Hypnos reeled back as if slapped. Enrique’s eyes went wide with hurt, and Zofia’s gaze dropped to the ground. Laila didn’t want to look at Séverin, but when he spoke, his voice was urgent.

“That will change, Laila,” he said. “I swear it.”

He drew back the sleeve of his robes, revealing the divine lyre strapped to his arm. Laila stared at the instrument. She hadn’t forgotten how it had felt when his bloodied fingers touched a single string. As if her soul threatened to unhinge and slip past the loose cage of her bones. A shiver ran down her spine.

Séverin yanked down his sleeve, a determined expression on his face.

“I believe the map to Poveglia will be a mind Forged object,” said Séverin. “A vial, perhaps. Not a traditional map at all. Ruslan gave me one hint before I left.”

“Which was?” asked Enrique, crossing his arms.

Séverin’s smile was mirthless. “Watch out for dragons.”

* * *

ON THE OTHER side of the Tezcat tapestry, Laila discovered they had emerged in the railed-off upper galleries of House Janus’s headquarters, looking down over the revelries. Along the curved walls hung dozens of ancient maps, each of them stretched, pinned, and framed by shining curlicues of gilt brass. A domed skylight above let in the moonlight, and when Laila peered over the edge of the railings, the nautilus of staircases revealed the revelers like a sea of undulating gold far beneath them. She dragged her fingers along the frames, the walls, the joints of paintings … but the objects were silent.

At first, Séverin walked ahead of the group, and it was as if a spell from the past fell over their feet. It was natural to fall into step behind Séverin. Easy, even. Too easy. Laila hung back, feeling a touch spiteful. Enrique, on the other hand, shook himself and practically stomped ahead.

At the end of the hall, Séverin paused in front of the final map, a circular silk screen printing of a clay tablet about a meter in diameter. Laila didn’t recognize the script. It looked like a collection of sharp angles.

“Well, Enrique?” she asked.

Séverin, who had opened his mouth, quickly closed it. Enrique looked rather smug as he turned to face them. Was it her imagination or did Séverin step to the side, as if moving out of someone else’s spotlight?

“This is Imago Mundi,” said Enrique. “Otherwise known as the Babylonian Map of the World. It’s a replica of the original clay tablet, of course—the original dates back to the early Achaemenid period. Babylonians certainly had dragon-like deities, such as Tiamat, a primordial goddess of the sea, so this could be part of the hint—”

Séverin studied the framing, stepping back. “I don’t think so.”

Laila imagined the room growing a touch colder.

“Excuse me?” asked Enrique.

“I doubt House Janus would want their entrance to treasure to be based on something that isn’t an original. It would feel … insulting. As for the dragon link, I imagine it would not be so tenuous.”

“So you think we need to look for an actual dragon?” asked Enrique.

“Maybe not quite so literal, but something more rooted to the word perhaps.”

There was a certain logic to it. Again, the past intruded. Laila remembered how joyously Séverin used to read rooms of treasure, as if he understood, on some fundamental level, how precious things liked to hide. Once, it had made her feel special … how he, alone, had found her all those years ago, unearthed her skills, kept her safe. Treasured her. Laila pushed it from her mind.

“Fine,” said Enrique tightly. “We can try it.”

For the next ten minutes, the group split up to comb through the halls’ maps and statues once more.

“I imagined this would be far more exciting,” said Hypnos, bored. “Considering the dragons.”

“What about this?” called Zofia.

The four of them turned to face her. She stood near the end of the corridor before a small map that was hardly fifteen centimeters long. Zofia had snapped off one of the pendants from her strange necklace, holding it up like a light and pointing at something written off to the side.

When they reached her, Laila didn’t see anything at first except yellowing paper, sepia ink outlining and shading stretches of mountains, rolling waves and hillsides, flat plains. Long ago, the map had been Forged, and though time had weakened the Forging bond, a wisp of will gusted across the page. An invisible wind ruffled stalks of wheat. The depiction of waves rolled gently and disappeared into the frame. Enrique leaned forward, following Zofia’s finger to an expanse of blank page broken only by the appearance of a dorsal fin knifing in and out of the water. And beside it, in slanting font so small that Laila would’ve missed it completely, a phrase in Latin:

HIC SUNT DRACONES

Dracones.

Dragons.

Laila stared at the word, hope needling painfully in her chest.

“It’s a reference that means territory unknown,” said Enrique excitedly. “Ancient cartographers believed that the land they could not see must necessarily be populated by ancient beasts, monsters, etcetera, although the most common Latin phrase mapmakers used was ‘terra ignota’ first seen in Ptolemy’s Geographia in the year 150. This particular phrase hasn’t been seen except on the sixteenth-century Hunt-Lenox globe.”

Territory unknown. Laila smiled. She liked that idea. That in the vast places where the world became unfamiliar, there might be something as beautiful and remarkable as dragons lying in wait.

Out the corner of her eye, Laila saw Séverin smiling at Enrique. Enrique didn’t look at him, but his jaw clenched as he said: “Zofia, I believe you know what to—”

Zofia didn’t wait for him to finish before she snapped off another pendant, shoving it behind the framing.

“Is that going to destroy the map?” asked Enrique, alarmed.

She reached for a small, square of metal in her sleeves. Laila recognized it as a Forged muffler, designed to soak up sound. Zofia pulled out seven of them, lining them along the wall. They were surprisingly effective objects, considering their size—powerful enough to disguise both the clanging kitchens of L’Eden and an orchestral performance in the grand ballroom so that the guests who retired early for the night on the same floor heard nothing at all.

“Stand back,” said Zofia.

Everyone stepped aside except Enrique.

“Could we try not to destroy—”

Hypnos yanked him backward at the last moment. A flash of heat and a loud banging sound rattled the wall. Seconds later, the now-smoking framed map hung off two hinges, revealing a candlelit passageway.

“—things,” finished Enrique weakly.

Laila waved away the smoke.

“Check for Mnemo devices,” said Séverin.

Zofia reached for a spherical contraption hidden in the folds of her blue skirt, then rolled it down the hallway.

“Clear,” she said.

Séverin nodded, then clicked his heels together. Two slim blades jutted out. He extracted them, holding out one to Hypnos and keeping the other for himself. He hit his arm against the wall, and the interlocked garnets and rubies on his suit lit up. He grinned at them before walking into the passageway.