After a dozen instances of this, I held the half-rotted atlas between two fingers. A few bugs scurried from between the pages, irritated at having their home disturbed for the first time in what appeared to be centuries.
Clearly, this was it. The answer to all our problems. The key to historically unknown power.
I gave Septimus a deadpan stare that must have said everything my words didn’t.
“We came all this way,” he said, letting out a puff of cigarillo smoke through his nostrils. “Have a little patience, dove.”
“Evelaena said that Vincent never returned here.”
“Evelaena doesn’t seem like the most reliable person. Not to insult a host.”
“No,” Raihn said, “but she doesn’t seem like she would just forget that the uncle she’s obsessed with showed up.”
“Unless she’s keeping it from us intentionally. He kept plenty of memorabilia from this place. Why else would he do that?”
“Nostalgia?” Mische offered, but even she didn’t sound convinced.
Vincent had no love for this place. I’d suspected that before, and now, there was little doubt of that in my mind. He wasn’t the type to wax nostalgic about the past, especially not parts of it that he felt little affection for. Lahor certainly fell into that category.
If he’d kept any connection to this place… it would have been for a reason.
I sighed.
“What am I supposed to do?” I muttered. “Just touch everything in this castle and see… what, exactly?”
Septimus shrugged.
“You’ll know.”
“What if I don’t?”
“Then we wasted a trip and will try something else.”
More time to search. More time for the Bloodborn to sink their claws into this kingdom. More time for Raihn to establish his hold on it, too.
I heaved another exasperated sigh and kept wading through objects.
Hours and hours and hours of useless shit.
Eventually, we gave up. So much of the keep was so badly damaged. Even the artifacts that seemed like they had once been quite valuable were now little more than junk. I doubted that I would just magically “know” when I would come across a possession of Vincent’s, but even still, it was obvious to me that these were worth nothing to him.
Eventually, when we’d made it through all the unoccupied, safe rooms of the keep, we allowed ourselves to rest.
My suite had only one bedroom—Raihn, to my relief, took the couch without complaint, leaving Mische to sleep beside me. She was snoring within minutes of crawling into bed, limbs sprawled out in all directions.
I curled up into a little ball and stared at the window at the glimpse of night-drenched Lahor through the opening in the curtains. Dawn was still at least an hour away. Sleep called to me, but I didn’t want to know what I’d see in its depths.
Eventually, I couldn’t just lie there anymore.
I slipped out of bed and grabbed my blades, going out to the sitting room to see— “Where are you going?”
Raihn stopped mid-movement. He was half-shrouded by gauzy curtains, leaning out the open window.
He looked me up and down, an eyebrow raised.
“Did you sleep in your armor?”
I glanced down at myself, briefly self-conscious.
“Where are you going?” I asked again, instead of answering.
“Probably the same place you were. Feeling restless, too?”
I didn’t want to admit it aloud.
I glanced back at the open bedchamber door, and Mische sleeping beyond it. Reading my face, Raihn said, “Oh, don’t worry about her. Nothing wakes her.”
Then he outstretched his hand. “Come on. Let’s go get into some trouble.”
I didn’t move. Fine, he was right, I was going to sneak out into the city. Admitting that to him was a whole different concession.
He sighed.
“I know you, Oraya. Don’t tell me you aren’t curious.”
I peered over his shoulder, out the open window to the eerie, desolate skyline beyond.
He smiled. “I thought so. Come on. Let’s go.”
This was a stupid idea.
I took his hand anyway.
Lahor had seemed abandoned when we first arrived here, and the strangeness of the keep—seemingly occupied only by Evelaena and her stable of Turned children—had only made that sensation stronger. But the city, while dilapidated, was not deserted. People did indeed actually live here, congregating in the few habitable buildings throughout the city.
Or maybe “living” was too generous a term.