The Hour of the Crow

Chapter 18: The Secrets of a Rasirian Prince

It was impossible to miss Prince Rabyatt's private quarters: the thick, wooden door spelled his name in gold-clad letters. Inna followed the curves of the elegant letters with a finger. Through her eyelashes, she searched for spying servants, but the corridor was deserted. It was only logical; the prince had left the city weeks ago, so there was no need to tidy up the bed or to do any more cleaning save for sweeping the floors once a week.

She released a slow, controlled breath and pushed down the door handle, shining with gold, to slip inside. Though outwardly serene, as though she had every right to be here, her heart raced with reckless nerves. She was not a burglar; Arran was, with his unusual magic, but she hadn't wanted to get him into more trouble than he already was. After all, she had decided to investigate Rabyatt's apartment on an impulse.

Last night, she had subjected the Shah of Rasir to a subtle interrogation. With the memories of her deranged father fresh in her mind, the question of where Rabyatt had found the Sphere of Truths kept gnawing at her. The Shah, however, had not expressed in any way that he had been aware of the Sphere's presence in his palace. Not that she had expected him to; a wise Shah would never have given up a powerful artifact like that for the sake of a political marriage.

So that was why she was here, breaking into Rabyatt's quarters. If she discovered the Sphere's original hiding place, perhaps she could also figure out why it was tearing her father's mind to shreds, and why it hadn't had a similar effect on her.

She didn't comprehend the Sphere, and she hated stumbling around in the dark.

Besides, if Rabyatt had a hidden agenda, she had to find out. For the sake of her city. With her father's mental condition deteriorating every day and she herself, the crown princess, gone, Rabyatt might decide to take advantage of the situation to ... to carry out whatever schemes he had been devising.

The door closed behind her with a soft click. She leaned against it, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth. Her hand crept into her pocket involuntarily, fingers grasping the warmth of the amber soulstone. Her heartbeat synchronized with the steady pulse of the energy it contained. Where should she start looking? What was she even looking for? A secret diary, left lying about for a lucky soul to find?

She shook her head, drove the pessimism out of her heart and tiptoed to the first door on her right.

A library. Well, the ideal place to start looking for Rabyatt's research on the Sphere.

The prince's private library was smaller than the one in her own apartment at home, yet she could not deny that the view of the oasis formed an idyllic background. She imagined herself curled up in one of the high-back chairs, the smell of old parchment clinging to her fingertips as she turned the pages.

Zazi poked Inna's cheek with her cold nose, hard. Inna blinked awake from her daydreams. Scolding herself, she reminded herself to hurry up and strolled along the bookcases, although she couldn't keep herself from stroking the book spines with her fingers.

A quiet huff tickled her ears. By the time we find something useful among these books, your hair will be white as the moon and I will have long shriveled up to dust, Zazi remarked, her tone dryer than the parchment all around them.

Inna stifled a laugh. "Oh, how I love your eternal optimism, Zazi."

A hiss, the beginning of a sharp retort, but then the snake quieted down. Those books look like they've gone through many hands, she said instead.

Inna followed her gaze to a shelf at eye-level. Two books in particular caught her eye, both with spines so worn the original green color had faded almost completely. She hooked a finger behind one of them and pulled it out, blowing a thin layer of dust off the cover. The title had been carved into the leather: The Nine Prophets of the New World. Frowning, she reached for the second book as well: The Magical Wars: An Account of the Dark Century by Afthar The Sane.