Kiva decided against waiting too long and tore off down the right tunnel, the darkness stealing her sight. In the distance, she heard the telltale sign of scraping metal, her heart pounding as she realized Jaren was nearly aboveground — and she was too far away.
Throwing caution to the wind, she sprinted blindly forward until the barest hint of moonlight touched her vision, coloring the tunnel a midnight blue. She skidded to a halt and approached more carefully, finding the staircase only a few steps ahead.
Kiva dashed up it as fast as she dared and reached the top to see the iron grate back in place. She pushed the metal upward and slid it aside, wincing at the gods-awful screeching sound. But there was no need to worry about Jaren — or anyone — having heard, because when she peeked her head out, all she could hear was the lapping of the river; the grate was much closer to the bank than she’d thought.
Kiva took a second to get her bearings, noting the fortified palace walls behind her and the Serin to her right, with nothing but a slice of darkened parkland between her and the nearest city streets. There were no gilded fences, indicating she was at the rear of the palace, but she must have been around the corner from the guarded gate she and Caldon had used the night of her abduction. Not a single person was in sight — except for Jaren, blending into the shadows as he hurried through the trees across the park.
Hauling herself out of the grate, Kiva sprinted after him, diligently following as he sped along a street that hugged the river, past luxurious waterfront apartments and guild halls, commerce chambers and merchant warehouses. The buildings were lit merrily from within, but the path was dark enough to keep them hidden from any wandering eyes.
On and on they continued, soon reaching one of the more run-down neighborhoods that bled into the docks, the area as close to slums as Vallenia had. They were only at the edge of it, though, still near enough to the wealthier inner-city streets that Kiva didn’t feel like she was going to be mugged and left for dead.
As she trailed after Jaren, she began to wonder if she’d made a mistake in leaving the palace. Even if he was chasing Eidran’s lead, Zuleeka had promised to forewarn the city-based rebels. Jaren wouldn’t find anything — or anyone — that he shouldn’t. That meant there was no point in following him.
But still, Kiva couldn’t help herself.
Especially when she saw him turn down an alley and pause in front of a shadowy building, looking quickly over his shoulder before ducking through a doorway.
Kiva’s eyebrows shot toward her hairline as she approached the scarlet door, the sounds of loud music and raucous laughter coming from within, echoing out into the otherwise silent alley. But it wasn’t only music and laughter she heard — there were also the low sounds that would only come from a Red House, one of Vallenia’s renowned brothels.
Heat touched Kiva’s cheeks as she wondered if she’d been wrong about Jaren’s purpose in leaving the palace. But — no. Caldon, perhaps, might have visited a Red House, but Jaren didn’t strike Kiva as the kind to seek pleasure from strangers. This had to be the address Eidran had given him.
Bracing for what she was about to walk into, Kiva raised her hood before opening the door and stepping inside. The pungent scent of incense burned her nose as her eyes adjusted to the crimson-hued interior, the luminium lights covered in scarlet cloths and casting red shadows across every visible surface.
The parlor was crowded with people, some cloaked and disguised, others already in various states of undress. Some were standing, some reclined on lush wine-colored furniture, others were dancing to the loud, sensual music. Wispy sheets fell from the ceiling as if to offer a sense of privacy, but the fabric was sheer enough to see through, straight out of a voyeur’s dream.
Kiva made her way deeper into the room, keeping her face hidden as she searched for Jaren. There were enough patrons that it took her two full scans before she spotted him talking to a heavyset woman who was pointing toward the corner of the crimson parlor. His cloaked head dipped in thanks before he set out in that direction.
Kiva tried to see what was over there, but there were too many writhing bodies and wispy sheets distorting her view. She edged closer, ignoring the arms reaching out to her as she passed by, the whispered invitations that she quietly declined. Glazed eyes and too-relaxed smiles flooded her vision everywhere she looked, sweat dotting skin despite the coolness of the air, glittery golden powder on lips, noses, fingers.
Angeldust.
Other drugs too, perhaps even a Red House cocktail available only to its patrons.