Eira followed Deneya into one of the two tunnels that led in and out of the arena. Deneya glanced over her shoulder, looking around quickly before grabbing Eira’s hand.
“Durroe watt radia. Durroe sallvas tempre,” she whispered quickly. Glyphs surrounded their locked hands. “We don’t have very long and we have a lot of ground to cover.”
Eira remained silent, listening closely as Deneya gave her orders.
“Iftheyask, you’ll tell them that you gave me the slip and sneaked away during training. But let’s hope you don’t spend enough time with them again for them to have the chance to inquire.”
Eira nodded as they crossed out of the pathway and into the square the competitors had been escorted through not even an hour ago. She didn’t have to ask who Deneya meant by “they.” It was clear she meant the Pillars.
“Are we headed to the Archives?” Eira asked.
“Where else?” Deneya gave her an agitated glance. “Let’s find you a stupid rock.”
23
Deneya led her down an alleyway and through a door she unlocked with a key on her belt. The passage was wedged between at least four buildings, the mortar and stone changing in style as they carried on. At the end was a small room—supply closet, more like. Deneya pointed to a change of clothes that was reminiscent of the flowing styles the elfin wore.
“Change quickly.” Deneya put her back to Eira.
She did as commanded, stripping out of her competitor’s clothing and putting on the simple dress and jacket. There was a wide-brimmed, floppy hat, adorned with flowers, that finished the ensemble. “Done.”
“Good.” Deneya grabbed a cloak off a peg on the wall, slinging it around her shoulders. “Now you’re slightly less recognizable. I’m going to step out first. I’ll knock and then you count to twenty before leaving. Head left—you’ll see the Archives and can work your way there by sight.”
“You’re not coming with me?” The thought of being in the city alone for the first time since her captivity had her tight-chested and breathless.
“Of course I am. I’m going to trail behind. You might not see me, but I’ll be there.”
“I’d feel safer if—”
“If any Pillars are watching you, they’ll get suspicious if they see you too close to me.” Deneya locked eyes with Eira in an intense stare. “Listen to me—you’ll be safe. If I say you are, then you will be. Do as I say and trust me.”
Eira bit back a remark that Deneya had said the manor would be safe…only to discover that enemies were lurking in their midst. But the Pillars hadn’t made a move against Eira until Eira had been the one to stick her neck out. And she had vowed to follow Deneya’s orders; it was time to prove that she could.
“Understood,” Eira said, putting all her faith in the Head Specter.
“Good.” There were no further words of encouragement. Deneya slipped out the door and left Eira alone. After about a minute there was the expected knock. Eira counted slowly to twenty, stepped out, and headed left.
The street was quiet and she kept her head down, resisting the urge to look behind her for Deneya. Imaginary enemies lurked behind every column of the arcade she walked in. They lounged in the sunken doorways of closed shops and shuttered inns. This must not be the “nice” area of Risen. This forgotten corner of the city looked just as much like the underbelly of Solarin, even Oparium. Poverty was universal.
She stepped into the sunlight at the end of the street and glanced upward. Sure enough, the Archives were visible, but farther than she would’ve expected—or hoped. She didn’t know how much time Deneya had bought them, but Eira had the keen sense that haste would be her friend. Picking a street that seemed to go in the rough direction of up and toward the large spire, Eira began to make her way through Risen.
Twice she thought she caught a glimpse of Deneya from the corner of her eye, but she never looked long enough to be sure. Once, she thought she recognized a man’s face as one of the Pillars. The familiarity nearly made her come to a sudden halt. But the man passed without so much as a glance her way and Eira kept her head high and eyes forward, ignoring the frantic beating of her heart.
She arrived at the Archives unharmed, albeit mildly winded from her aggressive pace and the long progression of stairs that her path had necessitated. Swords of Light patrolled the large square in front of the Archives and two were posted on either side of the doors. But none of them stopped her as she entered.
“This way,” Deneya murmured, brushing past her. Eira nearly jumped out of her skin. She hadn’t realized Deneya had come to her side. The woman could move more silently than Ducot in mole form.
Deneya led them up a side stair, beginning to wrap around the circular tower of the Archives, higher and higher.
“That’s where the Flame of Yargen was before it was extinguished, wasn’t it?” Eira murmured, mostly to herself as the realization settled on her.
Deneya paused, looking over at the giant, unlit brazier. There was a sad sort of longing in her eyes, emotions that had been steeping too long unattended in the ocean of time. “Yes, a long, long time ago.”
“Didn’t Ulv—” Deneya shot her a glare and Eira rephrased “—wasn’t it extinguished more recently? In the past thirty years?”
“The real flame was,” Deneya said finally and started forward again. “But the real flame hadn’t been burning in that basin for a long time.”
“What?”
