Turning back to the table in front of me, I couldn't help but allow my eyes to rest on the book Olympia had found the symbol in. The symbol of resistance, of rebellion. Every child born into a First Ring House was taught the history of the uprisings, warned of the signs, and encouraged to be diligent in recognizing them again, but there hadn't been a rebellion in five hundred years. The priests had done such a good job at erasing that history so only the major, and probably some minor, Houses had knowledge of them. We'd grown comfortable in our luxurious homes, content with our failure in the Trials and our participation in the Culling, but if there was anything I knew from studying history, it was that it always repeated itself. If we were due for an uprising, Olympia finding that old symbol indicated it was coming sooner than we could have anticipatedand maybe we hadn't done as good of a job at hiding Sanctuary's rebellious history as we thought.
I sighed, wishing I'd brought a glass of grandmother's wine to the library. I'd come here to get away from my worries for a night, not to add to them. Yet I couldn't ignore what my cousin knew.
This was Cosmo's fault. The way he treated Adrian, his show of force outside of the last Trial, and the way he'd been ranting and raving to anyone who would listen since that Sanctuary had fallen away from the gods and the poor needed to be cleansed of their blasphemy was only serving to heighten the tensions which existed in an already vulnerable city. Nascha had always claimed Cosmo's underestimation of the lower rings would be his downfall. We could only hope he wouldn't bring the rest of us down with him.
Chapter Six
Olympia
The Vipers kept their House locked up as if they had something to hide.
I’d spent the last several hours trying to find a way in and realizing, with some heartache, Dante had never considered us close enough to show me a hidden backdoor or forgotten servant’s passage the way Luca had. It was a reminder that I hadn’t known the Viper Heir half as well as I’d thought. I’d realized that for the first time when he was paired with Adrian. Not because the gods considered them partners but because, for the first time in our whole lives, Dante had developed a personality.
The dark and brooding Viper Heir wasn’t gone entirely but he had a light in his eyes every time he looked at her that I was sure I’d never seen before, even when he looked at me. That was why I’d hated her. It felt like a valid reason at the time but, if I was being honest, the longer they were gone, the easier it was becoming to admit to myself I’d never hated Adrian, not really. I’d hated the situation and the loss of the boy I’d grown up believing was mine. The longer he was away, though, the moreI was understanding I’d never truly had him at all. No one but Adrian ever had.
I almost found myself feeling hopeful for them. Maybe they’d found a place together away from here, outside of this accursed city, and with the gods. Maybe they were happy. Maybe they’d grow old together as soulmates and live the life we all dreamed of but rarely attained. I wanted that for them.
That didn’t stop me from being suspicious, however, and it wouldn’t keep me from seeking answers. Adrian Bexley simply couldn’t be who she said she was. No girl from the Third Ring could rise up and defeat all ten of the Geist’s Trials, even with a strong First Ring partner like Dante. There was something about her that didn’t add up, something we weren’t seeing, and I was determined to find out what it was.
So, after hours of watching the Viper’s front door, waiting for the Guardians outside of it to go off duty or the acolytes to quit their studying and shut off the bright, glowing lights in the lower windows, I gave up and dedicated myself to my second task. I’d spent an acceptable amount of time watching the Vipers, but I wasn’t going to go a whole night with nothing to show for it. If Nascha’s request couldn’t be completed, I would move on to the next.
Keeping to the shadows without making a single noise, I made my way around the outer edge of the First Ring to the stairs and down to the Second. Instead of turning toward the Bexley home, however, I kept descending to the Third. There was somewhere I hadn’t been yet, somewhere I knew needed to be checked, but I’d been avoiding it.
I heard the raucous sounds of laughter and music drifting from somewhere in the direction of the eighth tunnel down below as my feet hit the streets of the Third Ring but I ignored it and set off in the opposite direction. I knew the way well enough. I’d never admit it out loud but I’d followed him once, all the wayhere. I’d watched them slip inside through the propped open door and ascend the steps to the fourth floor. I’d remained on the street and watched them through the window until clothes started coming off. Then I’d turned around and made my way home where I locked myself in my room and tried to forget everything I’d seen.
