Nocturna (A Forgery of Magic #1)(27)

She walked until she found a ladder. Rung by rung she climbed in the dark, carrying the lit torch in her mouth like a dog would a bone. Sweating, she climbed until she got to the seventh-floor passage. The passage that led to the prince’s chambers couldn’t be reached directly from where she was. She would need to move through a bathroom to get to the passageway on the far side of the room. Then she’d have a direct route to the prince’s quarters.

Finn pulled open the slat and peered in. She saw a grand, sweeping bathroom with a sunken bathtub of black stone that was more like a pool. Around the rim was an assortment of soaps, lotions, and two bottles of wine. There were five different faucets, as elegant as swans’ necks, arching over the lip of the tub. What could you need five faucets for? And who drank while taking a bath? She rolled her eyes. Royals.

Warm, perfumed air wafted through the slat, but no one was in the tub. The surface was covered in the sudsy remains of a bubble bath. She waited, counting the seconds to see if someone had gone under. Nobody could hold their breath for that long.

There was no use in waiting any longer. Someone had likely just gotten out of the bath, and she had only a few precious minutes to find the passageway on the far side of the room before a servant came to clean. She twisted the bird on the wall and the passage swung outward. She scurried out and pushed it closed behind her. She felt naked—there was too much space and too little to hide behind. A voice called out from the tub, shattering the silence.

“Rosa, I’m ready.”

Finn and her shadow froze where she stood behind the tub faucets. Her eyes darted down. She hadn’t seen the boy because his body was hidden by the froth of bubbles. He kept his eyes closed. What a fool—she could kill him right now.

“Rosa!” he called a bit louder. “The hot towel, please!”

Finn nearly ran back to the wall, but whoever was supposed to be serving him had apparently stepped out. If he shouted one more time they might hear him or he might open his stupid eyes and notice a thief standing over him.

Finn clambered to the fine dish of steaming towels beside the lip of the tub where the boy leaned his head. She picked one up and draped it carefully over his eyes.

“Gracias.” He luxuriated in the water and breathed a long, dramatic sigh. “I’m trying to get as relaxed as I can, so that I don’t wring Alfie’s neck when I see him next. The wine’s for that too.” He reached a soapy hand out of the tub, grabbed the bottle, and took a swig. “He has me so maldito worried about him that I’m tense. Me! Do you know how hard it is to get me tense? The palace masseuse could barely work out the knots in my neck.” He paused, wrinkling his nose. “Rosa, did you stop by the kitchens? You smell like you’ve bathed in oregano.”

Finn didn’t answer him. She dashed across the room and looked for the bird in the tiled walls. Each tile was patterned, making it difficult to see something as small as the bird would be. She wiped her face with the back of her hand. The steam clung to her skin.

“Rosa? You’re still there, aren’t you?” He raised his hand to take the towel off his eyes.

From the far side of the room, Finn gave a high-pitched “Mm-hmm!” The boy dropped his hand back into the water.

“Did you strain your voice?” he asked.

Scouring the wall in a panic, Finn gave a loud cough and said, “Mm-hmmm.”

“Something’s been going around. The steam will do you good. Clear the passages.”

If only she could find the maldito passages.

She heard footsteps beyond the double doors of the bathroom. Rosa was coming! Finn got on all fours, searching the tiles below her waist. There it was! A tiny bird jutted out no higher than her knee. Finn crouched and twisted it. A square of eight tiles pushed outward. She crawled into the darkness of the passage and hurriedly shut the door behind her. With a shuddering breath, she stood up, her hair frizzing from the steam.

She opened the slat, and there was Rosa picking up the boy’s clothes.

That was too close. This whole thing was too close.

Finn moved through the passages, peering at the map as she walked. She was passing a room labeled on the map as “Fallen Prince’s Rooms” when she paused. Finn had been far from the capital city when the prince had been killed. But she still remembered people weeping in the streets as if they’d known him. She’d been too busy trying to survive to shed a maldito tear.

Still, curiosity gnawed at her. Finn slid aside the slat and stared into the room. The curtains were drawn. Darkness swept through the room. Finn felt around the wall and found the little bird peeking out of the stone, twisting it until the passage swung outward.

Inside the room was a double bed swathed in deep red sheets and a mountain of pillows. Against the wall before the bed was a tall, glass-paned cupboard. It was full of beautifully carved figurines of animals. Whoever had made them must have been truly skilled. One figure of a dog chasing its own tail looked as if it would start spinning in the cabinet at any moment.

In the bottom row of the cabinet was a fox figurine. It sat up, its tail curled forward, a clever look on its face. Finn smiled and caught her reflection in the glass, just as vulpine as the fox. The memory of the boy in the fox mask flashed in her mind. He may have bested her once, but he was too soft to be a fox. Finn had the edge for it.

She opened the case and filched it, dropping it into her pocket. She hadn’t stolen a machete, so she’d let herself have this trifle. As she stepped back into the passage, her eyes scanned the room one last time. She knew it belonged to a dead man, but still, there was something particularly sad about the room. As if it were waiting for him to come home to it. But there was no time to think on that. Finn walked into the darkness and moved on.