The wall of cloth was thick enough to muffle sound, even if a bit of light still filtered through the corridor. He could see Tagu’s silhouette traced behind the fish, immediately joined by Merekis’s taller one. He ran away before they could figure out how to activate the pattern. He needed to get as far away from Mayvaru as he could, then look for his brother. Maybe even free him.

The dark became deeper. He stretched both arms at his sides to touch the walls and steady himself. There weren’t carpets or tapestries, corridors or doors, nor another direction to follow other than forward. He ran as fast as he could.

Soon he met another wall of cloth, light piercing it through a thousand tiny holes. Just like when he was little, he didn’t know how to get out.

He touched the wall that sealed off the corridor as well as the ones on either side. He felt a slight change in material and explored its shape until he was sure it traced a pattern. He started following each line with the tip of his fingers to find the dot. Most of the whirls and waves ended in nothing, forcing him to go back and choose another branch.

It took him so long he expected to hear Tagu’s voice yelling at him in the dark. But there was absolutely no sound, and as much as she could move silently, it was impossible not to be spotted in that tight space.

He touched the dot with his finger and leaned forward until his ear was pressing against the wall. No sound came from the outside, so he activated the pattern. The strings parted as before, allowing him to emerge into another corridor covered in maroon tapestry. He clearly remembered the dining room being of that color.

There were no doors in sight. He didn’t see any guards or servants, so he retracted his hand and let the wall close.

He memorized the tapestry in the area and went right, figuring any direction he took was good enough as long as it led him away from the shortcut. He jogged, causing only a series of low thumps that couldn’t be heard from afar. He feared encountering a guard. Servants he could deal with, probably.

He slowed down when he saw a heavy green curtain on the left. He slowed down and put his back to the wall, close enough to glimpse inside. Judging by the sound of cutlery and low conversations, it was a dining room. From his position, he could see a portion of a cabinet full of precious ceramic plates. He didn’t dare move the curtain and look inside, in case one of the room’s occupants was facing the entrance.

“I don’t want to eat it!” a child screamed.

“You’re not leaving the table until you finish your steak. Come on, take a bite.”

The voice that had spoken was rough and feminine. The child emitted a high-pitched screech that made Dan flinch.

“I don’t want to be a stupid lizard. I want to be a shark.”

“Don’t use that word with me!” Then, softer: “It’s not a lizard, sweetie, it’s a crocodile. It’s strong. Nobody will ever be able to hurt you.”

But the child kept screaming.

“Mom,” said a different voice that sounded like it belonged to a boy about Morìc’s age. “I didn’t start that young. And you gave me a list to choose from.”

“Times have changed. Now our family has specific needs. Once we’re ready to step out into the sun, we need to show the full extent of what we can do.”

Her words caused another round of protests from the child. Dan heard a chair creak and walked away, in case someone was heading out of the room.

He continued down the corridor in the opposite direction. He passed in front of the tapestry he had emerged from, a geometrical composition with the colors of a sunset, and kept going. He feared not finding Morìc. He was also terrified of finding him dead.

He saw another curtain on the right. He doubted they were keeping the prisoners in the same corridor as a dining room, but he was desperate enough to glance inside. For a moment, it was difficult to make sense of what he was seeing: shadows of objects floated around the room, projected by a blue light on the ceiling. It moved slowly, tracing hypnotic patterns on the tapestry. Drawings had been pinned to the walls, depicting patterns or pieces of them.

He let the curtain fall back. The room was interesting and all, but his brother wasn’t there.

He turned and saw a shadow projected on the corridor’s wall, becoming more and more defined as it approached. Dan retreated inside the room. He moved with caution among the tables filled with glasses, beckers, and other objects he’d only ever seen before in Saia’s house and at the herbalist’s shop, and never in such quantities. At least, it meant that the room had plenty of spots to hide.

He crouched under a table and waited in silence. From that position, he had a better view of the light on the ceiling. It came from a big glass container filled with water. Something moved inside it: a milky-white creature shaped like a small sheet of cloth, as big as the palm of Dan’s hand. Its outline pulsated with an irregular blue light that changed intensity depending on the creature’s movements.

The shadows were wiped away by the golden light of a lantern. Dan blinked, trying to see who had entered the room.

“Who are you?”

He made a step back in hearing the voice, but only managed to bump against the leg of the table. A man approached from the entrance, holding a lantern that was ten times more luminous than the others. The light subsided, revealing that his dark blond hair was actually of an earthy brown and his eyes didn’t shine as much as suck the light in.

Dan took advantage of that moment to bolt away from him. He yelled something and tried to stop him by extending an arm, but only managed to knock down an empty still. In any other situation, he would have managed to reach Dan as he sprinted from one table to the next, but the space was too tight and the man too tall.

Dan flung himself beneath the curtain and immediately rolled to his feet, like Autur had tried to teach him. Only while he was already running down the corridor did it occur to him to check that the man was alone. He risked a glance over his shoulder: there weren’t guards with him, but he was also incredibly fast.

“Wait!” he yelled.

Dan accelerated. He saw the geometric tapestry and extended a hand, trying to gauge where the pattern began. There was a shape to the left that resembled a sun, so he pushed as much viss as he could into it, hoping it would spill to the pattern whether it was connected to it or not. The strings of the tapestry started parting. If he If he closed the tapestry just at the right time, he could gain some seconds while the stranger figured out to open it again. At least he didn’t seem armed, which made him unable to cut the cloth.

The man stopped, gaping. Dan was about to slip through, when he heard what he was muttering.

