Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

Vale

"Most temples are for worship and reading, with the academies attached to them for residents," I explained to Cypherion for what must have been the tenth time, though he kept listening attentively.

We strolled as casually as we could through the Second District and toward the largest temple in the capital, which sat above the archives. With the sun having set, some of the less savory parts of Valyn were waking. Nearly every open window emitted puffs of pastel smoke that I did my best to avoid.

It was likely only recreational—not the kind that would trigger a reading—but I didn't want to find out.

"But there will be guards," Cypherion said.

As a group of warriors pushed past us, he placed his hand to my lower back, keeping me close. I tried not to look at any of them, didn't want them peering beneath my hood on the off chance that they remembered the chancellor's apprentice. Instead, I ducked my head and leaned into Cypherion.

Spirits, being so hidden was strange, but in a way, it awarded a new level of freedom. I didn't have to be looking over my shoulder every moment. Didn't have to worry that I'd be recognized so easily. And given that it was winter, it wasn't suspicious of us to be so concealed.

I answered Cypherion as that group drifted further down the street, "There are guards, but they're employed by the temples and academies. Everyone who grows up at a temple, or is hired by them, is trained." I was. "They're usually unpracticed in real combat—the ones who didn't join the armies against Kakias at least—but it's best if we can avoid them."

I didn't want to harm innocent Starsearchers. If these guards were like most, Cypherion would destroy them in a battle.

He hummed in agreement, and we continued on. Finally, at the end of a wide street, the temple's looming silhouette rose into the night.

We stopped at the base of the stairs, the elaborate carved stone facade glaring down at us, pointed towers and stained glass adorning the sacred space.

"Weapons?" Cypherion asked to distract me, craning his neck to see the top of the spires glinting in the moonlight.

Beneath my cloak, my triple blades were heavy in my weapon belt. The extra knives Cypherion insisted I slide into sheaths on my thighs and wrist chilled me through the leather.

"They'll have them," I muttered.

For a moment, my chest tugged. Swirls of murky blues and bursts of bright whites pressed against my mind. Fates whispered in my ears.

Fatecatcher , one roared.

But just as quickly, they were gone.

And we were left staring at gray stone and twelve large, arched windows. Candles flickered behind eleven, depicting a pivotal story of each Fate.

With a nod at those windows, Cypherion extended a hand to lead me up the steps and said, "Let's go see what they hold, Stargirl."

As I marched up those stairs, his boots echoing on stone behind mine, comfort wrapped itself around my bones and made each step easier. Cypherion wasn't leaving me. Together, we would decipher what hid inside.

The domed center of the temple looked down at us as we entered. Stained glass in the rounded skylights melted the stars so they swam in the deep navy, a few propped open to view the constellations. A balcony lined the ceiling, telescopes poking out, exactly as our Angel liked to practice.

With each step inside, magic fluttered quicker beneath my skin.

Benches lined the center aisle up to the altar, a few Starsearchers kneeling between them. A handful of guards lined the walkway, but no one noticed us.

Alcoves brimmed with incense around the edge of the main hall. Curtains were pulled closed on every one, waiting for deeper readings to be conducted and candles flickered within. Twelve spaces in total. One for each Fate.

Like the windows, the one at the end remained dark.

And halfway down the left wall, a wooden door cut between two of them.

"This way," I whispered.

Cypherion said nothing, but the tension rolling off his shoulders was palpable, the ticking of his jaw nearly audible. He was likely counting each of the knives strapped to his person, planning the quickest exit.

The skylights cast pockets of moonlight onto the tile as we made our way through the temple to that wooden door. Our breaths were loud, and my fingers jittered at my sides.

Silently, Cypherion slipped his hand into mine, steadying me.

As we reached the door, my heart sank. "A lock," I whispered.

Of course the archives were unlocked to only the acolytes. What had I been expecting? Just because every door had appeared open to me before—when I came on Titus's orders—did not mean they were still.

Cypherion draped his hand around my shoulder and pretended to admire the statues of ancient warriors standing on either side of the door.

"Sealed magically or with a key?" he mumbled.

I mimicked his nonchalance despite the combination of nerves and magic bubbling within me, slipping my arm around his waist. But I looked out of the corner of my eye to the metal lock. It appeared simple, a keyhole in the center.

"It's basic," I said.

"Good," Cypherion whispered. "There's only one guard on this side of the temple." He tilted his head to the right. "Go ask him for assistance with the candles in one of these alcoves, and when you're done, meet me behind that door."

I looked up to him, my brows pulling together, but he kissed my temple softly and sent me on my way.

