“I’m eager to learn to read Anassa’s journal and uncover what secrets she may have recorded in it,” I say.
Across the table, Zandria snorts. Catoria raises an eyebrow at her. “Are you no longer interested in learning the ancient runes?”
“No, they’re fascinating. It’s been very helpful with some of the older scrolls,” she says, giving me a long, meaningful look I can’t decipher.
“What was that look for?” I ask her, beginning to feel a bit annoyed.
She shakes her head. “Just that my reasons for wanting to learn the runes are quite different from yours, sister.” There’s an edge to her words, but I’m at a loss as to why.
“What are you talking about?”
Catoria holds out her hands. “Girls, there is no need to argue—”
“You just want to read the journal because you feel a kinship with Anassa,” Zandria says.
My brow furrows. “I mean, I suppose . . .” Suddenly I understand her meaning. My face heats. “Because of who she married. That’s what you mean.”
Catoria glances between us, confused, while Remy groans and sets his toast down.
“Is there something I should know? Anything that would impact your allegiance to the Alliance?” Catoria asks us more sternly than I’ve heard her speak before. No wonder, since my sister is acting very childish this morning.
“Yes, I think there is,” Zandria says. “Aissa also fell in love with a Technocrat. One she was supposed to assassinate.”
“That sounds like quite a story,” Catoria says.
I sigh, but at Catoria’s unyielding expression, I relent. “The Armory Council assigned me and Zandria to find the Heartless heir to the Technocrat throne. We were told to look for a young girl, but the heir turned out to be the Palace researcher I thought I was using for information.”
“And then she fell in love with him anyway,” Zandria says, rolling her eyes.
I grimace. “That happened before I knew he was the heir. Knowing just . . . complicated things.”
Zandria harrumphs. “Clearly.”
“His name is Aro. He caught on to the fact I’m Magi, but he didn’t turn me in. Then Darian betrayed me and Remy while we were trying to rescue Zandria from the Technocrats’ dungeons, and Aro was the one who helped us escape.”
Catoria holds up a hand. “Hold on a moment. Zandria, you were captured by the Technocrats? I knew one of you had been—I saw it in the scrying pool—but I wasn’t sure which of you it was. I’m so sorry.”
Zandria stares daggers at me. She must’ve intended to hide that fact, just as I’d hoped to hide my relationship with Aro for a while longer. Both those truths paint us in the eyes of others in ways we cannot control. Our vulnerabilities exposed for all to see.
Catoria examines us for a long moment, then finally speaks. “Well, that was right foolish of you, Aissa. Spies are not supposed to fall in love.”
Though it’s addressed to me, Zandria blanches at this remark as much as I do. We both unwittingly fell victim to that fatal mistake.
We eat the rest of our meal in silence. Before long, Remy and Zandria escape to the stacks, and Catoria excuses herself to her laboratory, leaving me alone yet again.
By the time we finish our daily lesson on runes, my head is filled to the brim and spinning with new information. I’m not even sure I could retain another spell right now, so instead I decide to explore while Remy and Zandria go off to do some weapons training.
I’ve only explored at night thus far, but I’m becoming more comfortable here. Catoria has been open and forthright about everything we’ve asked her, largely putting to rest any suspicions she might be hiding something. True, she still has information to share, but all we need to do is ask for it and it’s ours.
Given that my sister will barely speak to me, I’m not sure what Zandria’s opinion—or Remy’s, for that matter—of Catoria is now, but they too act like the Sanctuary is beginning to feel like a new home.
I head into the northern corridor. Even though I don’t believe I’m doing anything wrong, the spy in me is cautious. No one sees me duck into the tunnel or cast the silencing spell so my feet make no sound as I run headlong through the cavernous hills I’ve already explored. Some of these hills appear to have housed what look like small villages, round stone houses grouped together. They offer a peek into how our ancestors lived. Others seem like apartments, honeycombs of small rooms carved out of the bedrock, reaching toward the ceiling. Walking through here feels like walking into our past.
