“Right.”
Lorzok led their weaving steps around the square, raising his palm at the end of the sequence. He and Kell circled the spindle created from their arms meeting, palm to elbow.
“Did Saer Madenhal mention anything about the plan?”
“We have to go see it,” Lorzok said. “After this dance, we’ll need to sneak upstairs.”
Kell glanced at the stairs. One family climbed them together, and that was all. But the “Silver Arrow” and the “Fist of Dawn” going up for a look…What if someone asked why they had attended and Bastion Dawnshield and Serenity Surefingers had not?
“Kell?”
Kell clapped his hands against Lorzok’s. “Right. After this dance?”
“Has to be,” Lorzok said. “They’re closing it soon.”
Lorzok shuffled and hopped his way back to Jubilee, and Saeldian slipped back into his hold just in time for the last verse. They had no smiles for him. That cursing glare was back in their eyes the moment they settled into their floating, unthinking follow.
“I didn’t tell them about you.”
“So you claimed you stole the Storm Harp by yourself?”
“I didn’t tell them your name.” Kell slipped them into another cloak-step promenade, and Saeldian’s hand lay in his, soft as rose petals. “And you know that’s true, if you stop to think about it.”
That made Saeldian close their mouth on their retort. If Kell had named them, they wouldn’t be here right now. Kell guided their spin, and they landed back in his arms.
“Thank you.”
“I didn’t do it for you.”
Saeldian’s scowl smoothed almost immediately. “Right. Your shining, golden morality.”
Ten years ago, Kell hadn’t wanted to believe they would just leave him like that. He spun an escape plan from Wyrm’s Rock and expected them to be halfway through their own rescue. After Kell got free, he wondered if Saeldian had left signs showing which way they’d gone. There were none at the villa, at their favorite inn, or at the docks.
Saeldian didn’t come to rescue him. They didn’t leave a mark to follow. They had vanished, and finally, it had sunk in: Saeldian had left him to die.
Saeldian spun out of his hold to stamp three times and clap, folding into his arms when they joined to dance spinning circles. Their neutrality was flawless—they followed Kell’s cues as if they could read his mind. “You should try it, you know. Maybe if you put someone’s needs above your own, the world wouldn’t end after all.”
No one could see Saeldian’s instant rejection, but he felt it rustle down their spine. “Really! What an idea. What do you know so far?”
“Lorzok and Jubilee filled me in. You’re right, I have to see it. We can make it upstairs unseen. What then?”
“Head upstairs and take a wander around by the art,” Saeldian said. “There’s a spot we can use to hide while they close the exhibit.”
“And reset the traps.”
“If we’re lucky, we’ll see how they did it.”
“Do you think anyone besides Fimmelden designs them now?”
“It doesn’t matter who designed it. A lock is made to open. The key only matters in clumsy hands.”
The song ended with virtue triumphing over spite and gossip. The maligned maiden and her beloved were united to dance together in marriage, to smile for all their days. Saeldian stamped out the last triple, clapped their hands three times in stingy applause, and hooked their arm in Jubilee’s, strolling to the stairs.
Lorzok followed Kell to the exit leading to the comfort room, and together they snuck up the staircase most people had come down.
They had aone in two chance of picking the wrong staircase, and they had. Kell hardly dared to breathe as Lady Tarm and her attendants climbed the stairs before them, as if too deep a breath would shatter Lorzok’s and Saeldian’s spells. Four maids continued up the stairs with Lady Elezia, but the rest stood on the landing, backs turned, and settled thick blindhoods over their heads. They were close enough to slap on the shoulder, but none of them acted like anything was amiss.
Lorzok had blown a pinch of ashes into the corner of the north staircase landing and cast a spell that would dim them from anyone’s notice. Saeldian gathered them into the corner and cast an illusion that would make the landing look empty—as long as they didn’t create too many places where the shadows weren’t right or where the perspective was odd.
