Sonia avoided crowds, but keeping out of the main halls and pathways at the Academy took discipline. It meant skipping lunch, or enduring unpleasant heat, since the best hiding spots were outside in the sculpture garden. But she preferred the heat to the stares.

Wandering around in the shadows of the images of Grater Barren’s cultural immortals was a surreal, almost deja vu-like experience. She knew these ghosts--not by appearance, but had studied them in propaganda films during her days in Arrow’s Green Guard. Military figures, most of them long dead, loomed up above her, weilding larger-than-life guns, bows, and various handheld weaponry.

She paused at a new sculpture. It must be new. It was General Travertine in youth. The bronze caste depicted his clean-shaven face upturned, defiant. The placard read: Valor in Battle at the Shores of Avion. A chill ran down Sonia’s neck and spine. The Battle had occurred just before her birth, but several battles had occurred there since, including her own legendary sprint into exile. Avion was the field where she had been condemned to die.

She couldn’t explain how she’d survived to earn her exile from Arrow any more than she could explain how she’d landed those jumps on her toes. It was more than leyline energy. Did it have something to do with the Magnus Avem? Had he done something to her?

She stood, staring up at the General, complicated emotions crowding her mind. Then she flinched at a sharp crack!

“What is it about the General?”

It was Nexius. He cracked his knuckles again.

Sonia breathed and wiped the sweat from her brow. “You startled me.”

“It looked to me like he startled you.”

“Well, maybe a little. Most of these statues are of people long gone.”

Nexius nodded. “Immortalized heroes.”

“But the General is still with us.”

“Indeed." A shadow passed over Nexius's face. "The General saved his entire platoon under enemy fire and he did it wounded.”

“Impressive.”

“Lost his right leg.”

“Self-sacrificing.”

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"I think he's gotten more than fair return on his investment."

This sounded like heresy to Sonia. Then she remembered what she'd heard about Nexius refusing to work alongside the General.

“He gave you a medal. Maybe you’ll have your own statue.”

“I don’t want to think about what I would have to do to earn it.”

Nexius's mouth quirked. “Don't be modest.”

Sonia waved her hand in denial. “I’m quick like a bunny, but no warrior.”

“Maybe we could use just one non-violent heroic figure.”

She fidgeted, then rejoined. “What are you doing hiding out in the sculpture garden, Nexius?”

He shrugged his broad frame. “I like sculpture."

But he hadn't denied he was hiding, Sonia noticed.

Nexius reached into his pocket and brought out a lunch package wrapped in wax paper. “You shouldn’t skip meals.” He placed the package in her hand. “There’s a closet on the first floor that has a small table inside. Press your fingers hard against the sixth panel in the wainscoting—you might find something useful.”

He left Sonia, standing there alone in the forest of sculptures, holding the wedge of bread, and yet another one of Nexius's secrets.

*

A moment later, Sonia found the closet door under the stairwell. It was a roomy closet and she could see Nexius probably used it to eat a solitary lunch now and then by the looks of the table and the case of books lining one wall, but what had he meant about the sixth panel? What would be useful about it?”

Sonia finished the wedge of bread and wiped the crumbs against her trouser legs. She might as well try and find out. She glanced at the wall. Who ever would have thought of putting wainscot in the storage closet anyway? Who decorated the insides of closets? She counted the sixths panel from the corner. It must be this one. She put her hand on it, and felt nothing. She pressed harder, and under the pressure, the wall yielded.

Sonia’s eyes widened as she peered into the passage. She glanced between closet and passage, then she slipped inside.

*

Sonia’s eyes adjusted to the dim. A narrow, musty staircase led steeply upward. She placed her foot up onto the first step, which gave a slight creak of protest under her weight.

Nexius hadn't simply given her an escape from unwanted attention, nor even a sly method of slipping past the crowds in the Academy. He'd given her access to a vast underworld of secret passages, deep in the bowels of Greater Barren's abyss. It was an elaborate network connecting most of the classroom and offices in every wing of the school, and almost certainly much farther.

Sonia could creep into the back of the largest lecture halls without being noticed. And make no mistake, this underworlds was obviously for spying. Little glints of exterior light betrayed the location of various peepholes throughout the system of secret corridors. The peep holes peered out from behind the threadbare patches of wall hangings and ornate moldings. Everything was so cleverly done. No--it wasn't just clever. It was ingenius.

Sound traveled uncannily well, as though the entire Academy’s acoustics had been designed for spy craft. Who had made this? And what were they doing with it? How was Nexius involved? In the back of her mind, she knew he wouldn’t give her access to this place without another word. No. He had told her about it for more than the sake of her own convenience getting to and from classes. Nexus had to have his reasons. What were they? When would he tell her?