Folding the Sky

-37-

They went by riverboat, as Mulaim Chateau was a bit further north, and traipsing up there on foot through the festival crowds would both be too arduous and draw too much attention. So Zuri sat on a bench beside Jem and Kalindi and across from the boys, clutching her skirt between her trembling fingers.

The truth was, the longer she wore the dress, the less she felt like herself. It was a costume, really; she was nothing more than a little girl playing dress up, inventing a new life for herself that existed only in her dreams.

"The outer entrance is locked, of course," Sorin was saying, his tone entirely matter-of-fact, eyes trained on the boat's wooden floor. Even in plain clothes, he was still regal, Zuri thought, a certain intrinsic self-possession glowing like a fine aura from somewhere within him. "I went and checked the other day."

"Not an issue," said Kalindi, her reply automatic. "Aldric or I can take care of that."

Sorin nodded his head. "Good. Then you guys will go in, and meet me back at the kitchen at nine o'clock. That's with or without any of Vernon's things, got that?"

"About that," said Jem with a yawn, tossing her head back. "I don't see the point in leaving before we've searched every corner."

"The point is not overstaying our welcome, Jem. The longer we loiter around there, the more likely it is we're going to get caught," Sorin replied, kicking one long leg over the other, crossing them at the knees. "Considering how cautious everyone here is about Nainoans right now, do you really want to test that?"

Jem pressed her mouth into a firm line. No, none of them wanted to test that.

"Two hours is more than enough time," Zuri offered, laying what she hoped was a comforting hand on Jem's shoulder. Though she spoke to the girl beside her, she was really addressing them all as she added, "We can do this. On the other side of this night is the path to finding Vernon again, and we're not letting him out of our grasp this time, right?"

Jem's face bloomed into one of her winning smiles, her confidence renewed and revitalized. The rest of them murmured their agreement, but soon after sunk into a thoughtful silence, the shared weight of the night ahead of them—and all that could go right and all that could go wrong—like a stone upon their tongues.

It was Sorin that seemed the most perturbed, Zuri couldn't help but notice. Admittedly he was a hard one to read: a castle sitting high on the moors, its wonders endlessly hidden in a thick fog that never seemed to dissipate. Yet she could tell well enough that this silence was different from his usual sort; it was restless, humming, a storm on the verge of release.

Try as she might to catch his eye, however, he never looked up. So Zuri, too, sunk away into her thoughts.

The blare of the riverboat's horn brought her back to this plane of existence; she stood, catching herself against the railing. Cool night air rippled through her dress, her hair, freshwater scent in her nostrils as she leaned out to catch a glimpse. She saw it then; there, sitting like a watchful deity in the distance, was Mulaim Chateau, its white brick doused in champagne pink by the sunlight, gray-blue spires piercing the sky above. A long, shrub-lined drive curved before the pillared front entrance, a fountain bubbling in its center. Lights shimmered from the window like captured stars.

It was...grand, in the purest sense of the word, and once again Zuri felt herself shrinking and shrinking before it all. This was not her place; this was not her life. How on earth was she supposed to pull this off?

Sorin joined her at the railing; Zuri's eyes trailed down to where he gripped the metal bars, his knuckles pink and shaky. "Still an eyesore," he muttered, his eyes reflecting the glittering lights in the chateau's many windows: gold within gold. "Not a thing is different."