“It’s the best option,” I said. “I’ll be careful, trust me. Good find, Niddhogg.”
The three of us spent the rest of that day in the library, digging through art books and architectural plans. We chased every lead we could find about our target, reading interviews the current owner had given to magazines for art aficionados. I learned more about security systems and art preservation in those twelve hours than I had in my life so far. It wasn’t enough, I knew that, but it gave me a better-than-even shot at pulling this off and ammunition to talk my friends off the ledge when I sprang my scheme on them. Satisfied we’d found all we could, I dedicated the rest of my alone time to meditation and cycling.
It was amazing how much I got done when I didn’t have to sleep. The talisman stitched to my thread looked tarnished, but it was far from breaking. My best estimate gave me weeks without exhaustion aspects, and even Hahen had to admit my trick was better than the Sleepless technique. The only downside was how long the nights could get when I was alone. Even Hahen had to rest, or, as he put it, refresh his mind and spirit. That left me to wander the halls of the School when meditation left me bored to tears. Even after so many years at the School, I’d never gotten used how lonely it could be without students filling its corridors.
When my friends returned, we celebrated with a feast in the dining hall. We drank a bottle of wine the spirit staff allowed us, ate more of a prime rib than was decent, and devoured plate after plate of side dishes so tasty I almost regretted filling my belly with rare beef.
Almost.
We prepared through the night, checking and rechecking the gear they’d brought back to ensure everything fit and was in good repair. I was surprised at how well Clem had picked out a coat, boots, and a snowsuit for me. They all fit like a glove. Finally, Abi clapped his hands together and gathered us around.
“It’s time,” he said. “There’s one intern left at school to run the portal for us, and I trust him.”
“This is awesome,” Eric said, bouncing from foot to foot and punching at the air. “We’ve got this.”
Despite Eric’s exuberant assurances, we were all smart enough to prepare for a rough fight ahead. My mother’s forces could use the same trick to find me, and that would put a small army of heretics on top of us soon after I left the School. Which was why I had to run a little interference of my own.
“There’s something I have to do,” I said after the Abi opened the portal to Siberia. “It won’t take me long, and then I’ll join you.”
The three of them stared at me incredulously. Hahen, shivering from the cold that blew in through the portal, wagged a finger at me.
“I told him it was a bad idea,” the rat spirit said. “But he won’t listen.”
“It’s a good idea. I promise,” I told my friends. “When you hit the ground, start walking toward the rift. I’ll follow your trail, and I’m faster than all of you except for maybe Eric. We’ll be together in no time.”
My friends exchanged glances, all of them looking nervous and unsettled by this last-minute change. Finally, Eric threw up his hands and stormed toward the portal.
“Let’s go,” he said. “If Jace says he’s got a plan, he’s got a plan. See you on the other side!”
“Don’t do anything dumb,” Clem pleaded, then followed Eric into the snowy tundra.
“What she said,” Abi said. He clapped his hands together to pump himself up and ran to the gate.
The second portal had already opened on the other terminal. The intern who staffed it looked at me with stars in his eyes and threw both of his thumbs in the air as I passed his station.
“You can do it, Jace,” he called.
I hoped he was right. I snatched the token out of the kid’s hand and hustled through the portal.
And into the basement of one Tariq Khan, a voracious bibliophile and collector of things he didn’t really understand. Fortunately for me, the rich man was more interested in bragging about his collection than securing it. His greatest claim to fame was possession of three keys that I very much wanted to get my hands on. He’d given interviews about his finds over the years, showing off where he kept his ever-growing assortment of rare tomes. His subterranean vault was practically a museum, though the only protection he trusted was a family guard at the top of the stairs, and silent alarms on the cases holding his precious books. All of that worked in my favor. As long as I timed everything right, those security measures wouldn’t even slow me down.
I crept through the basement, careful not to bump into anything, finding my way by the display lights that gleamed down on the books Khan had collected over the years. Most of these were of historical interest, a few even related to cultivation. The articles I’d read said Khan’s passion was for Egyptian history. He’d tried, and failed, to find solid proof that Horus and the other Egyptian gods had been powerful cultivators who’d settled in the Nile Valley and taken control of the tribes who lived there.
While his theory wasn’t out of the realm of possibility, it flew in the face of accepted Empyreal teachings. According to the Church of the Grand Design, most ancient gods were exiled demons who’d attempted to use humans for their own ends. That, though, was just a theory. Demons, according to those who had fought them in the past, left no trace when they were destroyed. A million of the creatures could have lived in ancient Egypt, and there’d be no way to prove it.
Sweat beaded on my brow as I searched for my target. It wouldn’t be long before my
