"Where are we going?" I asked as he hurried me through the labyrinthine hallways.
"To the archives," he replied. "My father kept meticulous records of the Purge. If there's a way to mask the Void blood—even for a few minutes—it'll be in the journals of the men who tried to kill it. They studied the enemy before they destroyed them."
We moved through the dark hallways of the Olympus house, the shadows cast by the moon through the high windows feeling more like allies than enemies. I thought about the locket hidden in the vault and the man with the scar. The King wasn't just coming for a blood test. He was coming for a ghost. He was coming for the woman he had lost, or perhaps the woman he had murdered. And as we entered the cold, stone-lined room of the archives, I realized that Kasper and I weren't just fighting for a throne or a political alliance anymore. We were fighting to keep the darkness from swallowing us both before the sun could even rise.