Finally, I reach where my explorations last stopped. A door that leads me into a tunnel, one so old it crumbles in places here and there. If a holding spell had been cast on it once, it was long enough ago that it’s finally worn off. The tunnel starts to angle downward, then suddenly turns into steep, winding stairs. I can’t help wondering where this could be taking me. I’ve created a mental map in my head of each hill and the tunnels that circle through the entire site. If I’m right, this tunnel first circled back toward the hill that houses what I’ve taken to calling the throne room—the one with the grand statues. But the downward slant means this leads to something beneath that room.
Until this moment, I hadn’t questioned how many levels the Sanctuary concealed. Now my curiosity is on fire.
I begin to take the stairs two at a time. Soon I reach a landing—and a dead end. It’s a small, circular room, and every inch of the walls is covered in ancient runes, creating a pattern both mysterious and lovely. No hint of any door or exit presents itself. I examine the walls closely, hoping to find some sort of rent or seam.
Nothing.
But if this is truly a dead end, why would the Ancient Magi have carved all these runes here? Did they use this small space, deep underground even then, for some long-forgotten ritual? A few of the runes I recognize from our lessons, but the order they’re in is still incomprehensible to me.
“What are you doing down here?” Catoria’s voice echoes from the stairs, startling me out of my reverie.
“I—I was just wandering. What is this place? What does it all mean?” I ask.
My mentor frowns. “You’re here for new beginnings.” She gestures in a manner that makes it clear she expects me to go back up the stairs.
I do as she indicates, and she follows silently a few feet behind me.
I like Catoria. I respect Catoria. But now I’m convinced Remy’s speculation was right: she’s definitely keeping things from us. Perhaps she’ll reveal them all in good time. Perhaps she won’t.
But if she thinks I’ll simply forget all about this place and not delve further, she’s sorely mistaken.
CHAPTER 11
WE ARRIVED AT THE SANCTUARY TWO weeks ago, but time has passed quickly enough that it only feels like we’ve been here a few days. Catoria is an excellent teacher; I understand why she was selected to wait here for us for so long. We’ve mastered several new spells and now have a rudimentary understanding of the ancient Magi runes. We’ve even begun to practice with some of the strange weapons in the Sanctuary’s training room.
Yet despite all we’ve learned, the library is massive. We could spend years here and barely scrape the surface of all the knowledge it holds.
There’s too much to learn with so much depending on it. And our only link to the outside world is Catoria’s scrying pool. We’ve checked on Darian a handful of times, but mostly he’s been skulking around the Palace unhappily.
Which is a relief. If he were happy . . . that would be concerning.
My worry for Aro has increased. I miss him every second. Through what I can translate of Anassa’s journal, I’ve learned a little more about the Binding rite. The bond is always strong, but when a bonded couple is separated, they may begin to feel it physically. Sometimes as an ache in the gut or head. Sometimes a tightness in the chest. Nothing crippling, but a constant reminder of their other half’s absence.
I feel this keenly. At first, I thought I was simply being foolish, but now I unde
rstand what is happening. Aro must feel it too.
We’re always connected, no matter how much distance separates us.
While I’ve been dealing with these emotions over the past few weeks, Zandria and Remy have grown closer and often train together. They both still feel betrayed by my choice to bind myself to a Technocrat. We tiptoe around each other, but at least they’re not full-on ignoring me. I just hope someday they come around. If they don’t, it doesn’t bode well for pursuing the Alchemist Alliance’s mission.
Tonight, I study Anassa’s journal while Zandy and Remy cross staves. I watch them spar for a while, a strange twinge in my chest. It’s been a long time since I sparred with my sister. Remy, I could take down easily. But my sister is my true match. She makes things challenging. I’ve missed that more than I realized.
I set the journal aside and get to my feet.
“Remy—can I take a round?”
He raises an eyebrow, then tosses me the staff. I catch it deftly in one hand.
