I try my best to sound normal. “What?”
“Why’d you stop? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m just…” I glance down at myself. I have to havesomethingI can throw. Then I realize. The laces of this ridiculous leather shirt dangle down my front. I can cut them up, use those. “…changing tactics.”
More rustling comes from the sphere, as if Amriel is sitting up again. “Changing tactics? No. Why? What you were doing was working just fine.”
I pull out my dagger and saw off half a dozen bits of leather lacing. They won’t roll the way the pebbles did, which means I’ll have to creep along, tossing a new one in the air every foot or so.
But I’m close. I can do this.
“It’s fine.” My throat tightens, and I force a swallow. Next time, I’ll bring more rocks. “Don’t worry. Just let me concentrate.”
“Just let you…” His voice is strained. “No. I need you to wait. Okay? Don’t move again until I say so.”
A frown steals across my mouth. I glance down at my orb, but hemust have pressed his to his chest, or covered it with something, because it shows only darkness. “What am I waiting for?”
“Justwait,” he snaps. Then, a moment later, “Please.”
It’s thepleasethat shocks me into complying, plaintive to the point of vulnerability. I wait, peering into an orb that shows me nothing, listening as a door creaks and footsteps sound, heavy and quick, as if he’s scaling a flight of stairs.
Long moments tick by as he climbs and climbs and climbs. Where is he going? To the solarium, maybe, but why?
“Amriel?”
“I’m almost there.” Tension thrums in his voice. Another door creaks. More footsteps, then silence. Theshushof something opening and closing. Wood against wood, maybe? I can’t tell for sure.
Then the orb flares, granting me a new view of him sitting at his desk in the solarium. I can’t see much more than his face, his shoulders. But now true sunlight bathes his features, illuminating the bruised shadows beneath his eyes, the lines carved beside his mouth. The way his eyes have gone bloodshot and his golden skin has paled to ash.
“Goddess,” I say, before I can stop myself. “When did you last sleep?Haveyou slept?”
His gaze skitters away. “I never can,” he says roughly. “I told you that already.”
I draw a breath and hold it, because this seems like something more. I’ve never seen him look this ragged, this strained.
And for a moment, just one, I wonder if I should have stayed.
Then I sweep the thought from my mind, because what? Of course not.
My fingers curl into fists, pressing into the floor as I smooth my emotions to a calm, blank surface. I need to get through this, to get out of this horrible room. I can’t afford to think of anything else. “Can I go now?”
He doesn’t blink. “Yes. You can go.”
I nod and inch onto an ascending stairwell, one of two ways I can proceed. A few shuffles in, I toss a scrap of leather, which arcs gently downward. Normal gravity. I creep up the stairs, tossing bits of lacing, again and again.
At the top, a scrap goes flying upward, and I crane my neck. A wide landing hovers directly above me—the corresponding, upside-down mirror of the one that led me in.
My exit. If I can reach it, I’ll be free to walk out.
But the drop is further than any I’ve endured so far—eight or nine feet, probably. Enough to jar me, maybe sprain a knee. Maybe break something if I land badly.
I glance back. Around. I could always backtrack, see if another stairway will get me closer, but…
Ugh. I’ve already used more time than I can afford, and there’s no guarantee I’ll find another route.
I swallow hard, girding myself. Best to just risk it.
I flip onto my back and shimmy up the next stair. Amriel’s breath scrapes across the silence, his inhales shallow, almost painful, and the oddest thought floats to me from nowhere. Do our hearts beat in time, even now?
