“Violet, we have to go,” Imogen warns, walking toward the guards and rolling up the sleeves of her cream robes.
King Tauri would want to show them off.
I reach for the velvet tablecloth and pull it off.
“There!” I point to the circle of glass set in the top of the pedestal. “Aaric! Beneath the glass!” Two leather tomes, barely larger than my hand. Perfect for keeping in a rucksack…while riding the first dragons.
“Not glass. Another set of wards.” He leans over the cabinet and reaches in, then lets out a sharp hiss, his face contorting in pain as he pulls out both books. “Fuck!” He sets them on the edge of the cabinet, then holds his hands up.
I watch in horror as blisters the size of my thumb swell over every inch of skin that passed through the wards.
“I think those wards know I wasn’t him.” He grimaces. “Let’s go!”
I unbelt my robes and reveal the two cream satchels Jesinia gave me for this exact reason, then carefully put one tome in each.
“Two minutes!” Imogen shouts from where she’s kneeled next to the guards, her hands on the larger one’s head.
Xaden drops two wineskins into their laps, and I snatch the tablecloth from the floor, then throw it over the case.
“Zihnal may love you, but let’s not test him,” Aaric grits through his teeth, holding out a blistered hand.
“It’s going to hurt—” I protest, tying my belt tight.
“And I’m not leaving you in here.” He grabs hold of my hand and grunts in pain as he pulls us through the wards and into the hallway.
My hand is sticky when he lets go.
“We have to run.” Xaden gestures down the hallway, and I do exactly that. Run.
When the robe gets in the way, I gather the fabric in my hands and sprint, following Xaden as he races up the stairs.
“Bet you’re glad we’ve been running every morning!” Imogen calls from behind me as we turn and turn and turn, the staircase dizzying me by the time we emerge into the classroom.
Xaden reaches for the lever Jesinia used, and as soon as Imogen and Aaric are clear, he pushes. We wait only long enough to see that the entrance begins closing before taking off again.
My chest heaves as we run down the hallways, Xaden taking every turn Jesinia did, never once questioning himself. Either he’s really certain of the path or he knows we can’t afford the time to even debate.
We reach the main library and the bells ring out, signaling an hour has passed. “Faster!” Xaden demands.
They peal once.
There is no faster, but I don’t have enough breath to snap back at him. Our boots pound against the marble as we race between the tables.
Twice.
“Run!” Sawyer shouts from the entrance.
Oh gods the door.
Three times.
It’s closing on its own, and the locking mechanism won’t allow it to open until a full twelve hours passes. The muscles in my thighs burn in protest.
I skid as we turn at the last of the tables, sliding into the end of the bookshelf and hitting my shoulder hard enough to wince.
A fourth.
Xaden falls back to run at my side, but he’s the faster of us.
“Take the books!” I shout between gasping breaths. “You can make it!”
A fifth.
“You stay, I stay!” He lifts a hand, sprinting with it outstretched, and shadows fly from the walls to push against the closing door as we pass the study table.
Sawyer clears the narrow path that remains between the thick steel of the door and its casing.
The bells ring out a sixth time.
Xaden pushes me through the doorway first, and once I’m in, I look back, my breaths ragged and my heart pounding so hard I can feel it in my head.
Imogen races by, and Xaden reaches into the doorway as the seventh bell peals.
Oh gods, he’s going to lose an arm, and Aaric—
They’re not going to make it.
My last words with my father before the Battle of Aretia were spoken in anger, because he was sending me away for my own safety.