Zandria tilts her head at me. “Think you can do better against me than Remy, sister?” she says.
I laugh. “Obviously.”
“Hey!” Remy calls from the side of the room, frowning.
Zandria and I regard each other for a moment. Then she lunges. I twist to the side and out of range, striking her staff with my own. We circle each other, carrying on in a familiar dance: strike, block, duck, strike, duck, strike, block. After several minutes, I finally manage to score a hit and knock her off her feet—a rare occurrence. She’s a little better than me with a staff, whereas daggers and close range is more my style.
I help her to her feet and she immediately strikes at me. I barely manage to block her. There’s something angry and vicious brewing deep within her. Sadness stings my heart. My feisty, bold sister who found joy in her training is no more. It isn’t something that can be fixed with a spell; her time in captivity broke her. I need to help, but I’m not sure how. Otherwise, like a bone not set right before it heals, this part of her might be twisted forever.
“Zandy, what happened in the dungeons?” I ask her in a voice low enough that Remy won’t hear.
Her eyes flare and she strikes out again, harder this time. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You need to. You’re bottling it up. If you don’t let it out, you’ll explode.”
“Maybe I want to explode.”
I shudder involuntarily, then block another strike. “I’m your sister. You can tell me anything. Why can’t you tell me this?”
Her face turns an ashen color, then her expression hardens. “You won’t understand.”
Our staves cross, and we circle, each trying to push the other off balance. “I’m your twin—who could understand better?”
With a sudden spurt of energy, she shoves me back across the training room floor. “Someone who hates the Technocrats as much as I do.”
Then she spits to the side and hurls her staff at me, catching me off guard. I dive out of its path and roll back up to my feet just in time to see Zandria stomping through the doorway.
I shout after her, “If you don’t confront these demons, they’ll devour you. Let me help!”
But she doesn’t answer.
Remy gapes for a moment, then peels off the wall where he was watching us spar. He puts a hand on my shoulder when I try to follow Zandy.
“She needs space.”
“How would you know? Until a few weeks ago, you hadn’t seen her in years. She’s my sister.”
“She’s hurt. And confused.”
I brush him off and step through the doorway. “So are we all.”
Remy catches my arm. “Did you ever stop to consider that maybe she’s simply angry with you?”
I yank my arm back like I’ve been burned. Then I hurry away.
As much as I hate to admit it, Remy might be right. Not everything is the Technocrats’ fault. To my sister, I committed the ultimate betrayal. Before the dungeons, she might have found a way to forgive me, laugh at me for it, even.
But now my entanglement with Aro has altered our relationship in ways I’m only beginning to understand.
By the time I find her in the girls’ dormitory sector, she’s asleep. Or maybe pretending to be asleep, but I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt. I curl up on the cot beside her and watch her chest rise and fall under the blanket until I drift off myself.
In my dream, I’m held fast by chains. Spiked metal gauntlets pound against my flesh, bruising my ribs and breaking my nose. It is the most vivid, torturous nightmare I’ve ever experienced. I jolt awake, gasping.
Confusion pierces me. I’m choking on my own blood. Every single part of my body hurts.
I try to get to my feet and wind up on the floor instead. Zandria flutters at the edges of my vision.
“Stay awake!” she orders me. I try to obey, but the pain is excruciating. I’m on fire, my body feels crushed.
And I don’t know how or why.
“Catoria!” Zandy yells. In a few minutes—or a few hours?—a soothing warmth begins to fill me. Soon I recover my voice and can focus my eyes again.
Catoria sits next to me, her hands holding mine as her healing spell shimmers under my skin. Shock becomes curiosity as the pain lessens.
I glance at Zandria. “I can’t feel my legs,” I say. Or move my neck. Panic buzzes in my ears.
“What happened to you?” she whispers.
“I was . . . I was dreaming. A man with metal gauntlets was beating me. I couldn’t fight back because I was chained.” I stare at the blood coating my night clothes. “How did this become real?”
