A lump lodged in Viri’s throat as she petted the bunny’s soft head. “Thanks, Walnut,” she said quietly, but her gaze was on Jonas as she uttered the words. “Right back at you.”
Jonas smiled, his blue eyes misty behind his glasses. He launched himself at Reeve, careful to keep Walnut held safely out to the side of their embrace.
“You’ll be fine, buddy,” Reeve said, patting Jonas on the back. “It’s just lunch.”
A laugh bubbled out of Jonas, and he pulled back to punch Reeve in the arm. “I’m not worried aboutlunch.” He made a face. “I mean, I don’twantto go on a fake date, but it’s nothingcompared to what you’re doing. Come back safely, all right? And bring—” He cut himself off, his eyes shifting to Viri, almost fearfully. But he quickly coughed and finished, “Bring good news back with you.”
“That’s the plan,” Reeve said, giving Jonas a gentle push toward where Wynter was standing. “Now go. We’re on the clock.”
Jonas nodded and trailed obediently after Wynter, the two of them disappearing into the wayportal.
Viri blew out a breath. “And now we wait.”
“Always the worst part,” Reeve said, before gesturing to a set of fruit stalls bustling with customers a short distance away. “Let’s head over there. We’ll be able to see when they come back through, but we’ll blend in better and keep them from noticingus.”
Since the next part of their plan relied on Galennotbeing aware of what was happening, Viri followed Reeve to hide among the fruit-buying crowds, keeping her eyes peeled every time the wayportal activated. It was too noisy to hold a conversation—not that she had anything to say—so they wandered around the stalls and inspected the produce as if debating what to purchase. Soon enough, though, they were able to drop their acts, because Wynter and Jonas reappeared through the magestone arch with the tall, gangly Galen following close behind.
“That’s our cue,” Viri said once the three of them vanished deeper into the market. “Let’s go.”
Hurrying back to the wayportal, Viri leapt through first and guided it straight to the Summit, arriving outside the cold, clandestine walls of the Legal Guild. From there, it was only a short walk to the High Council offices and their glass-doored entry—something Viri normally appreciated for how transparentit implied the city leaders were, but today the see-through entrance just increased the risk of discovery. Thankfully, the councilors were already sequestered in their midday meeting, and since their assistants worked farther along the crisscrossing Summit tunnels, the risk was low that Viri and Reeve would run into anyone. Even so, they made sure the coast was clear before opening the glass doors, then dashed directly past Galen’s vacated desk to Sarielle’s office beyond it.
There, they encountered the first hiccup in their plan.
“It’s locked,” Viri whispered, jiggling the doorknob a few times to be sure. “Help me look for a key in Galen’s desk, or find something thin and sharp so I can pick it.”
“As much as I would love to watch you pick a lock—and trust me when I say I mean that”—Reeve’s expression was both curious and intrigued, with a hint of something else that made Viri fight a blush—“I have a better idea.”
He reached for the handle, and as he did so, Viri’s skin prickled as ellixen saturated the air. A second later, the door clicked open.
“You just—You just used magic,” she choked out, belatedly realizing she’d forgotten all about him knocking her out last night and her intent to interrogate him sooner—though in her defense, a lot had happened since then.
Reeve raised his hand and pressed his forefinger to his thumb. “Only a little.”
“You shouldn’t beableto—”
“Let’s discuss this inside, shall we?” he suggested, opening the door fully and looking pointedly around to remind her of where they were standing, and that anyone could see them.
It cost her, but Viri bit her tongue and hurried into Sarielle’soffice, finding comfort in the familiar space, from the soft-carpeted floor to the polished oak desk to the picturesque sight out the large, sealed window wall. Given how high up they were, the view was unparalleled, showing Aravell’s entire uppercity, the vastness of Lake Mirtis glistening in the midday sun, and even the shadowy Mistwood fading on the horizon. Viri shuddered as she realized her brother was out there somewhere, and that she would soon be venturing after him into the deadly forest, but she shoved the thought away and focused on the task at hand.
“Over here,” she said, heading to the door carved into the mountain wall to the left of Sarielle’s desk. This one wasn’t locked, but it was only when she opened it and was about to step into the storage room beyond that she realized Reeve wasn’t with her.
Turning back, she found him staring at a portrait on the wall, a gift from one of Aravell’s most renowned artists. The man had painted Sarielle with her arms around a much younger Wynter and Viri, the three of them smiling brightly. Viri had always cherished the depiction of their little family, their love for each other shining through the talented artistry, but a glance at Reeve revealed a strange, almost resentful look on his face. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking, whether he was upset at seeing her happy with Sarielle and Wynter, or whether it was his own demons he was battling, the fact that he, too, had found a second family—Viri’s—only to lose them along with his first, leaving him alone and on the run for seven years.
Part of her ached for him, but another part, a stronger part, remembered thathewas the one who had left. He could have stayed with her; they could have found their way together. Instead, he’d chosen Braedan. Whatever he was feeling now, he only had himself to blame.
“Reeve,” Viri called, her voice like a whip in the silence of the room. “Get your ass over here.”
He jolted from his thoughts and moved obediently toward her, his expression wiped clear of emotion as he followed her into the storeroom. But then a low whistle left his lips as he took in the multiple rows of floor-to-ceiling shelves bursting with boxes and files and haphazardly stacked papers, all illuminated by dim overhead everbeacons. It was nothing compared to the size of the Nox’s archives, but the room was still large and chaotic enough to present a time challenge.
“I didn’t expect it to be this spacious,” Reeve admitted. He peered around with a calculating expression. “Let’s go row by row—I’ll take the left side, you take the right. If the map and talisman are here, they’re probably still in the warded chest, maybe boxed up, so look for anything bulky.”
Viri nodded and followed him down the first row, trying not to think about what they were doing, the crime they were committing just by being there. The fear of discovery made her skin turn clammy, but she shoved away all thoughts of Underlock cells—and Sarielle’s disappointment—and got to work.
The aisle between the shelves was narrow, their elbows bumping as they stood back-to-back, inspecting anything that fit Reeve’s description. Soon enough, Viri realized she could ignore the filing cabinets to focus on the storage boxes alone, but most of those still contained paperwork, some marked confidential, others little more than accounting ledgers or stationery orders. The task was tedious and time-consuming, but she continued opening and closing boxes until finally she couldn’t contain her curiosity a moment longer.
“Tell me about the magic,” she said, not pausing what she was doing.
Reeve, too, continued reaching for new boxes, his tone unconcerned as he asked, “What do you want to know?”
