Glancing around, I spotted a barren courtyard garden of a library: empty and unguarded. Leaping the waist-high stone fence, I walked to the center of the garden and stared up at the roof, two stories above.
Percy followed, scrambling over the fence with somedifficulty. He rubbed his aching knees. “Are we taking a detour?”
“I have an idea,” I muttered, drawing my dagger and swiping it across my palm. Staring at the crimson pooling in my palm, I remembered the sight of eagles in flight.
And the joke Aethra had made. ‘You wouldn’t be able to make little blood wings, would you?’
The blood dripping from my hand soared to my back and unfolded into brilliant scarlet wings.
Percy marveled at the sight. “You’ve never donethatbefore.”
Extending the wings, I eyed the roof. What now? Did I just jump?
I should have asked Seraphim. She’d burst from the Therapnen Temple with wings of flame.
Stepping back, I gave myself space for a running start. I was sorely glad Eleos wasn’t present to see what happened next.
I made it perhaps five feet off the ground before I crashed into the dirt. Whisper ran to my side, licking my face to make sure I still lived. Laughing, Percy leaned over to offer me a hand. “Was that what you meant to do?”
“Not exactly.” Grabbing his hand, I dusted my coat off. “I’m going to have to practice that.”
“Eleos would love to watch.” Percy snickered. “But, an entrance like that wouldn’t have been exactly subtle.”
“It would have been quick. I prefer it that way.”
Percy snorted. “I’ll be sure to tell Aethra that.”
Wincing, I turned away and nodded to my hound. Whisper gave me one final lick before resuming his scouting. I followed him, flipping my hood up as I watched for patrols. Shockingly few men guarded these streets. Odd.
Whisper found a quiet path to the tower with ease. Growing suspicious, I searched for hidden signs of danger but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Several of the guards who’d accompanied the Oracle during her march stood guard around the front doors, but nowhere else.
“Pretty tower,” Percy whispered, “Where did all her guards go?”
“Good question,” I murmured. This had to be a trap.
A flowing channel of clear water surrounded the tower, andblossoming trees grew from flowerbeds. Crouching out of sight of the guards, I peered up at the balconies and windows, searching for a path inside.
Percy knelt beside me, voice hushed. “I have a bad feeling about this.”
The Oracle had never liked being followed by hordes of guards. Maybe she’d simply dismissed them. Touching Percy’s back, I silently ordered him to follow.
Sticking to the shadows cast by the trees and hedges, we circled around the fringes to reach the tower’s back entrance, where one lonely guard dozed at his post. Creeping past him, I fitted a lockpick into the door and jimmied it open, nodding at Whisper to hide nearby.
Finding a thick patch of flowers, the hound slipped into their midst and disappeared. Percy waved a hand in front of the sleeping guard’s eyes before following me inside.
The door shut behind us, sealing us in a quiet, dim hall. Only servants would be down here, but I didn’t hear their voices, nor see shadows moving in the rooms along this corridor.
No one barred our path to the grand hall. Stepping onto the sweeping stairwell, I touched the banister and searched one last time for traps.
Cursing under my breath, I flew up the steps, following the spiral staircase past the second floor. Finally, signs of life appeared in the tower, where a fire crackled in the third floor’s hearth. Spinning on my heel, I ducked back down the stairs.
Percy slammed his back against the banister, rather more dramatically than necessary. He made a few hand signals: strumming a lute, two fingers to mimic walking, and waving his thumb around.
Nodding, I agreed. He took two steps up the stairs before I grabbed his arm, hauling him back.
“Wait,” I whispered. “Duath Nun funeral rites aren’t like back home.”
Percy raised his eyebrows, surprised I understood thatdirgeswere his medium.
