“What?” Vi turned to find him pointing at a narrow strip of wood that ran the length of the wall, floor to ceiling, in the back corner. Cobwebs clung to it and Vi nearly coughed up a lung as she disturbed the dust to expose the wood to the light of her flame. The firelight clung to the carved shape of a trident, gouged deep. “Adela’s symbol,” she whispered. “How did you even see this?”
“Elfin eyes,” he said with a grin.
Vi narrowed her gaze in his direction. “You just started in the right side of the room is all.” She took a step back, pulling a heavy barrel away from the corner. She followed the strip of wood up, over, and back down, where a clean line ran behind one of the shelves. “I think it’s a door.”
“How do you figure?”
Rather than answering, Vi lifted her hand, pressing it to the wood. It went up in eager flames, turning to a pile of ash. Sure enough, hidden behind the wedge was a miniature handle mostly obscured by the shaded alcove.
“Like that.”
“Why would Adela mark the entrance to her hideout?” Taavin asked as Vi gripped the handle, pushing her shoulder into the door.
“Two theories. One, she planned to come back here, or send someone else back here. Two, she wanted to be found by whoever was clever enough to follow her.” Vi grunted and pushed harder. The stone door groaned on hinges that didn’t want to open. “With any luck, we’ll find the crown right—”
Vi paused as the door finally opened in full and she stared at the room beyond.
Dust had settled on every surface, from the mostly empty bookshelf to the cot. Vi’s attention was drawn to the threadbare tapestry hanging by threads. A rudimentary trident was stitched on it.
“Was this her room?” Taavin asked, entering.
“No… she would’ve been given a Tower bedroom as an apprentice. This must’ve been her hideaway.”
“She lived a double life even then. A bed as an apprentice… a bed as a pirate,” Taavin murmured as Vi crossed to the bookcase. Notebooks were still lined up on it.
She grabbed one off the top shelf, but it had nothing but notes on Waterrunner combat. Vi returned it as her eyes settled on another row of Adela’s records. Each journal on the lower shelf had a different colored spine, and a number.
“One, blue.” Vi took the first notebook. Within were scribbles in what was now an all-too-familiar ink. “Each of these notebooks corresponds to a book she’d read in the library.” Vi flipped the pages. “There’s a whole system here—circles, dots—these are the cyphers to all her markings.”
Separately, Adela’s notes didn’t make any sense. They were jargon about ships, seafaring maps, and histories. But with the library books in tandem, Vi was getting a complete picture of how Adela had tracked the crown through the ages and planned her getaway.
“What does it say about the crown?”
“I don’t know yet, other than she wanted it.” Vi scanned the pages. “She knew it could give her great power. That seems to be enough for most mortals.”
“Most…mortals?” Taavin repeated quietly. Vi tensed and looked up from the notebook. His emerald eyes searched hers with intense purpose.
“I’m not quite mortal, not anymore,” Vi whispered. “We both know that.”
“I’ve never heard you say it in such a way before though.”
Don’t look at me like that, she wanted to say. It was the same look he’d given her in those ruins a lifetime ago. A look that saw something in her she herself wasn’t ready to see.
“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not mortal.” Vi closed the book and returned it to the shelf. “Otherwise I couldn’t do what needs to be done.”
She took another book off the shelf to avoid staring at him. This one wasn’t a notebook, but a proper manuscript instead. It was all about the port of Oparium, the closest port to Lyndum, and how it had been built. There were underlined passages regarding the difficulties the builders had in constructing the town and port due to the craggy, cave-pocked rocks and cliffs surrounding it.
Scraps of papers caught her eye. Balancing the book in one hand, Vi unfolded the leaves. Rough sketches made up the lines on rudimentary maps of what appeared to be tunnels.
“What’s that?” Taavin asked.
“Her heist.” Vi held up one of the maps. “Adela found a room to store her information here in the palace. I’m sure she had another secret passage she used to escape, because if she was caught it would’ve been recorded in the guards’ records. But since her name was blotted out, I can only believe that she—and the crown—at least made it to Oparium. I’d bet she used these tunnels when she was there to evade the encroaching Imperial guards.” Vi put the map down, moving to hold up another when a slip of paper fluttered to the floor.
“What’s that?” Taavin asked, crouching down. Vi mirrored the motion and picked up the note.
She recognized the script.No, she recognized a handwritingverysimilar—this writing looked just like her father’s and was too close to be chance. Vi read the inscription aloud:
“My darling A.L.,
