And third, it was really,reallytime for her to be going.
Elysia began to squirm in her chair, wiggling and clenching her thighs. She waved a server to her side with embarrassment flooding her cheeks and whispered, “Is there a bathroom on this floor?”
“Down the hall and to your right, miss.”
Scarzan’s eyes darted over as she stood to exit. He barked with the hardened assurance of someone who was rarely denied. “No one leaves the table until the game is done. No one.” His eyes narrowed on her.
Elysia paused with her legs bouncing uncomfortably. “Sir, I really don’t think this can wait...” She trailed off, as if flustered at his indecent behavior.
The man to her left seemed wholly unaffected by Scarzan’s intensity. He waved a hand, brushing the diplomat’s spittle and anger aside. “By the river, let the girl go to the bathroom. Do ya want her to piss all over the carpet? She won’t be leaving the House unpaid—no one ever does.”
The servers remained still, none wishing to defy Scarzan.
His fingers clenched. “Five minutes.”
Elysia kept her shoulders from heaving in relief, nodding obediently as she scurried from the room. Five minutes. Five minutes to save her own neck and get as far from the House as possible. She willed her legs to behave normally until the doorshushed over the carpet back to closed, and then she lunged like a madman down the hall, fingers scraping at the first door handle she came upon.
Shoving the door open, she stumbled into a sprawling leisure room and prayed her luck had returned.Not that I ever had any.She started with the window, straining and pulling to no avail. Of course, it was sealed.Godsdammit.
“No one in or out,” she muttered to herself. She spun around.
She had maybe three minutes now.
The seconds dwindled.
Elysia took a long, ragged breath. She was better than this. She had trained for this. Not the magic. But for escape? Yes. There was not a building in Relaclave she could not hide in or escape from. An escape was nothing more than a secret.
She would get this room to tell her its secrets.
She closed her eyes and listened to the soft current of the old, smoky air.
There.
Like a catch in the fabric of the ether that made the room, she took hold of the thread and followed it in her mind’s eye until she stubbed her toe. Her eyes opened.What in the gods’ names?
She stood between two windows. The wall between them was plain and without any marks. The thread held taut, drawing her fingers to the window frame’s edge.
Feet clattered down the hall.
Her fingers pressed to the wood.
A banging on the door began.
The wall popped with a hiss and slid back behind the other window, and in the space between stood the Doorman with a satisfied catlike grin and cunning eyes holding an oil lamp to break up the darkness.
Elysia startled and did the first thing that came to mind.
She swung. And gods, did she swing hard.
The woman’s eyes widened right as Elysia’s fist smashed her face.
The Doorman fell back like a statue and slid down the wall until she did not move.
Her heart thundered and bloodied crescents appeared on her palm where her nails had dug in. Elysia shook out her hand, cursing internally.Fuck, that really hurt.She stared down at the Doorman, taking in the woman’s jet-black roots creeping into her bleached blonde hair, the dark lashes dusting her high cheeks.
She’d knocked out a myth, and she’d be damned if she didn’t live to tell the tale.
Elysia stepped over the Doorman muttering an apology and yanked the hidden panel shut right as she heard the lock break and the door slam open. She shuddered, thinking of the rage Scarzan would emit when he realized she was gone.
