The Prince's Mark

Chapter Thirty Six

The stag on the ceiling gazed impassively down on Tracou's prone body. Deer and other hoofed animals could easily stomp a snake to death if they felt threatened, which they often did if they spotted a snake. As long as the snake went undetected, they could avoid getting crushed. Hopefully Tracou could do the same.

Rather than begin immediately, Tracou forced himself to wait. The longer he waited, the more likely Yash would think he slept. But... if he waited too long, he would genuinely fall asleep, which would leave Pendaer exposed.

Chewing on his tongue, Tracou felt around the mosaic with magic. The black honeycomb devoured his magic instantly—even worse than the bars to Mirthal's cell. He had to do this physically. Surely removing something from a wall couldn't be difficult, but physical things tended to go poorly for him.

Tracou took in a breath and let it go. Rolling the base of his wand against his palm, he dampened any noise on his side of the curtain. He could still use magic on himself and other objects... all aside from what he needed.

Easing himself out of the bed, Tracou bit his cheek hard. His vision escaped him briefly despite the care in his movement, like it might when he was sick. He wanted to lie down, to not have to move for the next month or so. But he couldn't do that now. Perhaps when he reached Ergakan again he could sleep as long as he wanted.

Tracou approached the honeycomb shape on the wall, his footsteps softer than a spider's. He stood in front of it for a moment, trying to ignore the feeling of the object absorbing his magic. It tugged at him, always ready to take more and more—anything Tracou could dish out, the honeycomb could consume.

Gritting his teeth, Tracou grabbed the mosaic piece and gently tugged. The faint sound of rock scraping against rock hit him hard. He couldn't get rid of it. With an agonizing pace, Tracou guided the honeycomb inch by inch out of the wall until, finally, its full weight rested in Tracou's hands. Tracou set it on the bed.

The key lay within the hole left by the honeycomb. Tracou took it, and, once he had it, realized he didn't know what he should do with it. He couldn't simply hold it until he left the room. But the key was longer than his hand and three times as heavy—how could he hide it? It would pull down his sleeve and Tracou's pouch was only large enough for money, not long, stupid keys. For now, he lifted his tunic and slid the key into his hose so it rested against his hip. This way his tunic would hide the shape of the key. But... it could slide while he walked. Grimacing, Tracou shoved the teeth of the key into the fabric of his hose. Puncturing his clothes, still the only set he had, wounded him but this way the key would hopefully stay put.

Grabbing the tile again, Tracou went back to the wall. Thusfar this had gone well! He held the honeycomb up to the hole in the wall, ready to slide it back in.

A booming knock on the door made Tracou jerk backward, losing his grip on the mosaic. It slipped from his sweaty hands and hurtled toward the ground along with his heart. Tracou ducked downward and caught the honeycomb just before it smashed into the tile below.

A voice, the same one Tracou had heard the day before, requested something from the other side of the door. Yash said a few words, sounding irritated, but his chair scraped backward.

Shaking, Tracou pushed the honeycomb back into the wall. He tried to keep things quiet, but time was of the essence and he produced a few clacking noises. Then he ducked into the bed, sweat rolling down his forehead. He curled on his side, which was his preferred sleeping position anyway, and tried to ignore the key digging into his skin.

Heavy footfalls approached and Yash burst past the curtain only to hesitate. Perhaps he had forgotten about Tracou napping there because now he moved quietly. But again he paused, this time beside the bed. Tracou held his breath, glad at least that Yash stood behind him.