“But I asked you not to tell him.” I finally look at him. “I needed time, Theron. I needed to figure—”
“How much time do you think we have?” Theron’s brow pinches, and I know he’s trying not to show his frustration. “How long do you think Angra will give us before—”
“Angra is dead,” Sir cuts in. “You did this to fortify us against an evil that isn’t even here?”
Theron’s face sets. “I did it so that no matter what evils arise, we will never be outmatched again.”
The doors to the palace open and Noam leads us through the entryway, down a hall, and into a study. When the door closes behind us, Noam stops in the middle of the room and locks his arms behind his back, not bothering to face us yet. Theron steps forward while Sir presses his fists into the back of one of the couches, caving in on himself as he tries to assess the situation. And I move to the window, the glass smudged and dirty but still showing a view of the palace’s courtyard and Jannuari beyond.
“We found a door,” Theron begins when the silence lingers. “In the Tadil Mine. It was carved with scenes—vines on fire, a stack of books, a mask, and light hitting a mountain with the words ‘The Order of the Lustrate’ around it. The first three had keyholes in the center, but we couldn’t move closer to study them. There’s a barrier that blocks anyone from approaching.”
I know that tone. The slight air of distraction, like his mind rolls through things faster than his mouth can say them. I turn, and sure enough, Theron gazes absently into the air as he talks. He got the same look in Gaos when he stared at the tapestry—and me.
I fall against the wall.
That’s where I’ve seen the Order of the Lustrate’s seal before. In Bithai, Theron got this same look on his face when he helped me decipher that maddening book, Magic of Primoria.
The beam of light hitting a mountaintop—it was on the cover.
I find myself dangling on the precipice of asking Hannah about this, but that instinct shatters against my abrupt realization that she still isn’t here. My mind is only mine.
I brace for a flood of missing her, but all that comes is a small, selfish knot of relief. I’m happy to be the only one in my head again.
Shouldn’t I miss her, though?
Noam turns. “Is that all?”
Theron nods. “Yes. I returned once, after we found it.” He rubs his shoulder, wincing like it pains him. “The barrier is . . . persistent. Each time someone tries to pass, it throws them against the wall. And there’s nothing else down there.”
I don’t have it in me to be hurt that he went to study the door without telling me.
The Order of the Lustrate wrote the book I read in Bithai months ago. Most of it was cryptic scrawling or riddles, but maybe there’s something in it that could be useful now.
I instantly groan. There’s no way I could get it, not without alerting Noam to its importance. I could send someone to steal it from Bithai, but even when I had it, I needed Theron’s help to figure out any of its passages. Maybe Sir or Dendera would be better equipped at deciphering centuries-old riddles?
“The carvings,” Theron tells Noam, easing around the couches to stand in front of him. “We can’t open the door now, but I think—I think the carvings could lead us to a way.”
I straighten, eyes hard on Theron.
“How so?” Noam asks.
Theron exhales. “The whole place feels like a secret, but I think whoever made it wanted it to be opened. But not easily. Something like that should be difficult to open, and if I had set it up, I would have made it so only the worthy could access that much power.”
Noam stays quiet, his arms folded.
“I think the carvings hold clues.” Theron slides a paper out of his pocket and unfolds it, showing Noam as he talks. “I drew them as best I could. Vines on fire, books in a pile, a mask. On the surface, they seem unrelated—but they do have one thing in common.”
Noam finally loses his patience. “So help me, if you—”
“Each symbolizes a kingdom in Primoria. Vines on fire—Summer, their vineyards and their heat. Books in a pile—Yakim, their knowledge. A mask—Ventralli, their masks and art. What else could it be? I think these symbols are meant to lead us to a way to open the chasm. I propose we put together a caravan to visit these three kingdoms and see if my suspicions are correct,” Theron finishes.
Summer, Yakim, and Ventralli? I keep my face as blank as I can, but inside, unease takes root in my stomach. A Season and two Rhythms? Why would the Order hide the keys in those three kingdoms? Could it be that easy?
Theron certainly thinks so. And he has proven rather useful when it comes to deciphering cryptic things.
“But where?” Noam waves his hand west, in the general direction of Summer, Yakim, and Ventralli. “Where do you propose we begin? What are we even searching for?”
“The keys for each lock, I think. It seems right, at least—three key holes, three symbols. Once we get them, I’m hoping the barrier falls—it’s a barrier of magic, so the keys might be magic too—”
“So you propose we search all three damn kingdoms?” Noam’s annoyance flickers into anger at being so close to a goal yet still hindered.
“Yes—well, in part.” Theron looks down at his sketches of the chasm door’s symbols. “We could start by exploring the areas in each kingdom that are most likely to have what we seek. Areas of value, perhaps, that would have survived the tests of time. It’s at least a start. We could ask—”