"Excuse me, sir?" I asked, keeping my hood pulled up but ensuring my tone was light. The guard turned to me curiously, dark-blond hair swaying around his shoulders. "I'd like to use one of the private alcoves, but I can't seem to locate the matches."

"Sorry about that, Miss," he said, nodding. "I'll go fetch some."

I watched him leave, and fought every instinct to check on Cypherion. Instead, I drifted to the end of the benches lining the main aisle and stared up at the dome. At the heavens stretching beyond, whirling with star-kept secrets.

What is it you plan for us?

Silence hung around me as I waited for an answer. But the Fates only continued to stir wickedly within my mind, strumming along my veins, like a poetic melody. Giving no answers.

"Here you are," the guard said, returning with a long rectangular box. "May the stars guide you."

"Thank you." With a demure nod, I disappeared into the nearest alcove and pulled the curtain, leaving a gap to watch him retreat. I lit the candles but not the incense. Not until he was far enough away.

Only then did I ignite the smoky haze, filling the space to give the illusion that I was reading within, and slip out before it could take me.

I scampered quietly back up the aisle, clinging to shadows. The door to the archives was unlocked.

As I tugged it softly against the jam behind me, strong arms wrapped around my waist. I gasped, but that bergamot scent had me sighing. I held tight to his wrists as I craned my neck, his blue eyes shining beneath his hood.

"I wasn't aware lock picking was on your list of skills," I whispered.

"I have a wealth of talents you've yet to see, Stargirl."

Though nerves still jittered through me, I laughed softly.

Peeking around him, I nodded down the corridor. "That staircase leads down to the archives."

"Ninth level," Cypherion said, checking over his shoulder. "Let's go."

We descended, low-ceilinged chambers crammed with stacks of books waiting on each floor. Offices, tutoring rooms, and session halls branched off the aisles. Despite the chill above ground, mystlight kept the archives comfortable for the long nights that acolytes worked or read. As students of the temple above us, they lived in the attached dormitories and were required to attend an absurd number of lessons, sessions, and trainings, making nights the best time to study.

Fires flickered in grates, scholars and warriors lining each floor, chatting, reading, and working. No one even thought to look twice at us, and we did not care to disturb them. If my magic wasn't straining so aggressively to be used, I might have liked it here.

But the pounding of the Fates intensified the deeper we got, spiraling down that staircase in the center of the archives.

Until we reached the sixth level down.

When I looked around the curved stone corner, my gaze caught on an office door at the end of the first aisle.

On the words etched possessively into the wood.

Chancellor Titus Verian .

"Chancellor?" I muttered.

"What's that?" Cypherion said, reaching for a weapon as he spun. His eyes narrowed on the plaque, and he immediately stepped to block me from view of anyone on this floor.

When he spoke again, his voice was darker than before. "He has a study here?"

"I…didn't know…"

I didn't know.

I was Titus's apprentice, supposedly the only student he saw as worthy of holding that position. I attended Capital Council meetings with him, conducted readings at his request, and yet…

I had not known of this office in the archive temple.

Disappointment and abandonment crashed over me in icy waves. The worst was the shock, though. Because I shouldn't have expected anything else.

It sliced through me like each letter on the door was being carved into my skin.

"Vale?" Gently, Cypherion reached for my hand.

The stairs to the lower archive levels were just behind us. Only three more. I should get to the ninth level so we could leave.

But I couldn't stop whatever force pulled me toward the door, dragging Cypherion down the aisle behind me. Couldn't resist as my hand raised and drifted across the letters spelling out his name and title.

Father. Captor.

Savior. Ruler.

Liar—

No.

Heat flared through my shoulder.

Titus was good. He was . He had to be. Titus had saved me sixteen years ago, and if he had not written to me since Daminius, there was a reason. A valid explanation, I was certain.

That mantra played on a hypnotic loop through my mind as magic continued to pound beneath my skin. As that tangle of wild stars begged to be released.

Flashes of light and wings and falling constellations. Images of legends and gods and locked cages.

Footsteps echoed down the nearest aisle, coming toward us.

"Come on, Vale," Cypherion said, his hand squeezing mine.

But my feet remained rooted to the tile. "Titus…"

He was the one I was supposed to be working for. He was the one who had rescued me from that temple as a child, who had seen promise in me that no one else had.

They all wanted to use my magic, but Titus nurtured it. Power danced within my veins at the reminder.

That burning was back along my shoulder and nine midnights eddied through my mind. The footsteps were getting closer, laughter with them now.

"Vale, we have to go."

"No…Titus…"

"Enough of him, dammit."

The swirling pressure crescendoed in my mind, stars popping along my vision. My shoulder flared, and strong arms hoisted me from the ground, fleeing the temple.