I snorted. “Of course not. That would be too easy.”

“The Council uses that space for storage, and the exit will take us into a small vestibule, here.” He drew his finger down a long corridor. “We’ll have to make our way along this route to reach the entrance to the prison caverns. Night sentries patrol these corridors. This is when we’re most likely to be caught.”

“How do you know so much about the basilica if you’re not actually on the Council?” I asked.

“DeLaguna encourages my interest. He thinks my curiosity is a sign of an eager student.”

“But you’re really just arming yourself with information for a hostile takeover?”

He sniffed. “You never know when even the most obscure information could come in handy. Tonight is the beginning of my master’s undoing. Soon, I will take his place on the Council.”

“And then you’ll set your eye on ruling that too.” Brigette pursed her lips. “Can we get on with this? Evie might enjoy adventure, but I prefer books and tea and reclining on soft surfaces that don’t leave me coated in salt and sand.”

I glanced at Gideon. He nodded.

I swallowed, relieving my dry throat. “So how do we get Jackie back out once we’ve freed him?”

“The same way we came in,” Taviano said. “The wards are in place not only to stop people from breaking in but also to keep prisoners from breaking out. If Faercourt tries to leave the basilica by any route other than these caves, the wards will stop him.”

I paused in the middle of shedding my Thunder Cloak and considered whether it made sense to leave it behind.

He must have noticed my hesitation. “Leave it. Your cloak won’t work in there.”

My already-upset stomach sank lower, but I stripped off my cloak, boots, mask, and blouse, leaving me in a tight knit undershirt. Although I’d discarded most of my possessions to make swimming easier, I retied the rope around my waist and slipped my knife into it. Even if Magic wouldn’t work inside the basilica, I was willing to bet a blade would.

Gideon undressed down to his pants, but Taviano remained in his dark silk shirt. The lanky Magician eyed Gideon’s bare chest and broad shoulders with a look of disdain. Or jealousy, perhaps.

“I assume you know how to swim.”

Gideon said nothing, giving Taviano a What do you think? look as he fastened Sephonie to his back and adjusted the strap across his chest.

“Salt water won’t harm it?” I asked.

Gideon grimaced. “It’s a risk I’ll have to take.”

Taviano strode to the water and stepped into the fizzy surf. Gideon, Brigette, and I joined him.

“Brigette, if anything goes wrong—”

“I know.” She squeezed my shoulder and glanced at Gideon. “I haven’t forgotten what to do.”

Taviano raised his hand, and a blue-green glow exuded from his fingertips. “I apologize in advance, but this may sting a bit.”

He touched my chest, and the air in my lungs fled as though he’d reached inside and ripped it out. Choking, I dropped to my knees and gasped, but no relief came.

“Get her into the water,” he ordered.

Strong hands gripped me and tugged me into the waves.

“Relax, Stormbourne. Fight against your instincts to hold your breath. Let the water in.”

Panicking, I ignored Taviano’s instructions and flailed, kicking and fighting as dark waves crashed over me.

“Stop, Evie.” Gideon’s voice broke through my terror. “It’ll be all right. I’ll be with you the whole time. Relax.”

At the moment I was certain I would suffocate or drown, a subconscious reflex kicked in. I inhaled water... and exhaled it like air, drawing precious oxygen into my starving bloodstream. A shadowy figure appeared beside me and took my hand. Gideon. My blurry vision cleared as a blue-green light illuminated his face and Taviano’s as well. The Magician kicked and stroked into deeper water before turning back and motioning for us to follow.

Sting a bit? That’s the understatement of the century. I wondered if Taviano had gotten a thrill from watching me struggle.

After taking a few more experimental breaths, assuring myself I wouldn’t drown, I mustered my courage and swam after Taviano, stroking hard against the currents.

Chapter 21

Telling time underwater was impossible, but it felt like we’d spent hours beneath the surface, exploring the islet’s submerged perimeter—limestone foundations sprouting from the seafloor like a massive tree trunk—searching for a chink in its armor. My arm muscles burned from propelling myself against tides determined to drag me out to sea. Darkness pressed in around us, and I wished I had the power to make my own light rather than relying on Taviano to show us the way.

