Page 81 of Heart of Thieves

“Likely nothing good. I’ve got to go. Keep Enzo preoccupied. I’ll be back before the end of the round.”

I’m leaping off the roof before Estelle can respond, sinking into noncorporeality as I sail through the air so I hit the ground as a ghost. Then I take off around the corner after Ostena and her friend.

I follow for several miles until they stop at a nondescript apartment building. Paint peels off the walls, and dead flowers crumple over the sides of brittle flower boxes.

Ostena’s companion—a man with straw-colored hair and freckled, ruddy cheeks—produces an old brass key from his pocket. They unlock the door and slip wordlessly inside. I trail them down to the boiler room, where another figure stands waiting.

I catch sight of his face and give a lungless gasp.

It’s my father.

“What can you tell me?” he asks.

Ostena’s friend holds out a chunk of metal. “The enclosure is powered by voratium embedded around the library at regular intervals. Remove one, and it provides an escape point.”

“Thank you, Forsyth,” my father says with a nod. “And the Devious?”

“The Liar is present with his new lady friend,” Ostena puts in.

“The Thief ?”

“We haven’t seen him or his Tentacles yet,” Ostena replies. “Though there is always the possibility they are either disguised or noncorporeal.”

“And Astra Tremaine?” The way he says my false name raises the hairs on the backs of my arms. With the faintest smug smile, like he’s in on a joke.

“No sign of her, either.”

“Very well.” My father pockets the voratium. “Unless you see her, keep your focus on the Liar. And whatever you do, stay away from Nocturne.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Gather as much information as you can on the other players as well as the game itself. I want to be aware of everything.”

“Of course.” Forsyth nods. “We’ll keep you apprised.”

They continue, setting a plan for the next time they’ll meet up to exchange notes, but there’s a ringing in my ears that has nothing to do with the Unbreakable Lie and everything to do with the panic spreading like poison through me.

Of course I knew my father might not comply with Nocturne’s demands to stay away from the game. He certainly isn’t known for his integrity. But I had hoped I might have scared him enough to keep him at bay.

Obviously, I was wrong.

I wait until Ostena and Forsyth depart. Then, with terror squeezing ice around my lungs, I relinquish Enzo’s magic, replacing it instantly with Nic’s to make Nocturne bloom before my father.

He blinks, taking a step back. “Nocturne?”

“Explain yourself, Magnus,” I say, my voice infused with the smoky undertones he’ll recognize. “We had a deal.”

“Our deal was that I would not come near the game, and I have not,” he says with a shrug, keeping his hands clasped loosely in front of him as though he has not a care in the world.

“Don’t mince words with me,” I retort. “Obviously, when I said I didn’t want you in the game, I also meant your minions should stay away as well.”

“Then perhaps you should have specified.”

“If the Thief sniffs out they’re working for you, he won’t cooperate.”

“He’s not going to find out.” He raises a brow. “Besides, I learned long ago not to pin all my hopes on one course of action.”

“To what are you referring?”