A temple built upon suffering, where Raul Costa displayed his trophies.
And somewhere, hidden within this twisted sanctuary?—
Was the dagger I had come to steal.
I picked up one of the skulls from the shelf, its hollow eye sockets leering at me.
A shudder racked through me.
Had this been a Timeborne? A Timebound?
The thought made my stomach churn. I set the skull back down with a quiet clink, forcing myself to move forward.
A long table sat pushed against the back wall, strewn with documents.
I stepped closer.
One of the pages held a finely detailed illustration of a plant—everydelicate vein of its leaves, every hair on its buds captured with eerie precision. Beside the sketch, a single name was scrawled in flowing script.
Atropa belladonna.
Deadly nightshade.
I swallowed hard and set it down, my fingers trembling as I picked up another.
Poison Hemlock.
Tiny white flowers bloomed in umbrella-shaped clusters, their stems slender and deceptively delicate. The drawing was so lifelike, I almost expected the petals to flutter at my breath.
I exhaled. Costa’s fascination with poison ran deep.
But the stack of parchments beside the plant illustrations made my pulse stutter.
The top sheet held an intricate drawing of a dagger, its hilt engraved with symbols I didn’t recognize.
I shuffled through the pages, my heart pounding faster with every piece of parchment. More daggers. More weapons.
Then—
I stopped.
My breath hitched.
There, among the sketches?—
A blade that looked exactly like mine.
A chill slithered down my spine.
I lifted my fingertips to my mouth, stifling the gasp clawing its way up my throat.
Then, I saw another stack of sketches.
Hand-drawn Timebound necklaces.
“Oh my God,” I whispered.
This wasn’t just an archive.
