“Do you think it will support our weight?” August said, testing the bottom shelf with his foot.
“It has to,” I said. “If it’s what they used as a ladder, then it should support both our weights, don’t you think? Especially without the weight of the books.” August thought this over for a moment and then nodded.
“I’ll go first,” I said. I tested the bottom shelf with my foot. It didn’t budge or creak or make any indication that it wouldn’t support my weight. I grabbed an upper shelf and used it to prop myself up. It held. “Seems like it’s fine,” I said.
“Be careful,” August said.
“I will,” I said. I climbed higher. When I reached the top shelf, I felt the entire structure start to tilt. “August!” I said. He looked up at me, realized what was happening, then grabbed the bookshelf at the bottom. He held it steady. Without the weight of the books, the bookshelf wasn’t stable. I almost fell. I probably would have been crushed under the weight of the bookshelf had August not saved me.
“Thanks,” I said, looking down at August.
“Guess I won’t be following you,” he said, and when I didn’t immediately understand, added, “There’s no one to steady the bookshelf for me.”
“Let’s take this one step at a time,” I said, looking back up to the seam in the wall. “Pun intended,” I muttered.
“What?” August said.
“Nothing,” I said. “Nothing.” I continued to climb the bookshelf. Reaching the top, I steadied myself, then looked back down at August. “You okay?”
“I got you,” he said. “Go ahead.” I ran my hands along the seam. There was definitely something hidden behind the wall. A false panel? I traced the seam to the ceiling. But how to open it?
“Press against it,” August said, and when I didn’t follow his suggestion, “Apply some pressure.” I did. The wall pushed inward and I heard a loud click. When I withdrew my hand, the wall popped open. I looked down at him. “That was deceptively simple,” I said.
“The placement is part of the security,” he said. “Who’s coming into the royal chambers and climbing the bookshelves? No one would think to look there unless they were desperate.”
“Which we are,” I said.
“If enemies stormed the castle and were looking for the king and queen,” he said, “they’d be long gone by now.”
“Let’s hope they aren’t,” I said. I pulled the panel away from the wall. It opened on hinges and swung effortlessly. Behind the panel was a metal hatch with a large circular valve. To the side of the valve was a keyhole.
“The good news,” I said, “is that I found the escape hatch.”
“And the bad?” August said.
“It has a lock,” I said.
“Try it anyway,” he said. “Maybe they didn’t lock it behind them.” I took my right hand and tried to turn the valve. It turned the slightest bit but I couldn’t get the leverage needed with just one hand.
“I need to use both hands,” I said. “Make sure you have a tight hold on the bookshelf.”
“I got you,” August said. I looked down and he was using both hands to steady the bookshelf. I trusted him. I took my left hand that was holding the bookshelf and gripped the metal valve. I nearly lost my balance in the moment it took to transition. Then I was fine, standing on the shelves with two feet, both hands on the metal valve. I had to use all my strength to get it to turn, but after the initial twist it turned more easily.
“It wasn’t locked,” I said. “Good call.”
“What’s behind it?” August said, craning his neck. “I can’t see.” I pulled the valve to open the hatch. It wouldn’t give. Then I thought to push. The hatch hissed with the release of air and immediately I was hit with a sickening smell. A wall of airborne rot. I nearly lost my balance again.
“God,” August said, letting go of the bookshelf to lift the collar of his robes to cover his nose. “What is that?” I fought back the urge to vomit; I fought back the urge to climb back down the bookshelf and not look at what was inside the passageway. I fought back the urge to forget my mission to find the king and queen and forget that I had ever found the hatch. Instead, I forced myself to hold my breath, to climb higher so that I could look inside the hatch’s open mouth. Beyond the hatch and the valve there was a short, huddled passage, and past that there was a ladder leading down. I peeked over the side, and even though I only saw what I saw for a moment, the image is seared into my brain.
Three bodies. King Abstract, separate from the other two, his throat slit wide open in a smile and his body surrounded by a pool of blood. Queen Complex, her hand still gripping a dagger, even in death, the dagger dug down deep into the body of a woman with silver hair and a green robe. The queen’s royal robes peppered with stab wounds. A Daughter of Despair, tangled with the queen, fighting with her for possession of the dagger that she would never retrieve.
I scrambled out of the passage, made my way to the hatch’s open mouth, and looked down at August.
“We need to leave,” I said. “It’s not safe here.”
“Why?” August said. “What did you find?”
“The king and queen are dead,” I said.
“Ohhhh fuck,” August said. “Oh no. Where do we go?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “But we need to leave. Now.”
WHISPER FLUX, NEON FARMER Aorta’s a bad place. Filled with bandits, thieves, whores, mercs, you name it. It’s a haven for bad guys. For people who don’t care about the law. We need to be careful.
You’re the one who said, “Why do you know about this place?” And I told you, “Because it’s the closest thing I’ve got to a home.”
What? No. I’m not going to talk about you as if you aren’t here. That’s weird.
You’re weird. I don’t care about your book or whatever.
You three built a stretcher thing and we walked together to Aorta. I told you guys along the way: you need to be careful, you need to be vigilant, you need to never let your guard down. Because even though the Aortas know me, even though we have a sort of relationship where they leave me alone, if they sense weakness, they’ll strike. If they know you have all that gold on you, it won’t matter that you’re a prince, they’ll rob and kill you.
I still don’t believe you’re a prince. Not really.
Whatever you say. Aren’t princes supposed to be handsome?
There’s a stitcher in the center of town. Near the Heart to Heart. There’s a reason there’s a stitcher near the pub and that’s because the Heart to Heart is a violent place. For reasons you’d probably guess.
If you help my dad, well, I don’t know what I’ll do. I don’t have much to offer you. There’s the neon, but we need that to eat. Might need to use some of it to pay the doctor to help my dad.
I say doctor, but he’s not really a doctor. He’s just a merc. Like everyone else in Aorta.
I don’t have anything to offer you. Except information. You said you were looking for the Spire, right? Well, I know where it is. You help my dad and I’ll help you get to where you’re going.