Page 78 of Avalon Tower

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Page 78 of Avalon Tower

With a racing heart, I slip further into the crowd, blending in, keeping my expression slack as I gaze at the siren. From the corner of my eye, I see the prince whisper something to the woman in his lap. She gets off him, and he stands, turning to the door. Shit. I have a feeling he’s heading back to his room to fuck that woman.

I need to warn Freya.

One of the women in his group catches his sleeve, smiling at him, imploring him to stay, buying me precious time. I keep my gait slow and unhurried so as not to attract attention, but I’m on my way to the corridor. The further I get from the siren’s music, the easier it is to focus. It’s mercifully empty out here.

Beneath vaulted ivory arches, I hurry toward the stairwell. The prince’s chambers are on the third floor, and that’s where I’ll find Freya. I just want to make sure I get there before Talan does.

Lifting the hem of my dress, I bound up the stairs two at a time. On the third floor, I push through a door on a landing. Mullioned windows stretch up to a high ceiling, and vines grow over the stones. I stumble, pretending to be drunk. There are guards standing outside Talan’s door, and I need a good cover. His door is twenty feet tall and painted green, with two enormous guards standing out front. With a dazed smile, I stumble closer to them in a zigzag.

“Excuse me? I seem to be a bit lost. Can you direct me to my room?” I slur my words, my face slack, talking just loudly enough for Freya inside to hear.

He smirks at me, amused by my drunkenness. “Which room is yours?”

I frown. “I don’t recall, exactly,” I say in a loud and drunken voice. “It’s the one with the tapestry of the diving hawk.”

Diving hawk was our code word to indicate that the prince is coming.

“I’m not sure where that is,” the guard says. “But if you want to wait for me down at the main hall, I can help you look when my shift is over.”

The door opens, and Freya steps out, a bulk of sheets in her hands. She looks at me. “Can I help you?”

“She’s lost,” the guard says. “Can’t find her room.”

Freya grunts, as if annoyed at the hassle. “Come with me, madam.” She rolls her eyes at the guard, and he grins at her.

She grabs my arm, tugging me close to the stairs.

“The prince left the cabaret,” I whisper. “I didn’t know if he was coming up here.”

“Fine,” Freya says. “The map isn’t there. I looked through every inch of his room.”

In the spiral stairwell, she pulls me aside. I’m still catching my breath.

“I think I saw him,” she whispers. “Earlier. The Dream Stalker. He scares the shit out of me.”

I swallow. “Yeah.” At some point, I’d have to tell her what happened, but there isn’t time now.

As we get closer to the lowest floor, she goes ahead. There’s no reason for a chambermaid to be hanging out with a lady.

When a minute has passed, I make my way outside to a balcony overlooking the sea. Below us, the waves pound on the black rocks. The salty wind whips at me as I cross the terrace. The three of them are already waiting. The door closes behind me.

“It’s not in his room,” Freya whispers.

Raphael curses quietly under his breath. “Not in the vault, either. And we checked the logbook. The prince hasn’t deposited anything lately.”

Under the moonlight, he looks out over the dark ocean. With his dark expression, it doesn’t take telepathic powers to figure out what he’s thinking. This map was his one hope of finding his sister.

For Raphael, these maps weren’t just an MI-13 mission. Finding the prisons in those maps might help him recover the only family he has left.

CHAPTER 25

“We need to leave,” Freya says.

“Wait.” Raphael whispers. “Maybe the map is in the châtelain’s chambers. That would make sense, wouldn’t it?”

Freya glances back through the doors. “Raphael, there are a thousand places the map could be.” Her voice is sharp. “We can’t bumble around here. If we stay much longer, the scheduled coast patrol will block our escape. And at some point, someone might wonder why Viviane isn’t getting on stage—”

“Go down to the boat. If I’m not there in ten minutes, leave without me.” Desperation laces his tone.




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