Taviano’s voice, and that of whoever he’d encountered, faded away as their footsteps receded down the hall. Gideon and I held our place, waiting.

He pressed his lips against my ear and whispered, “I think Taviano told the guard he was here to pick up papers from his master’s office.”

Maybe Gideon had a bit of Fantazike blood from some distant relative—his gift for languages never ceased to amaze me. “Is he coming back?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Should we wait for him?”

“If he’s keeping the guard distracted, then it seems like now would be a good time to make a run for the prison caverns. Do you know where they are?”

Recalling the blueprints and the path Taviano had traced on them, I nodded. We padded to the end of the room—bare feet made sneaking much easier and quieter. I peeked around the corner and spotted a wide but empty hallway of dark stone floors, wood-paneled walls, and arching ceilings. Oil lanterns flickered dimly, making the shadows dance.

Clutching Gideon’s hand, I tugged him behind me as I stepped out. We kept our steps soft as we hurried, following the blueprint map in my head. I regretted leaving behind my Thunder Cloak and wondered if Taviano had been honest when he’d insisted its invisibility wouldn’t work in this place. We reached the end of the hallway and stopped. Again, I peered around the corner, and this time, I spotted a figure in dark robes standing at attention midway down the hall. Based on my recall of the blueprints, the guard’s position placed him or her directly across from the vestibule leading to the prison access door.

Pulling back, I cursed under my breath. “Damn.”

“What?”

“There’s a guard. We have to go that way to get to the prison cavern entrance.”

“We need a distraction.”

“I was thinking the same thing.” I sent my subconscious out like tentacles, feeling for storms in the atmosphere. I’d wondered if the wards protecting the basilica would prevent me from connecting to the thunder, but my will brushed against a storm cell forming over the Eidridick Sea several miles away. I wrapped my mind around the storm then yanked and reeled it in.

I glanced at Gideon. “Stay back.”

He pressed himself against the wall and gritted his teeth as I unleashed the storm’s energy all at once, throwing it like a hammer against the basilica, striking a wall at the opposite end of the hall from the guard. Windows shattered, glass crashing in an explosion of sound. Gideon and I ducked behind a column in the hallway and listened to boot steps retreating down the hall.

The guard passed, and Gideon and I ran, our bare feet silent on the stone floors. I prayed to my ancestors, asking them to keep the guard’s attention occupied as we sprinted down the corridor and cut around the corner. Panting, heart racing, blood pumping, I stumbled to a stop in another vestibule that looked exactly like the one we’d just left. Gideon hooked an arm around me. He blew out the nearest oil lamp and pulled me into the shadows in the rear corner of the room as another set of boots pounded down the hallway—more guards coming to investigate.

“I hope they think it was a random lightning strike,” I whispered.

Gideon reached for the heavy oak door leading, presumably, to the prison caverns below the basilica. He worked the handle, but it refused to budge. “Locked,” he said, grimacing.

I huffed. “We need Taviano. Now.”

As if his name were a Magic spell, the Magician rounded the corner, striding toward us. “What did you do?” he asked in a harsh whisper.

“We didn’t know if you were coming back,” I said. “We had to improvise.”

“I thought you said you didn’t want anyone to know you were here.” He pressed his hand to the door and muttered something, and the familiar blue-green light flared around his fingers. The door shuddered and swung open.

We hurried through, and Gideon closed the door behind us as we paused on a narrow landing at the top of a staircase much like the one we’d climbed in the previous cavern. That cave had been small and rather squat compared to this grand cathedral of rock. Stalactite curtains dripped from the ceiling like melting wax that had suddenly hardened. Stalagmites rose in globular pillars—some forming huge columns connecting to the ceiling. Oil lanterns blazed, throwing light against rolling walls full of nooks and crannies. The space smelled of salt and wet minerals, and all was silent except for the plop of dripping water.

We descended the stairs, and Taviano led us across damp, rocky floor, deeper into the cave’s throat. We rounded a corner into a narrowing passage dead-ending in a short, dark hall. A low ceiling forced Gideon to crouch as we gathered in an open space between three pairs of cells that were too uniform to have occurred naturally. Someone must have carved the cells into the rock walls, creating an inescapable prison.

Over each chamber hung a heavy iron door. A small opening allowed a jailer to peer in or a prisoner to peek out, but the inmates seemed unaware of our presence. Gloomy and silent, the hall smelled of unwashed bodies and misery.

Taviano called for his light orb. It appeared, hovering near the low ceiling. He glanced at me, arched an eyebrow, and gestured in a way that indicated I should take the lead. I cleared my throat and inhaled a deep breath, urging my anxious heart to calm. All this work to get here, all this risk and danger, and suddenly I was overcome by the urge to turn and run. When I’d told Gideon I didn’t hate Jackie, I might’ve been stretching the truth. The thought of seeing him again made me sick. His name lodged in my throat like a bitter pill.

Perhaps Gideon sensed my distress. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close, pressing his lips to my ear. His bare skin was warm, and his heat seeped through my damp shirt. His words were barely more than a breath when he spoke. “We don’t have to do this. It’s not too late. You can still leave. We’ll find another way.”

