Her body kept moving, determinedly, not having a plan, until she realized the music was getting louder.
Of course. You can’t bloody help yourself.
Going to see an orchestra was an idiotic idea. Orchestras meant people and if Jester so easily identified her asother,how would she not draw the attention of every Demon, Devil, or worse in this mansion?
Admonishing her instincts, she took an immediate right down a deserted hallway.
Leo made everything sound so easy as if the palace were full of other wandering soulless people looking for their contracts. But there she was, out in the open in an unfamiliar plane of existence, trying tostealsomething from a Devil.
It was the first time it hit her. She’d known that was the goal. Get the tome back. But it was only now that she had understood the consequences. What an idiotic thing to do—surely that would violate her contract. And if so, she’d become a sleeper!
She groaned.
Satisfied that she had put enough space between her and Jester, she halted her march.
Okay. Where to start? library?
The hallway was lit sparingly with torches every several feet. All the doors seemed identical except for one, which had gemstone details veining through it. She approached it cautiously. The red crystalline features ran between gaps in the wood, looking like lava running up and down from the outside. Her stomach growled.
So pretty.
She tried the handle. Locked. She grumbled in frustration.
The plate behind the metallic knob was carved withintricate floral patterns and held a large keyhole, just large enough to peek into. But no matter how hard Ren squinted, she couldn’t make out anything from the other side.
She retrieved her blade, placed it into the keyhole, and jiggled. The door didn’t budge, but the back plate made a clicking sound—a sound that provoked the semblance of recognition.
She scanned the hall, looking for inspiration, and silently approached the torch bracket in front of her. She suddenly felt a momentary, quick vibration from her piccolo as if in encouragement. It was the only other thing she had brought besides her gilded dagger. A small token of comfort.
Each bracket was adorned with varying sizes of glorious red gems held together with long and metallic arms and decorated with artful and delicate figures of Devils holding pikes and dancing.
Clasping with both hands on one of the miniatures, she gave a tug. The metal was strong but slightly rusted and pliable. Ren hiked up her skirts to grab at her dagger. She propped the sheathed dagger on the bottom of the bracket, supported her leg on the wall, and put all her weight on the dagger. After several seconds, she felt a give and heard the echoing clank of metal hitting a stone.
Ren, hardly believing her plan had worked. She grabbed her newly acquired lock-pick but hesitated. Her dark eyes roved over the red gems as the flames bounced through them, creating a kaleidoscope of designs on the wall. She wet her lips, reached for the largest of them, and placed the hilt of her dagger against the prongs holding it into place. It didn’t take nearly as much force to free, landing gently in Ren’s expectant palm.
Her breath caught. It was…a masterpiece. Something she was convinced could only exist by some otherworldly magic. Then he came.
Oh, my Renata. You delight me so very much. You greedy, greedy girl.
She whirled her dagger poised in her hand, ready to strike. But the hall was abandoned.
Ren clenched her teeth together.
“I’m not playing your games,” she gritted out. “I saidno!”
Her voice echoed through the empty halls, and the torch instantly snuffed out as waves of black smoke floated like steam off her body.
Ren spun again, swiping her dagger through the air wildly, finding no target.
She could still see as the other torches’ flames danced around, flickering as the blackness moved towards them, dissipating right before it could engulf the flames.
The effect didn’t last long. It never did. It rose and curled around her and soon faded as if she were a snuffed candle letting off her final smoky tendrils.
For an instant, she thought about abandoning the den, continuing to walk until she could no longer see the palace. But her stubbornness won out against her trepidation. Nothing was going to stop her from finishing what she started. She slipped her prize into her bodice and approached the door.
Delicately, she inserted the small metal piece into the lock and instinctively knew to close her eyes and…listen. She could hear small clicks, little tinkling notes telling her when to twist and when to add force, like when her fingers knew how to grip a knife or fly across the openings in her piccolo. It took about a minute, but finally, she heard a satisfying clink.
Ren smiled at herself and quietly pushed the door open.