Chapter One Hundred Thirty-One: Beneath the Painted Throne, Part Two

  He leaned back, stretching like a cat that had just discovered an unattended plate of cream. “I shadowed our esteemed Regent. Quite the challenge, I’ll have you know. The man moves like he’s perpetually late for appointments in seventeen different locations simultaneously. As the day dragged on, he grew increasingly fixated on his tasks, moving with the jittery precision of someone about to skip town, double-checking every detail. He was sweating, distracted. When I subtly cast the tracker onto him, he didn’t so much as twitch.”

  “Tracker?” Alice interrupted.

  “A magical tracker, to be precise,” Dex clarified, his tone carrying the patience of a man explaining the difference between fine wine and vinegar to a child. “Neat little trick I picked up. Only one at a time, but it lets me ping his location every few hours.”

  “Hey, don’t judge.” Dex held up a hand, as if preemptively swatting away criticism. “I went to the library like we talked about—total dead end. So, I did what I do best—I snooped.” A grin tugged at his lips, pride radiating from him like heat off a forge. “Started with the servants’ quarters, worked my way up the social ladder through strategic eavesdropping and a few well-placed bribes disguised as friendly gambling. People talk when they think no one’s listening—or no one cares.”

  He drummed his fingers against the table, each tap punctuating his explanation. “Our Regent keeps an impressive security detail, but every now and then, he dismisses them. Odd, right? He’s got a public office where he plays the part, like an actor in a second-rate traveling troupe, but then there’s his real office...”

  His gaze flicked to Jace, sharp with meaning. “The places where the real answers are kept—the ones locked away from prying eyes and inconvenient questions.”

  Jace studied him with the scrutiny of someone trying to spot the trap in an offer that sounded too good to be true. Before he could speak, Alice asked, “So what exactly are you suggesting?”

  Ell’s eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. “I think we all know what he is suggesting. Something really stupid. Is this really something you think is smart to try, right before the climb?”

  Dex spread his hands, casual but deliberate. “I found access points, blind spots in patrols, and the exact times when security thins to its weakest. I know how to get in, where to look, and how to get out without anyone being the wiser.”

  “This is truly idiotic. A terrible idea, even for you, Dex,” Marcus said.

  “I hate to agree but,” Alice said.

  “Listen, it’s no biggie. Really.” Dex waved a hand, as if brushing away any lingering doubt. “Jace said it himself—he’s got a gut feeling we need to act now. And I for one have learned to trust his feelings. And judging by the Regent’s expression, I’m not even sure he’s still gonna be here tomorrow.”

  He leaned forward, his voice dropping just enough to demand attention. “So, we slip in tonight.” The word landed like a stone in still water, sending ripples through the conversation. “Get in, get what we need, and pop out before sunrise. No harm, no foul.”

  The room erupted into objections, everyone overlapping in a chaotic symphony of disbelief, concern, and the particular brand of exasperation that only Dex could inspire in those fortunate enough to call him friend.

  “Absolutely not—“

  “Have you lost your mind—“

  “The Tower competition starts tomorrow—“

  Dex held up his hands. “Look, everything Jace just said about the Regent? It’s worse than that. There are rumors among the palace staff—people disappearing from the lower ranks, strange sounds from sealed chambers, magic fluctuations that make the senior mages nervous. Any dissent is silenced amongst the staff.” His expression sobered. “Whatever’s happening, it’s escalating. We may not get another chance.”

  Jace turned back to the window, considering. The Tower loomed in the distance, its silhouette a dark promise against the night sky. They had come to Roandia for the Tower, for the climb. Hades himself had emphasized its importance. Even his brother Alex had warned him to stay focused.

  But this...

  Jace’s fingers brushed against the White Raven ring, its cool metal grounding him. “How confident are you in this plan?”

  Ell sighed. Marcus scoffed. Alice shot him a look that carried more concern than words ever could.

  Dex shrugged. “Confident enough not to go alone.”

  “This is madness,” Alice interjected. “You could die, or worse, get kicked from the Tower competition if you’re caught.”

  “Not to mention potentially imprisoned for life or enslaved,” Marcus added grimly. “We used to be able to just log out, so slavery wasn’t an option for the Travelers. But now?” He shook his head. “Jace, I’m not so sure we can rule it out as a consequence.”

  His tone was steady, but the look in his eyes carried genuine concern.

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  Jace stood then and faced them all. “It’s a few hours of sleep against answers we desperately need. This kingdom...” He hesitated, the weight of responsibility settling on him in a way he couldn’t explain. “There’s something wrong here. Something that goes beyond politics or power. If we couldn’t get in and out in time… but we can. I think it’s worth a shot.”

  Ell’s quiet voice cut through the tension. “You said we should focus on the Tower. That the climb was our priority.”

  “It is,” Jace admitted. “But I can’t just ignore this. Not now that I know.”

  For the second time that night, Molly spoke, quiet but carrying something deeper. “If you are called to go, then you must go.”

  Silence followed, thick and heavy. Everyone stared at her, as if waiting for an explanation that never came.

  Then, breaking the stillness like a blade against glass—

  “We’ll go with you,” Marcus said, straightening from the wall, his usual nonchalance giving way to something sharper. Something certain.

  Jace shook his head. “No. Just me and Dex.”

  Alice scoffed. “Because that’s so much safer?”

