The blade was white. Not just the bright sheen of steel, but white like the delicate porcelain teacups my father had treasured. Almost translucent where the edge of the blade grew sharp. Who had made this sword and what sort of material was it? Perhaps Phoenix Rise was true, perhaps all one had to do was lift the blade to the sky to kill Alanga. For all my reading, I was swimming out of my depth here. I sheathed the sword again before I could be tempted to touch it, or worse, wave it about like I was some ancient warrior. I had work to do.

I slung the chain around my shoulder and climbed back up the ladder. I’d be making stops at Riya, Nephilanu, Hualin Or, and Gaelung – and there was distance between these places. I’d have the time to read on the boat, to research. I couldn’t keep descending into my father’s cavern, but I could bring some of his cavern with me.

Thrana wound her way around my legs as soon as I lifted myself from the hatch, her brow furrowed and the whites of her eyes visible. “Time to leave?”

The books at my father’s workstation called to me. This quiet domain felt more mine than the busy, noisy one above.

“I heard something up the tunnel,” Thrana said. “While you were in the cave.”

That turned my attention. “Heard what?”

She rolled her shoulders. “Not sure. Very quiet. Far away.”

I clenched my teeth. Jovis. Could the man not give me a moment’s peace? He wasn’t wrong, though. I’d have to schedule my time in my locked rooms. I couldn’t expect my brand-new steward to deal with all things, and soon we’d be receiving visitors. I could understand now why my father had dismissed most of his servants, had left the governing to the constructs. There was too much to be done, and he was the only one who could work on his experiments and his bone shard magic.

“We’ll have to come back,” I told her. She pressed herself against my leg but didn’t protest.

Thrana was right – a faint sound echoed down the tunnels, a distant rumble. I was nearly at the cloud juniper doors when I remembered the sword still slung over one shoulder. It was so light I’d forgotten it was there. I should have left it at the workstation along with the books, but it was too late now.

This close, the rumble clarified into an incessant pounding at the door.

My cheeks flushed, I marched through the shard storeroom and jerked open the door, the lamp still held high in one hand. “What?”