Page 92 of Night Fae
Leon let the curtain fall closed. "Yuri wanted this, you know. These connections between worlds, between people who should never have met."
"Why?" Malik asked. "What does he gain?"
"He lost someone," Leon said softly. "Someone the other Barrier Keepers took from him. He believes reuniting the worlds will bring them back."
Malik blinked.
"How would that even work?"
Leon shook his head. "I don't know the particulars."
"You seem to knowa lot, regardless." Malik frowned. "What was it like to be Yuri's captive? Did he do anything to you?"
Before Leon could respond, Lyrian returned with a stack of clothes. "Here. These should fit well enough."
Malik took them. Clothes would be nice to have when he made his escape. "I need a moment of privacy."
Lyrian and Leon exchanged glances again, then stepped outside.
Once alone, Malik moved as quickly as his weakened body would allow. He dressed, splashed water on his face from the basin beside the bed, and then he looked around the room.
Sadly, the window was too high for escape.
He'd have to find another way out.
It came sooner than expected. When Malik left the room, Leon and Lyrian were standing next to the door, arguing.
"I know my grandmother's vision wasn't wrong," Lyrian said, voice sharp. "She saw you with Yuri, working willingly at his side."
Leon's expression pulled tight. "Your grandmother sees fragments of truth through a distorted lens."
"So tell me what fragments was she seeing?"
"You wouldn't understand," Leon responded.
Lyrian took a step closer to Leon. "I swear, if you sent our friends into a trap…"
As their voices rose, Malik inched down the hall and around the corner.
Turned out you didn't need to be very stealthy. You just needed the other people to fail their perception check.
Still, Malik's heart was pounding so loud he thought they wouldhaveto hear him.
Licking his lips, he tried to orient himself.
No use. He had no idea where he was in relation to anything.
But he knew he had to find stairs down to the basement. That pulling sensation in his chest made him push onward, made him head east.
As quietly as possible, he made himself move, one hand pressed against the wall for balance.
It was as if he was holding an invisible compass that whispered to him where to go.
East. Always east.
He found a narrow staircase winding downward and descended carefully, pausing at each landing to listen for guards or servants. The air grew cooler and damper the deeper he went, until finally, he reached the lowest level.
At the bottom of the stairs, Malik found himself in a wide hallway lit by blue-flamed torches. At the far end stood two guards in Caelen's silver and black livery, stationed before a set of heavy iron doors.