“Danv… No, Dan. It’s Dan now, right?”

He froze, his hand still on the woven sun, the corridor open beside it.

“How do you…?” he began, then realized.

They had Morìc. They had forced him to tell everything. And yet they knew his name, but how had the man also recognized his face? Why would Morìc reveal who he used to be, when they didn’t even suspect a connection? When Mayvaru had sniffed him and looked at him up close and concluded he wasn’t the person she wanted?

The man stepped closer until he was five armlengths away from Dan, then stopped. He held the lantern out even if there was no need for it, as if the light was a peace offering.

“I just want to talk,” he said, his voice suddenly softer.

Dan remembered that tone, but couldn’t grasp further than that. Another possibility occurred to him: that Morìc had decided to reveal who Dan was, because he somehow trusted him.

Or maybe he had been manipulated into trusting him. His brother was so fragile, sometimes.

He couldn’t decide what was the truth, so he stood with his feet on either side of the hidden corridor’s entrance.

“You don’t remember me, it’s perfectly normal. I’m Irdes Lauhas-Toberis. Or maybe I should say Irdes Iraspes-Toberis, now.” The man glanced over his shoulder and lowered his voice. “I’m the husband of your father’s first cousin. I joined your family through a contest. I was tasked with bringing you and Morìc to the other side of the sea.”

Dan’s eyes widened. The memories were always just pieces, as if looking at the scene from afar and out of the corner of his eye, and it had a dreamlike quality that made him doubt whether he had imagined it all. He wished he knew Irdes enough to ask questions only he would know the answer to. Instead, he asked the only one that mattered.

“How’s Morìc?”

“Well, considering his situation. He’s asleep most of the time, and even when he’s awake it doesn’t last long. They can’t force an answer out of him that way.”

“How’s that possible?” Dan asked, kicking himself for never listening to his brother when he tried to teach him magic.

“Someone must possess enough of his viss to control him from afar. Someone powerful, I guess. They manage to resist even against Beramas’s manipulations.”

“Our parents?” Dan asked.

Irdes’s expression softened even more. He made the lantern change hand and extended the one he had freed, as if to reassure Dan. He was too distant to reach him.

“No, not your parents,” he only said.

Dan knew. He had always known, abandoning the idea of ever seeing them again as soon as he was old enough to have a bit of practical sense. Morìc was the one still hoping, still believing.

And yet, he had kept a piece of his old name, the only thing he owned that came from them. The only thing he would ever have.

He cried.

Irdes covered the distance that divided them and hugged him with one arm, still keeping the lantern above his head with the other.

“I wish I could do more for you two,” he said. “But it’s a miracle they never found out it was me to bring you away. They only kept me alive because I know how to make the flying carpets. They’re forcing me to study the pattern because they hope I’ll find the most general holders. I’ve created some minor inventions for them, but I don’t know for how long I’ll be able to keep them at bay.”

His voice managed to calm Dan a bit. He felt centered in the present once again, where he was in the middle of a palace that didn’t belong to his family anymore, enemies at every corner.

He stepped back, wiping his eyes. He had let go of the tapestry and the strings next to it had closed, hiding the corridor again.

“Only a Lauhas can activate these patterns,” Irdes said, passing his hand over the geometrical shapes. “And if someone were to cut it down in an attempt to open it, the entire cover of the corridor would collapse on them. Never let anyone see you activate these patterns.” He retracted his hand. “The Iraspes, Mayvaru and Beramas are all looking for you. You took a huge risk coming here.”

Dan looked up at him, wondering what to tell him. He didn’t get the chance to say anything, because shouts came from the end of the corridor.

“You, go left. You, with me. If the kid is here, drag him away before the family can see you.”

Irdes put a hand on Dan’s shoulder and, to his dismay, shouted: “Found him!”

The men arrived from the end of the corridor, armed with the shifting weapons of the city guards. They were out of breath, probably after looking for Dan in the other areas of the palace.

“I’ll escort him outside,” Irdes said. “This matter is out of your hands.”

“The servant said he disappeared,” one of the guards said, panting. “Maybe we should imprison him and wait for lord Beramas.”

“He only got lost and wandered too far. Don’t you see he’s scared to death?”

Irdes vaguely pointed at Dan’s face. He looked down to hide that he had cried, which he realized was exactly what a sulking child would do.

“But…”

“I’ll take responsibility for any damage or information leak.”

With that, he gently pushed Dan forward. Soon they crossed a door that was as big as the whole corridor, thread and strings weaved so well around it that there wasn’t a single glimpse of the wall all around. A rare occurrence inside the weavers’ palace.

It took them a surprisingly long time to return to the blue section of the palace. Irdes stopped at the hall that opened behind the palace’s temporary entrance.

“Wait here and don’t move for any reason, or I won’t be so lenient next time,” he said out loud, to the benefit of the guards standing a few armlengths from there, then he turned and left. Dan looked at his back, resisting the urge to call for him.

In the end, he sat down next to a wall and waited for Merekis and Tagu, hoping that at least they hadn’t encountered any problems. His hope vanished when they appeared from the end of the corridor and he saw Merekis’s deep scowl.

“Put on the hood,” he ordered, any trace of his usual mellowness gone from his voice. “We’re leaving.”

Dan obeyed. He fell in step next to Tagu and shot her a questioning look, but she just shrugged.

Once on the other side of the square outside the palace, Merekis stopped and grabbed both of them by their shoulders.

“I’m going to tell Sibras about this. He won’t like it.”

He looked ahead and resumed walking.

“There’s nothing he will like about any of this.”