The Unwritten King

6. Villain of the Piece

Nicholas waited and waited on a sound that never came.

It was the middle of the night, but he was wide awake after sleeping through most of the day. Working hard not to get his hopes up, he climbed out of bed and tested the door.

Unlocked.

The infirmary looked exactly as it had before. There was no hole in the floor, not even a scorch mark to whisper of the attack. The only difference was that Nicholas' hands had been cuffed together rather than to the bed, a precaution that might be touching if he disregarded that he was still cuffed at all, still a prisoner.

Yasmin had come by in the aftermath, her hair a good three inches shorter and a sullenness to her so severe it was like Cairo was playing his illusion tricks, casting her appearance in a smoggy cloud. But there had been no cloud as she provided Nicholas his lunch, just an unsettling lack of sunlight. It made him realize how bright she'd been to begin with, in her own turbulent, maleficent way.

Nicholas had fallen back asleep and woken up to Cairo bringing his dinner and a typical slew of nonsense. He had anticipated the click of the lock like some sad Pavlovian reject, waiting on the respite from the feeling of being watched so long that his soup was cold by the time he sipped it. And he sipped it quietly, still listening, but no click came minutes or hours later.

It could have been a stroke of good luck, but as he crept into the hallway it seemed more like a trap, the kind only the most foolish animal would fall for. What could he possibly gain from sneaking blindly around a hostile castle, except maybe a life sentence?

He continued anyway, following a nameless instinct around corners and up stairs.

He wanted his journal.

Wanted what with it, he couldn't say. Wanted to grab it and run away with it, sure, but that was a pipe dream. He might try it anyway, if he got tired and delirious enough. What more did he have to lose?

Nice try. You're not that brave.

If he was lucky, he could steal it from wherever it was locked up and stash it somewhere in the infirmary to make away with once he'd earned his freedom or figured out an escape. He could study its pages between meals until he learned its secrets. But he would have to bank on its absence going unnoticed, and he wasn't sure about those odds. He could settle just for holding it awhile.

The answers he needed might reveal themselves to him between the pages. The journal might suck him back up and spit him out in his apartment if he stared at it hard enough. He had to at least try.

He tucked himself against the wall like it might give him cover in the vast arching walkways. The torches here were like the city street lights but smaller, bulbs of fire that bounced around in their spherical glass containers, mounted on sconces. The shadows between them were just big enough to step into.

He hadn't seen guards prowling the halls when he walked them with Yasmin and Cairo and could only hope this was true of the rest of the castle. He ventured in the opposite direction of the entrance, where they were most likely to be posted, and left the rest to his crossed fingers, ducking behind columns at the slightest sound.

What was he doing?

He didn't know, but he couldn't stop. It was like he could feel it beckoning to him, his journal. Every time he approached a turn, there was a tug in his gut and he followed it. It was very possible that he was moving aimlessly, each footfall one step closer to his discovery. But he didn't think so.

He studied the walls with a skimming hand, feeling the gaps between stone slabs. A woven map of Caldora tempted him to stop and look, but he settled for slowing his steps enough to confirm that it matched his memory of his drawing, if a bit nicer. He sped up as he passed a series of paintings, overwhelmed by the history of it - royal family after royal family, chronicles of a time that didn't exist. He only lingered over the most recent portrait, a dispassionate little prince sandwiched between a lanky man and woman with his same hard chromium eyes.