Page 63 of The Oracle of Dusk

She pulled off her gown in one fluid movement and tossed it at him.

“Hold that.”

He pulled her gown from his face only to nearly choke on his gasp. Underneath her gown, she wore trousers that fitted her like a second skin and a sheer, lacey nightgown that ended at her waist. Triad’s tits, how did the men of her homeland not walk around gawking every moment of the day? Her attire left nothing to the imagination.

And yet, he imagined.

She dropped to her knees and grunted as she moved a rock from the wall. Theron swallowed, feeling the faintest blush cross his cheeks.

“Hand that to me once I’m on the other side,” she instructed him.

“Right.”

She crawled through a hole in the wall, testing his honour with every wriggle. Once she was through, she put her hand back under and wiggled her fingers.

“Your Majesty?”

He handed her the gown and considered his options. There was no one present to enforce his captivity inside the guest palace, though it would be best to return before his absence was noted. He had no intention of running from his duties as a king, but surely a trip into the Viridian capital would be an interesting diversion.

Theron gazed at the tiny hole in the wall. Shoddy workmanship. Typical Viridian laziness. There wasn’t a chance he could fit through the same tiny crack she had. But going over? He would land in the servant’s laneways on the other side. He backed up and raced down the incline as fast as he could, using his momentum to climb the wall, grab the top and vault over. Aurora squeaked as he landed next to her, her gown covering the scandalous clothes beneath. She frowned, adjusting her hair to cover her elongated ears and her gown to make her appear as flat-chested as a child. Disguise complete, she took his hand in hers and led the way, escaping through the narrow servant’s lanes snaking around the perimeter of the guest palace and melting into the bustle of the capital.

It wasn’t nearly as splendid as Altanus, nor were its citizens as well fed or clothed. Sickness and despair lingered in the dark alleys, and children ran barefoot through dirty streets. Did the queen have no pride? No shame? How could she think herself better than him when the people in her capital suffered despite her good harvests and overflowing treasury? Was she even making proper sacrifices to the spirits and tangible gods?

“Look! A market stall!” Aurora said, pulling him closer to inspect the goods.

“Is this your first time in a city?”

“No, of course not but—oh! Is that how that’s supposed to look? That makes so much more sense now,” she said, her eyes alighting on another stall.

Before he could chide her, she was distracted once more, oohing and aahing over the strangest things. From the way people walked on the raised sidewalks, to the flow of traffic, to the height of the apartment buildings, to the paintings on the walls of businesses, to the explicit graffiti scrawled across every surface. All the while, she peppered him with questions. He answered her queries about everything from children’s toys to how concrete was made. What in the Loom had this woman’s homeland looked like for these things to fascinate her?

After a while, he gave up trying to keep her on track. Maybe the rumours of fairies and their flighty, whimsical natures were not so far off the mark. She flitted from stall to stall, from one bit of everyday paraphernalia to another, never seeming to tire. But as the sun signalled the end of the afternoon, he began to worry they would be discovered outside their cells. No need to ruin her potential future escape just because she couldn’t stay focused. Though if this was how she normally acted, her freedom would be short-lived. He was fairly certain the gates of Boreas closed at last light.

“If you wish to make good on your escape, you’ll need to be more mindful of the time.”

“Hmmm? Oh, no, we have time yet. And I’m not leaving today. But you’re right, we should probably go there now.”

“And where is ‘there’ exactly?”

“You’ll see,” she said, a smile on her face.

Tugging him along to the temple district, she slipped into the alley behind the temple of Knowledge with utter confidence. She looked both ways to ensure there was no one else around and pushed in one of the bricks near the ground.

“Lead me to the fathomless depths of Knowledge,” she whispered.

The bricks dropped down and moved aside, revealing a hidden door.

“How did you…”

Who exactly was this woman? How did she know about this? Not even his spies knew about a secret chamber underneath the temple of Knowledge. Did she know that some people would pay a king’s ransom for such information?

“It’s a secret. Now, hurry up, before someone sees us.”

He followed her down into the cool passageway as she closed the entrance behind them, leaving them in utter darkness. She took his hand in hers as his eyes failed to adjust.

“How can you see?”

“You can’t?”

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