The two Publici exchanged a glance before Lock spoke, his voice low but confident. "Let's check the back. The most important relics are always there."
Together, they strode through the grand halls of the museum. Pillars loomed above them, their bases surrounded by ancient sculptures, strange rock formations, and artifacts glinting with the sheen of resin. The silence between them was only broken by the faint echoes of their footsteps, soft against the polished floor. Their eyes scanned every corner, searching for the book and the arm.
Mirak hesitated, the quiet pressing against his mind like a weight. Finally, he asked, "How did you become a Publici?"
The question lingered in the air, heavy and unexpected. Lock stopped mid-step, the pale light of Rhea spilling through a nearby window and illuminating his sharp features. For a moment, Mirak thought he wouldn't answer. But Lock's gaze drifted out the window, his voice emerging as a low whisper. "I was betrayed."
The words seemed to hang there, fragile and raw. Then, with no further explanation, Lock walked past Mirak and into another section of the museum. His tone, when he finally continued, carried a wistful edge. "I thought I had gotten out clean. I planned everything perfectly—no loose ends, no mistakes."
He paused again, glancing at a sculpture of some long-forgotten hero. "But I was wrong."
Mirak swallowed hard, the sincerity of Lock's words sinking into him like a stone in water. "For what it's worth," he said quietly, "I'm sorry. You didn't deserve to become a Publici."
Lock turned, his expression unreadable. "Neither did you."
Mirak pushed forward, his voice steady but cautious. "You know... you don't have to stay with the Revenant. If you wanted to leave, I wouldn't tell anyone. You could have a clean escape."
Lock gave a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. "That's kind of you, Mirak. But we're stuck together, you and I. You don't just walk away from the Revenant. Besides..." He gestured at the museum's vaulted ceiling, as if it represented the whole of their cursed world. "Not everyone gets sent to a world of water and makes it back alive. I've already cheated death once. They'd find me and kill me within a week if I tried."
"Still partners?" Mirak asked, though he suspected he already knew the answer. Perhaps, someday, they would sit together by the sea with drinks in hand, sharing the truths they still kept hidden.
Lock gave him a rare, faint smile. "Partners."
They clasped arms briefly before Lock's gaze flicked to the surrounding room. His grin widened. "Looks like we're in the history of Koona exhibit."
"It seems so," Mirak replied, his voice tinged with curiosity.
The room was a museum within a museum, crammed with ancient wonders. Stone dials, weathered sculptures, and relics of an era long gone lined the walls. Machines from an older time dangled from the ceiling, their intricate gears and beams frozen in time. Massive ship models—larger than any Publici dwelling—hovered midair, suspended by thick ropes.
Off to one side, atop a polished podium, rested a massive tome. The thick book was nearly the size of Mirak's arm, its faded cover etched with symbols of Koona's architecture.
Lock paused at another display, his eyes catching on a blade mounted within a glass case. The placard beneath it read: The dagger that killed the first Didact, Tolecnal. Lock's fingers hovered over the case for a moment before he opened it with deliberate ease. The weapon's hilt was shaped like a silver rose, its hooked blade gleaming faintly even in the dim light.
He held it up, his smile sharp. "We're thieves, aren't we? Might as well upgrade the equipment."
Mirak approached the podium and carefully lifted the massive tome. "I take it this is the book we're after. It's all about the architecture of Koona."
"You even volunteered to carry it," came Selene's voice, smooth and teasing. She strode into the room, a metal arm tucked under one arm and a bag of stolen artifacts slung over the other.
"Good timing," Lock remarked, his eyes narrowing slightly.
Selene, unfazed, continued, "There's a group of guards—"
Before she could finish, the rhythmic thud of boots against glass interrupted her. Seven figures loomed above them, their outlines sharp against the shimmering dome.
"Seven of them," Selene finished, her voice almost bored. "We need to leave before the Saki show up."
The group moved toward the rope they'd used to climb in, but the guards were already pouring into the room. Selene's lips curved into a predatory smile as she stepped forward. "I'll deal with them. You two start climbing."
The first guard swung his falx sword in a vicious overhead arc, but Selene ducked beneath it, her fist slamming into his chin with a sickening crack. He crumpled instantly, his weapon clattering to the floor.
Selene grimaced, flexing her hand before popping a flake of resin into her mouth. Her nails lengthened into wicked, cartilage-like claws as she murmured, "I'd prefer it if all of you left. But I doubt that's going to happen."
She moved like liquid shadow, darting through the guards with deadly precision. Her claws found every gap in their chainmail, slicing into exposed flesh and leaving blood pooling on the polished floor.
"These were costly boots," she muttered, glancing at the crimson stains with disdain. The last few guards faltered, fear creeping into their stances as they watched their comrades drop like flies. When they finally broke and ran, Selene tilted her head back with a satisfied sigh. "Shame. I was hoping for more of a challenge."
She turned to the others, her tone brisk. "You've got the book, right, Mirak?"
"Yes," he said, struggling slightly under its weight.
"Good haul," Lock remarked, already pulling himself up the rope. "Volim's probably tapping away up top, wondering what's taking us so long."
They finished their ascent without further trouble. As they emerged onto the roof, Volim stood waiting, leaning heavily on his walking stick.
"A group of Saki are approaching," Volim said curtly. "We need to scatter."
Selene grinned, slinging Volim over her shoulder despite his protests. "No theatrics, Selene," he grumbled, his tone as dry as parchment.
"We'll meet you two back at the hideout," she said, flashing a mischievous smile. Then, with a dramatic flourish, she leapt from the rooftop, laughing as she tumbled through the cityscape.
Mirak rushed to the edge, watching her somersault through the stormy streets of Koona. She moved with an impossible grace, disappearing into the northern section of the city.
Lock let out a low whistle. "She's got style. I might just lose that bet."
"Focus," Mirak snapped, spotting the edge of white-tipped wings slicing through the misty storm. "The Saki are closing in."
Lock grinned, already stepping back. "I've got my own way out. Try not to die, partner." With that, he jumped, vanishing into the swirling fog below.
Now alone, Mirak stood on the rooftop, his thoughts racing. The sound of Akash's voice, ghostly and teasing, echoed in his mind. "You think too much, Mirak. Just let go. Or are you scared?"
"I'm not scared, you bastard," Mirak muttered, wiping his eyes.
And for the first time, he jumped.