“I’m finished.”
I’ve already ascertained that, like Cassia’s quarters, Antony’s rooms have two entrances. One into the main tower, and the other to an external platform. “Will Azul carry us?”
“Not this time,” he says, stepping toward the door that leads into the tower itself, pausing for me to follow him. “It’s safer if we take a more direct and less public route to the library.”
I wait for him to open the door, but he pauses for a moment, his back to me. Then he reaches for a panel in the wall. It isn’t concealed, sitting above a small table, the panel appearing almost like a painting on the wall.
The panel clicks open at his touch, revealing a compartment from which he withdraws a small chest. Removing his glove, he opens the chest with his bare hand before he places it down onto the table.
Sliding the assassin’s dagger from the holder at his waist, he places it into the chest before snapping the box closed and returning it to the chamber in the wall.
“You don’t want to take that with you?” I ask, wondering if it could be useful.
He taps the axe he always carries on his back. “I have this. Better to keep the knife safe for now. I’m certain it holds clues about who sent the assassin afteryou.”
And after my father. A fate that, terrifyingly, he didn’t foresee.
I fight the dread building within me at the reminder that all it took to end his life—the Oracle’s life—was a simple knife.
Antony doesn’t seem to miss my tension, his head tilting, but his voice is low and soft. “Let them come, Thyra. You know I won’t let them touch you.”
My stomach flutters, warmth growing in my chest.
After he opens the door, holding it wide for me to step out into the empty corridor, his arm brushes my lower back, the lightest touch through my armor, reminding me of the torturous tingles that spread through my body only moments ago.
It's nearly impossible to focus away from Antony, but I force myself to assess our surroundings: not a guard is in sight.
Trying to steady my voice, I ask, “Are there normally guards along these corridors, or is it usually this quiet?”
“This is unusual,” Antony replies. “No doubt another one of Mother’s games.”
He points me to the left. “This way.”
I step along the wide corridor, expecting Antony to remain behind me like he normally does, but he keeps pace with me, a looming presence at my side.
After we pass multiple hallways leading off from both the left and right, my steps slow because it seems we’re headed toward a dead end.
A small alcove sits directly ahead, the kind that might contain a decorative vase or scroll, but this one is as empty as the corridor.
“Did I miss a turn?” I ask, uncertain why Antony would have let me keep walking.
He moves ahead of me for once, stepping into the narrow space. “This alcove provides access to a labyrinth of tunnelsand chambers beneath the Constellation. We can use them to get to the library.”
I take a glance around in case someone’s watching us after all, but Antony adds, “This entrance isn’t a secret. Most highborn know about it. But only the current king can safely use it.”
He pulls off his metal glove to press his palm against the wall at the back of the alcove, at which point the entire panel slides open.
I can’t see anything beyond the opening. Only pure darkness. An unknown abyss that raises the hairs on my arms beneath my dress.
My foreboding only heightens when Antony warns me. “Never try to enter this place without me. I need to carry you so that the protective spell around the door treats you like an object I’m bringing with me.”
I scowl at being treated like an ‘object’, but I’m wary of the tension pulling at the corners of his eyes. If I hadn’t seen him multiple times without a helmet, I might not have noticed it, but now it gives me pause.
“What happens if the magic doesn’t treat me like an object?”
“You don’t have to worry about that.” He slips his glove back on and holds out his arms. “Come here.”
I step toward him, my heart in my throat, but I remind myself he’s gone to great lengths to keep me alive. He won’t throw that all away now.
