I followed close behind Adrian as he held up his phone to light the path ahead of us. The cold, damp air wrapped around us as we descended the tight spiral staircase to only the gods knew where.

The path led us down a long dingy tunnel to a wooden door at the end. Once through the door, we found ourselves at the back of the Royal High Court Academy. Safely standing outside the building, with no scratches and no handcuffs around my wrists, I let the crisp December breeze fill my nostrils. I glanced back at the skyward-bound walls of the library. I didn’t know if I would ever have the opportunity to feel this close to history again, and I wanted to savor the moment. Adrian tapped my shoulder, returning my attention to him, and I fell in step beside him as he effortlessly navigated the way back to the Hyped. Every few steps I checked over my shoulder to ensure nobody was following us.

Once we were back in the safety of the Court, blending into the crowd of people outside the Hyped, Adrian stretched out his arm and took my hand. He caught me off guard, and before I could even retract my hand from his grasp, our fingers entwined. My skin tingled. There was something about the way his skin pressed against mine that spread warmth throughout my whole body. It was a cold December day, yet I somehow felt warm.

I indulged the feeling for a second longer before untangling my hand from his. I found it frustrating not to be able to control my body’s response to him. Perhaps the emotion showed on my face.

“Hey, are you okay?” Adrian asked.

“Yeah.” There was no way I was going to tell him what had actually been in my head. Under his scrutinizing gaze, I found myself struggling to change the topic. Nothing came to mind except our mission. “What did it say?” I blurted. There must have been something that caught his attention when he had been reading those pages.

“It kept mentioning the Great Massacre, Zeus, and Hades.”

“Okay . . . but what else is in there?”

Adrian shook his head, then his face changed and he looked slightly embarrassed. “Actually, I am not that good in Greek.” His cheeks turned a darker shade of pink. “Okay, I suck at it,” he admitted. “I only understood bits and pieces. And I think—” he halted, seemingly unsure about something.

“What?” I encouraged. “You think, what?”

“I think we should ask Vlad.”

“I think it’ll be easier for me to learn Greek from scratch than to convince him to help us.”

Adrian went quiet. He simply stood there, unmoving. “What is it, Adrian?”