Page 55 of The Amber Sunburst

But how often he comes here isn’t the most pressing question right now. The real question is whether this is a secret sex dungeon or something that’ll actually be helpful.

Is it bad that he doesn’t mind either way?

Yes, that is bad, isn’t it?

Something clicks in the door, but when Alexander moves to go inside, Kallias blocks the entryway. “Not quite, golden boy. First, what I want from you.”

Shit, he’d forgotten about that.

“Behind this door is an archive containing materials from thousands of years before the Republic along with very confidential information about its founding. What is not in there is what happened outside the Republic after its founding.”

“Okay?”

“I want to know what happened out there—what it’s like now.”

“That’s all you want? For me to tell you what the world outside the Republic is like?”

Kallias scowls. “Did you want me to ask for your soul? Or give you three riddles like a bridge troll before letting you in?”

“No! No. I’m happy to tell you.”

“You sure? I wouldn’t mind drowning you in swamp water.”

“If it’s you doing the drowning, I might be okay with it,” Alexander flirts.

Kallias cocks a brow and pushes the door open.

And, oh.

What lies behind it is ethereal, existing in what must be some liminal plane between the world and the heavens. It reminds him of Kallias in that way.

Dark wood shelves cover almost every inch of wall he can see, filled to the brim with books so old you can smell the antiquity of the paper. They’re lit gently by small, blue lamps on the tables scattered around the room.

Alexander’s eyes drift toward the ceiling and he inhales sharply. It’s vaulted and fully frescoed to look like the night sky. There are so many constellations that he could lie on his back for hours and not count them all.

Deep blue curtains with tiny silver stars frame translucent, pearly windows. A secret cove lies beyond them, hidden away from the rest of the Academy. The waves beyond the window are barely audible, lapping softly on the shore in the Republic’s perpetually low tide.

The scratching sound of a chair being pulled out echoes through the room and jerks Alexander back into reality. Kallias sits across the library at a circular table framed by curved shelves.

Only the back of his head is visible, already bent over a book. Alexander meanders quietly through the stacks and up to the table. There’s no noise but the water and his and Kallias’ breathing.

In the silence, Alexander can hear it. A mere moment when their breaths sync, and everything in him settles. Then he unsettles again when he looks down at the book Kallias has picked out for him.

The Republic by Plato.

“Oh.”

“Hm?”

“I’ve heard of this. I can’t believe I didn’t connect the dots. We don’t have much old literature still around since most ancient books were destroyed in the Fall of Nations, but I learned about him—Plato—in school.”

“Makes sense.”

Alexander traces the book’s cover with the tips of his fingers and drops into the plush velvet seat across from Kallias.

This is new territory: the first time he’s actually made progress in figuring out where he is and how he can get home. But now that a solution is in front of him, it’s hard to remember what he’s eager to get back to.

A brother who hates him. A father who’s dead. A country that’s moved on without him.