matter could occupy so much of his time, but then I noticed something tucked beside one of the trunks. It hadn’t been there before. I sat up, curious. A dusty bedroll? I got up and walked closer. It was mine. My bedroll! And beneath it, my saddlebag!
How did they get here? Had Eben also secreted these away before they were sold at market? I grabbed my saddlebag and dumped it out on the bed, the contents flying. The beaded scarf Reena gave me, my brush, my tinderbox, the crumbled remains of the chiga weed—everything—including the ancient texts I had stolen, still tucked in their leather sleeves. My mood transformed from frustrated to jubilant in an instant. Even the simplest item like the string of leather to tie back my hair brought me joy, things that were mine and not borrowed or bought with the Komizar’s coin. But especially the books. I quickly tucked them under the mattress of the bed in case anyone thought of taking them back.
I shook out my bedroll and lifted the cloak, still tied up with string, that the vagabond women had given me in case the weather turned. The days and nights had been so warm across the savanna I’d had no need of it except as an occasional pillow. I pulled the string free and threw the cloak around my shoulders, savoring its warmth, but especially cherishing those who gave it to me, remembering the blessings they sent with me, even little Natiya’s angry wish for harm to come to Kaden’s teeth. I smiled. The cloak felt like their arms around me once again. I grabbed a fistful of fabric and held it to my cheek, soft and the color of a midnight forest—
And the color of dark weathered stone.
There was one more window—the one in the chamber closet. I ran to it. Maybe with the dark cover of a cloak, that one would be far enough out of view of the guards that I might slip out unnoticed. In my rush, I slid on the braided rug in the tiny room and fell against the rough stone wall. I rubbed my bruised shoulder, cursing the tear I’d made in Kaden’s shirt. I went to the window and peeked out. A guard looked up and nodded, as if he expected my recurring appearances. Kaden must have warned them to keep a close eye on all windows of his room. I grumbled out a low, angry oath as I smiled and waved back. I stooped to smooth out the skewed rug and noticed a slightly wider gap between the floor planks. Cold air seeped through the crack. I pushed the rug aside and saw that the line continued around in a perfect square. At one end was an embedded iron ring. The Sanctum is riddled with abandoned passageways.
This was how he did it.
I hadn’t slept through the screeching hinges of the door. He’d made a silent exit this way. My heart hammered as I reached for the ring. I pulled, and the floor lifted up. Iron levers smoothly unfolded beneath the planks to reveal a black hole and the barely visible beginnings of a staircase. Thick air, dusty and ancient, crawled upward, chilling the small room.
It was an escape. But to what? I leaned over, peering into the black hole, but the stairs disappeared into oblivion. Some with deadly drops.
I shook my head and started to shut the trapdoor, then stopped.
If Kaden could go down and come out on the other side, so could I. I hiked up the cloak and swung my feet down to the first stair. I positioned the heavy rug back over the trapdoor so it would fall back into place when I closed it, but finding the will to close it behind me took some time. I finally took a deep breath and let it drop.
The stairs were steep and narrow. My hands glided along the stone walls on either side to help me feel my way down, sometimes passing through what I could only imagine were enormous spiderwebs. I suppressed a shiver and reminded myself of all the webs I had swept away at the inn. Harmless, Lia. Small, Lia. Compared to the Komizar, innocent little creatures. Keep going.
Step after step, I saw nothing but deep suffocating black. I blinked, almost unsure if my eyes were open. I sensed the staircase curve, my left foot finding greater purchase on the step than the right, and then after a dozen