Catoria tsks. “Dream magic, perhaps? Though that was a thing only the most powerful Magi were rumored to be able to do. I’ve never even seen those spells, so I don’t know for certain if they exist.” She narrows her eyes at the shadows in the corner of the room. “You’ve said that Darian betrayed you. Could you have been followed here?”
Zandria shakes her head, then her eyes widen . . . and quickly harden again. “What about a Binding rite? Could that cause injuries like this?”
My mouth drops open. I hadn’t been planning to relay that particular fact to Catoria.
But it would make perfect sense.
Aro must have been attacked. And I suffered the consequences alongside him. My heart twists for him. I know exactly what pain he must be in right now.
Catoria raises her eyebrows. “It could.” She sits back on her heels as the last of her magic works its way through my body. I can wiggle my toes again, which is a relief. “Is there something you wish to tell me, Aissa?”
Zandria’s mouth is a hard line, and I give her a baleful look.
“I performed the Binding rite with someone. I had no choice. He would’ve died.”
“Which would’ve been fine, considering you were supposed to assassinate him,” Zandria says. She folds her arms over her chest. Now that it’s clear I’m not dying, only her anger remains.
Catoria frowns. “You’re talking about that Heartless Technocrat, Aro, yes?”
“Yes,” I say. “While he was helping us escape the dungeons, we ran into Darian and his guards, and Aro got stabbed in the heart during the fight. It ruined the clockwork and perforated the power source.” I stare at my still-bloody hands. I know how silly these words must sound to them, but they make me choke up just thinking of all Aro has sacrificed for me, for us. “I couldn’t leave him there to die. Not after all he’d risked.”
Catoria stands suddenly, wrapping her long robes more closely around her frame. “This makes things much more dangerous for that boy. Do you even understand how the Binding rite works?”
Flashes of the terrible vision of my parents’ bodies bleeding out on the floor of our living room return to me, and I flinch.
“I think so,” I say, frowning.
“When he was hurt, you were too. In exactly the same ways. Now that you’ve been healed . . ” She holds her hands up as she trails off.
; I gape. “He’s been healed too.”
“Which will look mighty strange and suspicious to whoever did this to him.”
My head falls into my hands. “Oh no. Darian must have him. He’ll have no doubt why Aro’s mysteriously healed.”
“And from what you’ve told me about Darian, he will surely use it against the boy.”
A weight presses in on my chest. If anything happens to Aro, it’s my fault. I thought I was doing something good by saving him, but the reality finally hits home. Instead, I made everything exponentially more dangerous for us both.
If I die, so does he. If he dies, I die. Unless I’m strong enough to survive or have someone nearby to heal me quickly enough. And that will make the Technocrats ask questions. Lots of questions. Especially the king and queen.
Fierce horror hits me. I was counting on his parents protecting him, but if they realize he’s been touched by magic . . . all bets are off.
I clench my hands into fists, biting back the lump in my throat. “How do I fix this?”
Catoria laughs wryly and heads for the dormitory door. “There is no fixing it. The Binding rite is one of the few permanent spells. It cannot be broken.”
“Then what do I do?” I call after her. She stops at the doorway.
“The only thing you can. Get him out of Palinor and keep him close.”
CHAPTER 12
THE NEXT MORNING, WE SAY OUR GOODBYES to Catoria with heavy hearts. There’s so much more to learn here that it’s painful to leave. But fear needles at me. Aro is Darian’s prisoner now, of that I’m certain.
When the roles were reversed, Aro came for me. Now it’s my turn to rescue him.
Remy and Zandria are not eager to return to Palinor, but they see the necessity. While they bear no love for Aro, they don’t want to see me dead because the king and queen tired of their own heir—a thing none of us would put past them.
We cover ourselves in the fog that haunts the Sanctuary’s hilly terrain above. It’s hard to believe that such an extraordinary, vast place hides beneath our feet.
We move slowly, keeping our eyes and ears as alert as possible. When we hear the clank of metal, we halt immediately.
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