Fireblood (Frostblood Saga #2)(60)

“But it’s only fair to warn you,” he added, “it won’t be easy to draw the guards from their post. If you’re caught, you will have to explain yourself to the masters and to the queen. I don’t think you want to have to do that. Do you?”

My hands fisted at my sides. I didn’t like being pushed. “I told you, I came to practice.”

He ignored that. “In only a few more days, you could have had legitimate access to everything here. But alas, you might have failed your second trial. So here you are now.”

Fear fluttered in my stomach. If he accused me in front of the masters, it was his word against mine.

When I said nothing, his hand sliced the air angrily. “If you continue to waste time, you’ll run out. When you realize that, come see me.”

He turned and disappeared into the dark. It took several minutes for my breathing to return to normal. My mind raced with questions, but they would have to wait. The night was slipping away. I opened my palms, set the practice dummies alight, then ran into the darkened hallway. Pitching my voice lower, I called out, “Fire!” and waited.

The guards rustled into wakefulness, moving from their post to follow the light from the merrily crackling practice dummies. As they ran to the well for a bucket of water, I slid through the dark and up to the library door.

It took a second to unlock, and I was inside. The door scraped the floor as I closed it, reassuring me that no light would bleed into the hallway. I lit a fire in my palm, using it to light four lanterns hanging from hooks.

Bookshelves ran in two rows with a central aisle. Each shelf had a lectern—a shelf that jutted out at waist height—and benches faced the lecterns. The books were all chained so they could be consulted here, but not removed.

There were hundreds of books and scrolls piled on shelves. Fortunately, during my training I’d chatted with some of the masters and gleaned information that hopefully seemed innocuous, expressing a love of books and asking about the libraries in Sudesia. Master Cendric had explained that there was a catalog, a master list of all books, and beside each title, a system of numbers and letters that marked a book’s position on a shelf. I found the catalog easily, a narrow book laid open on a lectern near the door. I held up a lantern and drew my finger down the list, looking for Pernillius the Wise.

There. It was here! Excitement sizzled through me. I checked the shelf and lectern numbers and found the correct spot.

The book wasn’t there. I double-checked the catalog, then the shelf. It wasn’t where it should be.

I moved to the other shelves and yanked out book after book. I knew the school’s routines by now, and I was running out of time. Before dawn, prayers would start, and the guards would change. That would be my only chance to leave. After that, the school would be too busy.

In my panic, I knocked my elbow against a shelf full of scrolls. Some of them fell to the floor. As I was picking them up, I saw the word throne on one and stopped to unfurl it. It looked like a schedule, with days and times. The title read, “Guard Schedule—Throne,” and the dates were from just last week. But I hadn’t seen a single master guarding Queen Nalani’s throne room. Unless it was only at night…? No, the schedule on the scroll was round-the-clock.

Which suggested another possibility: Was there another throne room?





SIXTEEN



I SPENT THE NEXT DAY SEARCHING the castle for the throne of Sud, chasing my theory that there was another throne room hidden somewhere. I covered every square inch, aside from private bedchambers, and found nothing. As I stomped back to my room, I avoided eye contact with the courtiers and servants, filling the corridors and stairwells with the black cloud of my mood.

I’d made too many assumptions! Perhaps I had simply failed to notice the guards in Queen Nalani’s throne room. The throne on the schedule could be a code for something else. I was so desperate for answers, I was conjuring them from thin air.

I didn’t have the book. I hadn’t passed my trials. I had no idea what my next step should be.

Tired and dejected, I asked Ada to have supper sent to my room, where I sat on the edge of the bed, leaning against one of the corner posts. I was almost desperate enough to approach Prince Eiko, to ask him what he’d meant about our so-called common interest, to risk telling him everything. At this point, any action, no matter how dangerous, would feel better than doing nothing.

Shortly after Ada dropped off a tray of food, Kai showed up. He was dressed in a loose white shirt, left open at the throat, and his usual dark breeches.

“Having a picnic?” Kai said as he motioned to the untouched supper tray I’d set on the end of my bed. “How pastoral. I’ve brought the most important part of any meal. The wine.” He held up a bottle.

Wine felt too celebratory. “I’m fine with water.”

He grimaced. “Very well. But I’m having wine.”

“Suit yourself.”

We sat on either side of the foot of my bed, taking sips. I was glad he had come. His presence gave me a focus outside of the doubt and confusion fogging my mind.

“So about tomorrow’s trial,” Kai said, twirling his goblet idly.

“Tomorrow’s trial?” I sat up. “They’re still letting you take yours even though I failed?”

I finally looked at him closely. How had I missed that Kai was bursting to tell me news? He radiated suppressed energy, practically vibrating with excitement.