The Library of Fates(69)

By now, we had left the lofty avenues and lush gardens of the capital. The sun was setting over the seedy part of town we had ventured into. In the distance, I could see the clear blue of the ocean, and docks with wooden ships bobbing on the surface of the water, like toys left behind by a careless child.

Before us were crumbling buildings made of stone and streets that looked as though they had been deserted for centuries. The buildings here were low and squat, made of stone that had been overtaken by moss. They looked dark and imposing.

We followed Sikander through a maze of cobblestone streets that smelled like salt and fish. It occurred to me during this walk that I was trusting Sikander, of all people, as he navigated us through the empty lanes. Broken bottles and bits of scrap metal and wood littered the cobblestone, and the town was so quiet, our footsteps echoed in the alleys.

Finally, the empty streets gave way to a line of shops selling metal scraps and parts for boats.

“This is where you’ve taken us?” Thea asked.

“Patience is a virtue,” Sikander called back at us, and I hoped he was right.

We turned down a dark alleyway and then another, arriving at a building with a conspicuously red door. The door was flanked by two windows that were muzzled by metal grills. Sikander knocked on the door three times.

Finally a gruff voice. “Who is it?”

“Emperor Amyntas is a fool,” Sikander said loudly, and the door was opened by a short, balding man who smiled at us with broken teeth.

“Right this way, sir,” he said to Sikander.

Sikander tipped the man a coin, and we walked through the drawing room of someone’s home, the walls a pale pink, a settee in one corner and a forlorn-looking table with no chairs in another. Dusty, stained lace curtains hung from the windows.

“Come this way.” Sikander gestured to us to keep moving, and we walked through the small house. At the back, behind a filthy kitchen, was another door.

Sikander opened it, leading us to a courtyard enclosed by four stone walls.

Across from us was the stone exterior of another building. The entrance to it was a yellow door. Sikander opened it, and we emerged in some sort of abandoned factory. The bones of a large ship sat squarely in the middle of a high-ceilinged room, and we walked past it as though this was an everyday occurrence.

“What is this place anyway?” Thala asked.

“It’s the old ship factory. Or at least it used to be. Now they make few ships. But it’s the center of Macedon’s nightlife.”

“That’s so obvious,” Thea quipped, and we all laughed nervously. “Sikander, my parents had better be able to find me tomorrow if they need to,” she called out.

“Is it true your parents are revolutionaries?” I blurted out, and Thea smiled.

“I wish they were. They’re part of the country’s aristocracy. They have a . . . complicated relationship with Sikander’s father . . . a friendly rivalry.” She smiled at him.

“So they tell us . . . as they bicker with one another at state dinners. But my family has been entangled with Thea’s for generations.” Sikander shrugged. “Just one big, warring, feuding, loving family.” He smiled.

Thea nodded her head and turned back to me. “My parents . . . they’ve spent years questioning the leadership of our country. They believe in equality and justice for all. They don’t like the rigid hierarchy of Sikander’s father’s government, and after all, a governing body can’t be run by a single man . . . or at least, that’s what they tell him. They want a more democratic Macedon.”

“But unfortunately, my father is a megalomaniac.” Sikander shrugged. “Still, he can’t get rid of them, because they’re old aristocracy, and they’re the only thing between him and a revolution.”

“A revolution would be good for this country,” Thea went on. “I fear my family is all talk, all concessions. They haven’t really made a dent in the way things are run here. Maybe it’s on me to carry on their legacy, to actually do something for Macedon’s people.”

“Now, she should be the leader of Macedon,” Sikander said, pointing to Thea, a smile on his face so wide that I was embarrassed by how obviously he loved her.

I tried, in my mind, to make sense of what exactly went wrong, when or how things went awry for Chandradev, Thea, and Sikander. They all appeared to get along so well—could it really have been Chandradev and Thea’s relationship that broke them apart?

By now, we had approached another large metal door with a massive handle. This time, I could hear loud drumbeats coming from behind it.

Chandradev stepped forward, pulling at the large handle with both hands. The door finally opened, and we were standing in the middle of a raucous party. Purple, green, and blue lanterns were suspended from string that hung far above us, and beyond those, just the sky. Women spun around wildly, wearing brightly colored bandeaux and skirts. Bodies writhed on the dance floor as music echoed off the walls, making my heart race faster.

Sikander led us through the mass of bodies to the other side of the packed courtyard to yet another door guarded by a large man. He whispered something to the man, who nodded at us. Sikander gestured for us to follow him.

We followed the large man up a circular flight of stairs for at least five stories. I was practically out of breath when we arrived at a place where I could see the sky again.