The Magician’s orb cast a phosphorescent glow over the vertical rock face, and I was certain we’d almost circumnavigated the entire island when he stopped and pointed at a stream of bubbles fizzing from a deep crevasse. He swam closer. Gideon and I joined him, kicking hard to keep up. For such a gangly young man, the Magician was a surprisingly strong swimmer.

Following the light and bubbles, we approached a dark, yawning maw, an opening like the mouth of a whale. I felt like a miniscule krill about to be sucked up, but Taviano sent his orb rushing inside, lighting our pathway. I stroked, propelling myself forward, trailing in his wake. Gideon gave my hand a reassuring squeeze as we swam side by side into the underwater cave.

Had we really done it, found an elusive secret entrance into the basilica that would grant us access? I would’ve said it was too easy except nothing about this mission had been simple or trouble free. We had worked and struggled and fought to get this far. Maybe liberating Jackie wouldn’t be as impossible as I’d feared. Maybe this one task would go right. Success would be a welcome change from our standard operating procedures.

The cave narrowed into a tunnel that forced us to swim single file, Taviano before me, Gideon behind me. We passed the occasional startled fish but otherwise encountered no tricky Magic or bespelled sea creatures sent to deter us. The tunnel curved, sending us up a vertical chute like a chimney before spreading wide again, opening into a shallow pool with a rocky floor. Taviano surfaced first. Gideon and I popped up beside him.

Taviano touched me again, and this time I was prepared for the strangling sensation. When it passed, I sucked in a breath using my regular human lungs. Gideon gasped as Taviano restored his breathing, but once we’d recovered, we paddled closer to the pool’s edge.

“When historians write my life story,” I said, “no one’s going to believe this really happened.”

“Hush,” Taviano whispered. He sent his orb floating above us so it provided light to the whole room. “Noise travels far in this place.”

Circumspect, I nodded and climbed the pool’s slanting bottom to dry land. I stumbled a few steps before sinking to the ground and inhaling several breaths, relishing the sensation and enjoying the feel of solid rock—not water—beneath me. Gideon sat beside me, unstrapped his crossbow, and checked its mechanisms.

“Did it survive?” I asked, keeping my voice low.

He frowned. “Remains to be seen.”

“Sephonie’s like your right arm. I’m surprised you would risk it.”

He leaned in, staring intently at me. “I’d risk everything for you.”

Before I could respond, Taviano appeared at my side, towering over us. He jerked his chin, gesturing at a staircase carved into the cavern’s rock walls. Only then did I notice the shelves notched into the stone, positioned several yards above the floor, probably to avoid flooding during the changes in tide. Urns and boxes made of glass and pottery filled the cubbyholes, protecting their contents from the harsh elements.

Groaning, I stood and trailed after Taviano. Gideon climbed behind me, padding on bare feet. The cool cave air chilled my skin, raising goose bumps, but I ignored my discomfort. Soon enough we’d be in the heat of confrontation with Jackie. My stomach flip-flopped again. If this keeps up, I’ll have ulcers before we get out of here.

At the top of the steps, Taviano paused and pressed his ear to the door. He closed his eyes, chanted under his breath, then seemed to listen. Satisfied with whatever he’d heard, or hadn’t heard, he pushed the door, and it swung open on creaky hinges. I cringed, certain the noise had given us away, but Taviano strode into a vestibule of hardwood paneling, carpeted floors, fat marble columns, and flickering candlelight. A pair of small round windows near the ceiling peered into the clear night sky, revealing stars and a bright moon. The clouds I’d called in earlier had drifted away.

Pausing, we dripped on the carpet and listened, but no alarm announced our presence. No guards came rushing to capture us. Hugging the walls, Taviano padded to the vestibule’s threshold and peered around the corner. He flinched, drew back, and waved a glowing blue-green hand over himself, instantly drying his hair and clothes. Another wave gave him boots and a formal green coat with a high collar. He straightened his shoulders, glanced back at us, and whispered harshly, “Hide.” Then he strode around the corner, straightening his lapels.

A voice speaking Vinitzian called out in a warning tone. Taviano answered, his words brusque and confident. Gideon wrapped an arm around me, tugging me close as he ducked behind a vestibule column. I pressed myself against him, trying to make our silhouette as small as possible. His heartbeat pounded beneath my ear like a desperate war drum, matching the rhythm of my own nervous pulse.