Page 16 of Beyond the Treaty

nod. Without another word, Azrael slips away, positioning himself near the guards. Moments later, his signal comes, a sharp, silent motion that propels me into action.

I step forward, uncorking the vial and tipping its contents onto the cold stone near the corner. The liquid hisses and evaporates, curling into a silvery mist that snakes through the air like a living entity. “What’s that?” one guard mutters, his voice tense. “Check it out,” the other replies, already stepping toward the smoke. The instant they move, Azrael motions for me to follow. Together, we slip through the entrance and into the vast chamber beyond. The archives are massive, their walls lined with towering shelves crammed with scrolls, tomes, and crumbling records. The faint scent of aged parchment mingles with the chill of the stone air.

“Spread out,” Azrael whispers. “We don’t have much time. Look for anything that stands out.” I nod and begin searching, my fingers trembling slightly as I scan the shelves. Scrolls and books blur together, their titles an indecipherable mix of ancient scripts and obscure symbols.

My eyes fall on a crimson-bound tome, its edges adorned with intricate gold filigree. Something about it feels off, the air around it humming faintly with suppressed power.

“Azrael,” I call softly, holding up the book. He’s beside me in an instant, his sharp gaze narrowing as he takes it from my hands. “This is it,” he says, his voice low yet urgent.

“There’s magic woven into the binding, it’s meant to protect something important.” Before I can respond, a distant shout echoes from the corridor outside. My heart leaps into my throat.

“They’ve noticed,” Azrael says grimly, clutching the tome tightly to his chest. “We need to move. Now.” His hand grabs mine, and we’re running, weaving through the endless rows of shelves toward the nearest exit. My pulse thunders in my ears as the chase begins, every step bringing us closer to both freedom and the unknown. The labyrinthine halls of the archives twist and turn as Azrael leads me forward, his movements swift and deliberate.

Behind us, the faint echoes of footsteps and shouted orders grow louder. The guards are closing in. My heart pounds in my chest, every instinct screaming at me to run faster, to escape, but Azrael’s firm grip on my hand keeps me grounded and steady. “We need to lose them,” I whisper, glancing over my shoulder, my breath quick and shallow.

Azrael’s jaw tightens, his eyes burning with fierce determi- nation. “Trust me,” he says, his voice calm but unyielding.

Without breaking stride, he veers sharply into a narrow side passage, pulling me along. The walls close in around us, the air growing colder and heavier as the corridor slopes downward. The shouts behind us begin to fade, muffled by the twists and turns of the path.

“Where are we going?” I ask, my voice breathless.

“There’s an old service tunnel ahead,” Azrael replies, not slowing. “It’ll take us out of the palace grounds if we can reach it in time.”

How does he know so much about the palace? Strange.

At last, a small, rusted door appears at the end of the passage, nearly hidden in the dim light. Azrael releases my hand and steps forward, his movements sharp and precise as he draws a slim blade from his belt and begins to work on the lock.

“Hurry!” I urge, the sound of boots echoing louder behind us as the guards close in quickly.

The lock clicks open just as the first shadows stretch into the passage. Without hesitation, Azrael pushes the door open to reveal a narrow, damp tunnel that disappears into darkness.

“In,” he commands, signalling for me to proceed first.

I duck into the tunnel, the cold, earthy air wrapping around me like a second skin. Azrael slips in after me, pulls the door shut, and locks it from the inside. For a moment, silence falls, broken only by the sound of my ragged breathing.

“This way,” Azrael says, his voice low yet urgent as he guides us deeper into the tunnel.

The minutes stretch endlessly as we wind through the dark, twisting passage. My thoughts are heavy with the weight of the crimson tome clutched in Azrael’s hands. Whatever secrets it holds, I can sense the danger radiating from it like heat. This book might hold the key to unravelling the Council’s lies, but at what cost?

Finally, a faint light appears ahead. The tunnel opens into asecluded grove at the edge of the palace grounds. Azrael begins scanning the area with a sharp, predatory focus before signalling for me to follow.

“We are in the clear,” he says softly.

I stumble into the grove, my legs trembling as I sink to the ground, overwhelmed by exhaustion and adrenaline. “That was too close,” I mutter, pressing a hand to my chest to steady my breathing.

Azrael crouches beside me, his sharp gaze softened only slightly. “Close, but successful,” he says, placing the crimson tome on the ground between us. The gold filigree gleams faintly in the moonlight, as if mocking the weight of the truth we are about to uncover.

“What now?” I ask, my voice wavering yet filled with resolve.

Azrael’s expression hardens, his fiery intensity rekindling. “Now we see what the Council didn’t want you to discover.”

He pulls out a small blade and gently presses it against the magical seal binding the book. The air around it shimmers faintly, as an invisible force pushes back against his efforts.

“This seal won’t hold forever,” he mutters. “But they’ve woven powerful magic into this. Whatever’s inside, they didn’t want anyone discovering it.”

I watch, my mind spinning with questions.Why go to such lengths to protect this? What could be so dangerous that even the Council feared it would fall into the wrong hands?

Finally, with a gentle crack, the magical seal dissolves into wisps of faint light. Azrael opens the book slowly, his eyes scanning the pages with increasing intensity.

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