wood for fire?
She got her answer when Yrsa moved two of the barrels aside and revealed a trapdoor. The Terror of Grindavik pulled a key from her pocket and unlocked the door. It opened on a whine.
“In you go.” Yrsa pointed down.
Sayyida and Vidar approached the door and peered inside. A tidy, elegantly furnished office waited below.
“My father’s office.”
“Why does he have a trapdoor above it?” Vidar asked.
“Father has many exits in his establishments. The king’s spymaster can never be too careful.”
Sayyida supposed that was true, and so she hopped into the office. Vidar joined her, and Yrsa came last. Once inside, the redhead waved her hand in the air.
At first, Sayyida was confused, but then she heard Yrsa’s hand hit something. The female grabbed an invisible thing with two hands, tugged, and the trapdoor shut behind them. Softer than Sayyida would have imagined.
“Invisible rope and a barrier of air,” Yrsa explained. “Keeps it from being noisy. There’s one on the other side too that keeps it airtight. Took Thantrel forever to perfect how to manipulate the air like that, but he was too proud to give up.”
“Right,” Vidar said. “Why are we in an office?”
Yrsa went to the side wall. “Because this is in here.” Yrsa pulled a dagger from a sheath beneath her cloak and poked her finger. Blood welled, only for the Terror to smear it along the wall, which then began to glow. “To Myrr.”
“Fates,” Sayyida breathed. “A gateway. But those are?—”
“Illegal unless sanctioned by the Crown.” Yrsa sucked the blood from her finger as the gateway grew wider and brighter. “Hence why you’re keeping the family secret.”
“Who made it?” Vidar asked.
“Luccan.”
Vidar appeared stunned, and Sayyida understood. To have Luccan hide this from Vidar would be like Saga hiding something important from Sayyida.
“You’ll need to go through quickly,” Yrsa said. “They don’t stay open for very long. I’ll come through last.”
“Are you staying in Myrr too?” Sayyida asked.
“No, I’ll return here to tidy up.” Yrsa pointed to the ceiling, where the barrels were out of place. “Then I’m going to return to Grindavik.”
“Right. Well, when you come back, can you do us a favor?”
“Perhaps?”
“Tell the fae aboard theSlynkrthat we’re safe and to join the rest of the fleet.”
