Page 135 of The Blade in the Ashes
He straightened the necklace against my throat, fingers lingering on my skin for a moment.
“No one harms you like that and lives, bird.”
ChapterForty
Iris
Iexhaled heavily, cheeks rounding before I quirked my lips to the side and scanned the room for what felt like the hundredth time.
Portraits hung on every spare inch of the wall. Most depicted the Gods—some portrayed them standing posed with gentle expressions, others showing great battles or scenes from the stories I had grown up learning. Some portraits were small, reminding me of the kind I hung above vases or in my bathroom; others were massive, stretching five feet high. They wereallundeniably fine works of art, and I took them in with an appreciative hum.
“It's beautiful brushwork,” I complimented, crossing my arms over my chest as I took in the portrait of Zion and the other High Gods. “But it’s not what we’re looking for.”
Nikolai prowled through the room, eyes scanning over everything from the ceiling to the floorboards. “They wouldn’t have those guards in here just to protect paintings like this. Look for a trapdoor or something.”
I let my fingertips trail across the wall as I moved. With a narrowed gaze, I took in each and every portrait, tracing over the frames as I desperately tried to notice any slight differences. All the while, Nikolai tested his weighton different floorboards and tapped his knuckles against the wall, listening carefully for a hollow sound.
“What about this?” I asked, resting my hands on my hips as I stared at the painting in front of me.
Nikolai moved to stand by my side, observing the life-sized portrait of the High Gods Zion, Herea, Palaemon, Delia, and Harmonia. Hyrax was obviously missing from the painting, but the others all stood happily looking at each other. Zion’s sword rested casually in his hand, while Palaemon had his trident over his shoulder. Herea’s throwing stars were nowhere to be seen, her arms filled instead with roses while Delia balanced a small, bundled infant on her hip, and Harmonia just smiled gracefully with her hands folded neatly in front of her.
“What about it?”
Rolling my eyes, I glared at him over my shoulder. “It’s odd, don’t you think?”
“Not particularly.” Nikolai shrugged, already turning away.
It seemed Nikolai, despite his taste for the finer things in life, was not an art aficionado.
I scoffed, seizing the fabric of his shirt sleeve and tugging him back towards me as I gestured wildly towards the painting.
“It’s big.”
Nikolai’s hand automatically landed on my lower back, sending a rush up my spine as he looked to the painting, back at me, and to the painting once more, brows furrowed in a frown. “And?”
For a treasure hunter, he really was overlooking the obvious.
Fighting the urge to sigh in exasperation, I flapped my hand desperately towards it once more. “It’s life-sized! It’s the only life-sized portrait in this entire room.Andthe frame extends completely to the floor. Don’t you think that’s a strange way to hang a portrait?”
His eyes scanned over it again, lingering at the place where the golden frame kissed the hardwood at our feet. His expression flashed with realization before an impressed smile lit his features. “It extends to the floor as a door would.”
When he glanced down, he looked at me as if I were the most incredible person he’d ever met, and I failed to hide my pleased grin as I lifted my chin.
“Exactly like a door would,” I agreed.
“Brilliant woman.”
After squeezing my hip, Nikolai stepped forward, tracing the golden frame with a careful touch. I waited as patiently as I could, but couldn’t stop myself from bouncing giddily on the balls of my feet. Finally, he found whatever groove or indent he was searching for and pressed down. Within a moment, we heard the characteristic click of a latch unhooking, and the door flew open, revealing the treasure-filled space beyond it.
I readied myself to brag, unnecessarily boastful comments flying to my mouth, but before I could utter a single one, Nikolai rounded on me, pressing his lips to mine quickly before darting into the room.
“Well done, bird,” he called over his shoulder, his attention shifting to catalogue all the items inside the hidden room while I stood frozen on the threshold.
His words were absent-minded, as if he hadn’t realized that he had just kissed me—as if that was some natural form of intimacy that we shared all the time.
ButIdefinitely realized.
And it took me a long, long minute for my heart to slow enough to allow me to pick my jaw up off the floor and follow him.