  “Because it makes tactical sense,” Jace countered. “I can hide, and Dex can get through locks and traps better than anyone I’ve ever met. More people means more noise, more chances to get caught.”

  Dex nodded, serious for once. “Two people moving quick and quiet. In and out before dawn.”

  “And potentially your life, or get kicked from competing in the Tower if you get caught,” Alice repeated, her worry manifesting as anger.

  Jace met her gaze steadily. “It’s worth the risk.”

  Dex sighed dramatically. “I wish Thistle was with us.”

  They all turned to him, a momentary softness touching their expressions at the mention of their absent companion.

  “You know,” Dex continued, “to get into small spaces.”

  The moment shattered. Ell rolled her eyes, Marcus snorted, and Alice threw a balled-up piece of parchment at Dex’s head.

  “What?” Dex protested, sidestepping out of reach. “It’s a legitimate tactical consideration. Gnomes are compact.”

  Despite everything, a smile tugged at Jace’s lips.

  It didn’t last.

  He exhaled, refocusing. “We leave in an hour. Alice, Marcus, Molly, Ell—if we’re not back by dawn…”

  “We’ll go on without you,” Marcus said without hesitation.

  “No,” Jace shot back. “I was going to say come find us and get us out of there.”

  Alice stood, the candlelight casting jagged shadows across her face. “We will. And we’ll burn down whatever—or whoever—gets in our way.”

  Ell nodded, solemn as a judge delivering a death sentence.

  Jace huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. Leave it to Alice to make mass arson sound like a reasonable contingency plan.

  Whatever waited in the Regent’s hidden vaults, whatever secrets festered beneath Roandia’s gleaming fa?ade, he wasn’t facing it alone.

  Not anymore.

  The hour passed too quickly.

  Jace and Dex hunched over a rough sketch of the palace, Dex’s memory serving as their only guide. Patrol routes, access points—every detail committed to memory, every risk measured against the clock.

  Alice handed each of them a small vial filled with inky liquid that shimmered like trapped moonlight. “Shadow essence,” she said. “A rare alchemical blend. It won’t hide you from sight or sound, but it’ll suppress your magical signatures—temporarily.” Her gaze sharpened. “These won’t last more than an hour. Use them only when you’re inside.”

  Marcus unrolled a slim leather pouch, revealing a set of thin, flexible tools. Dex let out a low whistle, picking one up with practiced fingers. “Dwarven steel,” he murmured, turning it over. “Nice. Don’t need it, though.”

  He reached into his inventory and pulled out a small, unremarkable-looking pouch—so black it seemed to swallow the light around it. He loosened the drawstrings and tipped it just enough for Marcus to catch a glimpse inside.

  Marcus sucked in a sharp breath. “Etherium picks. How?”

  “Picked them up in my travels,” Dex said with an easy shrug.

  Marcus shook his head, letting out a slow, appreciative whistle. “Damn.”

  Then Dex narrowed his eyes. “Hold on—why do you have a thief’s kit anyway, Marcus?”

  Marcus snapped the pouch shut with practiced nonchalance and disappeared it into his inventory. “I have my reasons.”

  Jace smirked. “One of these days, you’re going to have to tell me where exactly you wandered off to, Dex. And how you came by these new skills.”

  Dex smiled faintly. “One of these days.”

  The night stretched on, quiet but charged. One by one, they pushed back their chairs, exchanging brief nods before heading to their separate rooms. All but Alice, who hung back.

  “Be safe out there,” she said.

  “Just a casual night of breaking into the most secure building in the city,” he said dryly. “What could possibly…”

  “Don’t,” Alice said quickly, placing a finger on his lips. Before removing it with a blush. “Just… come back.”

  Jace smirked. “Always do.”

  “I mean it. If you don’t, I will find a way to have Molly resurrect you here and then kill you again myself.”

  Most of Roandia slept, gathering strength for tomorrow’s grand opening of the Tower. The climb would begin at noon, drawing thousands to witness the start of the competition that would decide who ascended and who remained forgotten in the dust.

  If they succeeded tonight, Jace and Dex would be among them.

  If they failed…

  Sleep should have come easily. It didn’t.

  They would only get a few hours of rest, and Jace knew it. But exhaustion meant nothing to a mind that refused to settle.

  When sleep finally took him, it pulled him somewhere else—somewhere warm, wrapped in the flickering glow of hearth light and the low murmur of quiet taverns. Familiar sounds cradled him: the hush of whispered reassurances, the clink of mugs raised in silent understanding.

  And through it all, a song wove its way into the dream—haunting, tender, curling around him like a forgotten lullaby.

  Something stirred deep in his soul. Something ancient. Something waiting.

  “In golden fields where earth and sky,

  She wandered lost, her heart’s lone cry.

  Beneath the stars in night’s embrace,

  She moved with grace, a gentle pace.

  His words were veiled in shadows deep,

  Guarded secrets, night would keep.

  A maiden’s plea, a gentle sigh,

  Beneath the tree where sorrows lie.

  In fields of gold, where dreams do bloom,

  She shed her tears, the silver moon.

  Unknowing of his love’s true flame,

  In absence burned, a silent name.

  In fields where light and dreams entwine,

  Echoes of love forever shine.

  Alone she roamed, her heart a tome,

  Forever seeking love, a home.”

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