“Perhaps this is about more than just the palace,” I say. “Maybe it’s about all of Amyria.”
My friend approaches. “How so?”
“Of all the hills in this valley, why choose this one? Why not build the capital closer to the fertile lands of the riverbanks and fresh water supply like the other cities? In a kingdom surrounded by sand, what is more important than access to fresh food and water?”
Lila sucks in a breath. “Whatever brought them here. Whatever they built Versara around.”
“But you say there are no entrances into whatever may lie at the center of the Pith.”
“That we know of.” Her eyes widen. “Like…like the way the Reign fae hide the lounge.”
“So no one can access it. Except for Reign fae.”
Lila cups her hand around my ear, despite us being alone, for fae hearing is too sensitive. “Perhaps that is the point. That the thing at the center of the Pith can also no longer access us.”
When I shiver, she leans into me. I lean into her in return.
Our lives may be short, but memories pass along, inherited, reshaping into legends with time. Someone must know something.
It may be useless to Kassandra. Or it may be the biggest secret of all, the best piece of blackmail.
In this moment, sitting in contented silence with Lila, I suddenly don’t care. Panic and hope entwine painfully in my chest like sharp ivy, for today I feel less alone. I will work to strengthen this connection with Lila night in and night out, something I have not made the effort to earn in a very long time.
Today I made a friend.
A friend who wants to wander into the dark of the maze, too.
Chapter Twenty-four
I exit the storage room, clutchingthe new uniform to my chest, to see a stout halfling in a black teller’s tunic waiting for me in the hall. Only a day has passed since Lila and I spent all of her free time chatting before she departed for her shift. Eli and I met for one more Healing session to fully repair the wound. My shift restarts tomorrow, and the bloodied silk of my other uniform had been beyond saving.
The halfling clasps his hands behind his back. His tan skin has only just started to mature, with crinkles around his bespectacled silver eyes, matching the silver threaded through his dark hair.
“Avery, Night Crest of both House Illusion and Reign?”
“Yes?”
“You may call me Silas. I’m a teller for the creditor’s counter at Illusion. There’s been atypical activity on your account, and I thought it best to go over it with you.”
“Oh.” I clutch the unstained silk to my chest. “Yes, of course.”
With his own golden ring, Silas laces us from Reign to the Nest back at Illusion, the smell of watery broth curling in the air. We pass the creditor’s counter, a short line of faeries waiting to check their balances. The teller stops before a plain wooden door around the corner. The lock clicks, opening to a small office.
Inside, the space has a few cabinets, and a table and chairs inthe center, with a blank piece of parchment. I force myself to exhale, fingers tightening around the fabric.
“Was there some sort of mistake on my part?” I ask.
“Oh, not at all.” Silas reaches for the cabinet on the opposite wall, taking out a tray with teacups and herbs, and gestures for me to sit. I catch a glimpse of small pantry items and think it pays to be a teller—to have a private lunch.
The chair squeaks against the floor as I settle into it. The sweat on my palms leaves faint imprints on the gold fabric. I wipe my hands on my cotton dress as he hands me a cup.
“I’m afraid we don’t have a kettle in here,” he says. “So you’ll need to heat the water yourself, or I can do it, if your magic doesn’t extend that far.”
“Thank you, but I’ve been practicing firework.”
Every hour that I’m alone, and since I haven’t gone back to work yet, it has been many hours.
I reach for the cup, conjuring the feeling of ire; a rush of breath, and my tea warms. “So what’s this about, may I ask?”