I pushed him away. A queen, a good queen, didn’t run from her fears. A good queen faced them. I stiffened my spine, cleared my throat, and swallowed. “Jackie Faercourt, wake up. It’s your lucky day.”

He must’ve already been awake. He’d always had an uncanny awareness of me, an ability to predict my comings and goings. His pale face appeared in the door opening, wearing his familiar wry smirk. “Why, Evelyn... if I’d known you were coming to visit, I would have ordered tea.”

Jackie’s stay in prison had been short—no more than a month or so, but even that brief time had taken a toll. An old yellow-green bruise stained his cheek. His face was gaunt, and his corn-silk hair hung lank and stringy. I searched my heart for pity but found none. A few days of sunshine and good eating would undoubtedly restore him to his former glory. Such a contrast—all that physical beauty concealing such a twisted black heart. Can I keep a bag over his head until we get to Inselgrau, just so I don’t have to look at him?

You won’t hear any objection from me, Grandfather said.

Jackie’s silver gaze flickered over my companions, pausing on Gideon. “Sir Faust.” He arched an eyebrow. “You look to be in very fine form.”

Gideon huffed and folded his arms over his chest.

“Signore Pesce, have you fallen under Evelyn’s spell too?” Jackie’s tone was wistful. “She collects hearts wherever she goes and leaves a trail of casualties in her wake.”

Taviano snorted and removed a pair of brass handcuffs from his pocket. I’d seen Otokar—Magician to the Empress of Bonhemm—use a similar pair of cuffs to debilitate Jackie’s Magic when he’d arrested Jackie in the field outside Barsava. Repeating the Magical procedure he’d used to open the cavern door, Taviano unlocked Jackie’s cell and tugged open the heavy iron door. “Come, Faercourt. You have powerful friends in high places that want to see you liberated.”

Jackie stepped into the hall, his eyes latching onto me again. He held out his wrists, not struggling or refusing as Taviano hooked the brass cuffs in place. Jackie’s dark pants and stained linen shirt had seen better days. Yet he held himself regally as if standing among a group of admirers in the drawing room of Ruelle Thibodaux’s townhouse. “It’s an honor that you would come to escort me yourself, Evelyn.”

I gave him a flat, indifferent look and turned to Taviano. “Could you just, I don’t know, shrink him down into a roach I could carry in my pocket or something?”

“Perhaps.” Taviano’s lip curled. “But I would rather save my Magic for something more necessary and important.” He jerked his chin toward the end of the hall. “We should get going. Our luck has held this long. I do not trust it to last much longer.” He grasped Jackie’s cuffs and tugged, urging Jackie to follow him.

Gideon slid behind Jackie, leaving me to bring up the rear. Gideon had likely placed himself in that position not only to guard Jackie but also to buffer me from my most loathed enemy. I wouldn’t run from a challenge, but I didn’t have to cuddle up close to him, either.

Jackie came along complacently, and why wouldn’t he? He wanted out, and we were presenting his freedom like a gold key on a velvet pillow. The brass cuffs might have subdued him for now, but it was only a matter of time before he would be plotting a way to get them off. Jackie was smart, sly, and crafty. He could challenge Hannah Schulze for the title of world’s most manipulative schemer and probably win. I couldn’t let down my guard around him—he remained a coiled snake, waiting for me to make one misstep. Turn my back for a second, and he’d strike.

Already he exhausted me.

“The door to the storage cavern should still be unlocked,” Taviano whispered as we climbed the stairs to the access door. “If we should get separated, we will meet up again beside the pool.”

“Pool?” Jackie questioned. “I wondered why Evelyn was half-dressed and so...” He waggled an eyebrow at my clingy shirt. “Damp.”

Taviano snorted. “I hope you’re a decent swimmer, Faercourt.”

Jackie merely shrugged as Taviano opened the door and stepped into the foyer. Jackie followed, then Gideon, then me. Taviano motioned for us to hang back as he crossed into the main hallway, glancing both ways, presumably checking for guards. He flicked his fingers, beckoning, and took off again, moving fast. Gideon grasped Jackie’s arm and shoved him forward. I sent out my feelers, searching for another storm in case we needed a second distraction or a desperate last-minute assault.

Gideon rounded the corner into the hallway, picking up his pace. I rolled to the balls of my feet and jogged, outpacing him and Jackie. If anyone crossed our paths, I had a lightning bolt queued up and ready to strike. Taviano’s green coat flashed ahead of us as he turned into the vestibule leading to our escape route. I kicked up my pace, trusting Gideon and Jackie would keep up. The hallways were silent—too silent. No sentinels guarded the corridors this time, and perhaps I should have stopped and asked myself why as I rounded the final corner and slid to a stop in the empty vestibule. As Gideon shoved Jackie toward the storage room door, I spun around, searching for Taviano.

He couldn’t have gotten that far ahead of me. Had he already climbed down to the pool? “Where is he?” I glanced at Gideon.

His brow furrowed, teeth grinding.

“Oh dear.” Jackie’s tone was full of sarcasm. “We’ve lost our guide. That doesn’t bode well for us.”

Gideon and I held each other’s gaze. He raised a shoulder and flicked an eyebrow. What do you want to do? he seemed to ask.