I eyed the doorstop on my way into the apartment building, noting the obvious security hazard as I passed. I nearly tripped over an orange tabby cat stretched out at the base of the stairs. The thing hissed as it darted off into the darkness. I made my way to the fourth floor as quietly as I could. The last thing I needed was to draw the attention of Adrian’s nosy neighbors. I wasted no time picking the lock of the apartment door and then pushed it open and stepped inside.
It was just as dingy as I expected. A tiny kitchen sat open to a living room with ragged old couches and a pop of color in the form of several pieces of canvas artwork hung on the walls. I kicked the door shut behind me and passed through the common space to the hall. Halfway down, I came to a stop between two doors opposite one another. Choosing the one on the left at random, I turned the knob and stepped inside.
Against the far wall sat an unmade bed covered in fraying brown sheets and a patched plaid comforter. A few bits of clothing were thrown about haphazardly, draped over furniture or piled on the floor. A cracked mirror stood beside a dresser that was missing a drawer while a homemade drum set took up most of the remaining space. Pulling the door closed, I turned back to the one across the hall, the one that must be Adrian’s.
Steeling myself with a deep breath, I reached out and turned the doorknob of the next room. I recognized the interior instantly. Everything was in the exact same spot as it had been when she was here. Even a few sets of freshly stitched shirts hung on the door of the closet. The bed was made, fluffy purplepillow in place. The clothes in her drawers were neatly folded and a hairbrush sat atop a fraying round chair.
I looked beneath the clothes in her drawers, in her closet, and under her bed, but Adrian’s Bexley’s possessions were shockingly meager, even for a Third Ringer. She had nothing here worth hiding. It hardly even seemed like she’d ever lived here at all. Frustrated with myself for thinking there might have actually been something here to give me insight into the truth about Adrian Bexley, I started to leave.
I was already coming to terms with the fact that I’d accomplished absolutely nothing this evening when I heard keys jingling in the front door lock. Muttering a curse, I turned and ran for the window in Adrian’s room just as whoever was coming in paused outside the door with their key in it, likely wondering why it was already unlocked.
I threw open the window, adrenaline surging through me. I couldn’t be found here. I wasn’t supposed to be off the First at all. My presence would create questions I couldn’t answer and expose Nascha’s reconnaissance plan before it could properly begin.
The night breeze rushed in, sending my hair flying in all directions. I leaned over the edge and looked down to find the ledge was a good three feet below the window and thin.
The sound of the front door closing and footsteps crossing the carpet had me hopping up onto the window and swinging my legs over anyway. Fighting to ignore the dizzying view of the ground four stories below, I focused on that tiny ledge and leapt. My heart soared into my throat as my feet hit the foothold with a slap. I swung my arms around to find my balance before pressing myself as closely to the building as I could. I exhaled slowly, closing my eyes and calming my racing heart.
“First time?”
I froze, one hand still gripping the edge of the open window for support. My entire upper half was visible through the window if one was standing at the right angle. That angle so happened to encompass the bedroom door and the entryway into the hall. So I had no choice but to peer around the window’s edge to see the roommate leaning against the door frame on the opposite side of the room. He raised a brow at my predicament, eyes scanning the situation as I fought to come up with anything at all to say.
“Excuse me?” It was all I could muster.
“You’re a pretty shit burglar so I figured it must be your first time,” he told me. “I mean, did you even take anything?”
I blinked at him, caught off guard by his assumption. Of course, why wouldn’t he assume I was here to steal something? Why else would someone sneak into a stranger’s apartment in the dead of night?
“I’m not a burglar,” I snapped instead because I was too proud to go along with his assumption even if it did explain my presence.
Still hugging the wall, I looked down at the street below before craning my neck to get a view of the side of the building as well. The ledge was only about a foot wide and ended just on either side of the window. There was no way down. I looked back up through the window and met the roommate’s gaze to realize he already knew.
“Need some help there, beautiful?” he asked with a smirk.
