“Pehper isn’t worth your energy,” her voice echoed through themarekem.
“Then why is she here?”
“Search now. Fight her later. You have my blessing.”
The urge to fight still burned at the edges—until heavy footsteps echoed in the hall.
Everyone froze.
Rhodes lifted a finger to his lips, commanding silence as the steps grew louder. A muffled voice followed. Then another set of footsteps.
Two guards.
Nash moved toward the door with measured steps, positioning himself in front of it—ready to be the first face they’d see if it swung open. The lock would buy us a second, maybe two. Just enough time to act.
The footsteps stopped. The guards stood just outside. We heard them murmur—indecipherable through the thick wood. Then… silence.
No one breathed. Every muscle locked, as if stillness could make us invisible. My heart pounded in my ears, and River’s worry bled through our bond like a knife pressed to my spine.
Then the guards walked away, their steps fading.
I exhaled.
One by one, the search resumed, tension clinging to the room like smoke.
If we’re caught, execution would be a mercy. Interrogation would be worse. I knew our father would prefer our deaths over revealing his mission to Kalluri. Under truth powder, we’d be pawns—spilling secrets the Hollow had protected for years. The thought made my stomach twist.
I closed my eyes and thought.
An idea sparked. I crossed to one of two heavy tapestries beside Hogboom’s shelves and pulled it back—just cold, flat stone.
I moved to the second.
“What is it?” Scarlet asked, footsteps soft as she joined me.
I yanked the tapestry aside and sighed at the same sight—a dead end.
Then Scarlet’s hand lifted, pointing above us. “There. That stone’s set differently than the others.”
She was right. One block near the top was mortared unevenly, its edges slightly misaligned.
I stretched, but my fingers came up a foot short. Scarlet stepped closer, and Wylder moved to my side. Before either of us could reach it, Rhodes stepped forward—his height making quick work of the problem. He tugged the loose stone free and handed it to me, then reached into the narrow space behind it.
A scrape—material against stone.
Rhodes pulled out a dusty, leather-bound tome—almost identical to the one in Scarlet’s pack.
He held it between them, smirking. “This feels oddly familiar.”
Scarlet accepted the book with both hands, voice soft and steady. “Thank you.”
Everyone crowded in as she wiped dust from the cover and cracked it open.
My heart jolted.
The pages were blank.
She flipped through in a panic, searching for even a trace of ink. This tome was thicker than the first, but just as cryptic. Her fingers trembled as she turned another page.
