But they let me go.
He was right earlier. This really is insane. But it feels good to finally feel as though I’mdoingsomething. The palace wall isn’t meant to be scaled, but it’s full of tiny footholds and narrow ledges, and I know them all by heart. I reach my old window in less than a minute, taking hold of the wrought iron railing that surrounds my balcony. The window is opaque with darkness, but I hook a leg and hang there, holding my breath, listening, watching for any sign of movement.
Nothing.
I finish climbing the railing, then slide my hands along the window, feeling for the latch that’s just a bit loose. It gives with a lightsnap.
And then I’m back in the palace.
It’s so surreal that I freeze there for a long moment, taking in the familiar shadows, the scent of vanilla and oranges from the oil the cleaners use, the way the moonlight strikes the walls. I could close my eyes and imagine it’s a month ago and my brother is down the hall.
But a month ago, nothing was better. Not really.
I spur myself into motion. I have a length of rope at the bottom of my chest at the foot of my bed, and I head right for it.
Something scrapes against the wall behind me, and I whip around, my heart in my throat.
It’s Saeth. He’s a little breathless, and he gives me a look. “I don’t think I would have believed that if I didn’t see it myself,” he says a bit ruefully. “But one of us had to follow you.”
I nod and dig the rope free. “Toss this to Thorin and Quint.”
Once he does and we’re all in my room, we barely speak. Quint’s quarters aren’t far from my own, and they’re our first goal, and then if we’re successful in making it that far, we’ll attempt to reach the throne room to see if we can secure some of the explosives that are supposedly hidden in the walls. It’s very late, so no servants should be in the hallways, but we have no idea what guards will be.
For the first time, I’m glad we brought Thorin and Saeth. They each have a crossbow strapped to their back, but they unstrap them now. They head into the hallway first, with us tucked tightly behind.
To my complete and utter shock, there are no guards atall.
But then I realize how completely foolish I’ve been. Of course there are no guards. There’s no one heretoguard. I’m gone. Corrick is gone. Quint is gone. Even Tessa is gone. With the king absent, there are no high-ranking political guests, no dignitaries, no one to impress.
“Do you think the whole floor is empty?” I whisper to Quint.
“It certainly seems so,” he breathes. “I didn’t expect quite this level of . . . emptiness.”
He’s right. It does seem empty.
And so do his quarters, when we reach them.
Quint stops in the doorway and stares. His entire room is completely bare, like an unused suite. I rarely had occasion to visit his quarters, but I do remember they were always in a bit of disarray: books and papers always haphazardly stacked on his desk, an odd jacket thrown over the back of a chair, pens and pencilseverywhere. He had bookcases lining the walls, and I do know he had dozens of shelves bearing the books he was always filling with the notes he took. Now there’s nothing. Just a wall.
For an instant, he’s silent. I don’t even think he’s breathing.
Then he draws a shuddering breath.
It’s my turn to put a hand on his shoulder.
He shifts to look at me. “They took everything.”
Likelydestroyedeverything, but I don’t say that. He probably doesn’t need me to. This room wouldn’t have been emptied otherwise.
This is another dead end.
His breath gives another tremor. “We have—this is—” His voice hardens with frustration. “The consuls arelying. They’re lying about everything. Without my records, you have no way to prove the truth.”
My heart gives a tug. I move close and speak right to his ear. “Weknow the truth, Quint.”
His eyes stare back into mine—and he nods. But his eyes are still full of sorrow.
I press a hand to his cheek. “This isn’t a failure.”
