Per 
Who is that man?
The fact that the tiny bird in my bodice could speak in my thoughts was shocking. But he had not heard of the Tyrant? Impossible.
When was the last time you were out of that cage? I replied in my thoughts, taking care to keep a neutral look on my face as I weaved through the crowd with a tray of olives.
A very long time. The bird replied.
I took a single glance to the stage as I provided more refreshments to a lucky footsoldier. I wasn’t sure how well the bird could see through the cloth of my uniform, but it was better than nothing.
The Tyrant was not a tall man, but his muscles were certainly defined and you could see the hints of scar tissue running down his arms. His crown was a simple braid of gold and though his clothes were finely made of tightly woven fabric, they were not embroidered like the palace guards or adorned in feathers like the priests. The only thing that made him stand out was his mask. Just a simple sheet of bronze with two holes for his shaded eyes.
It was all he needed.
There's the sort of leader I'd never seek to bow to. The bird whispered in my thoughts.
My eyes flicked to the display cases behind us. Impossibly valuable things with real glass tops.
Hold up your end of the bargain, I thought, and we won’t have to worry about him much longer.
Don’t worry. He thought back. I wasn't a retrieval specialist for nothing. If I have my say I’ll get everyone out of here. So much lost knowledge. So many wasted minds. This place can’t go on.
For a moment I thought this was unfair to Lord Totch's fine reception hall. After all, the products of art and science were more than clear with the reception hall's fine domed ceiling and elegant frescoes in perfect mathematical proportion.
Even all around us we had poets making recitations, foods that could only be grown with careful irrigation, a thousand forms of intricately woven cloths…
But then I felt the ache of the lashes on my back twinge. You’ll hear no arguments from me.
I am no fool. I made the Wandsman prove he could uphold his promise. It was a short set of hops around the attic, but I had him show me he could traverse the space between spaces.
He told me he could do it much better with his Map and it did sound like one of the stories I’d read in Lord Hosk’s library. A bird with a Map that could travel the stars. An order of mages who knew great secrets and advised the gods of old. But Geyre did not want the star born corrupting his people, so they were stripped of power and locked away with the other monsters who defied his careful plans. The gods had never been kind to me either. So this Wandsman and I had that much in common.
As I weaved through the crowd, I could not help but thank York for one of the few advantages my bondage afforded me. I was completely invisible.
It was not long before I’d made my way to the cases. There were but three guards posted around them, and though their iron tipped spears looked fearsome, so long as they did not see me, all would be well.
All I needed was Adira. And she was more than happy to oblige.
In many useful ways Adira was an idiot. She had nearly the head for numbers I did, but she always had her head in the clouds. What’s more she had the lust of a dozen youths in their 14th year and a liking for the way fine gambeson clung to a guardsman’s chest.
In short, when I told her the newest of the guards on duty would fancy her if she gave him a drink and a kindness during her servings, she lavished me with thanks and praise. So when the guard blushed at her approach I knew I had my opening. I slipped ever so casually towards the cases and-
“STOP THAT WOMAN!”
An enormous booming voice shook the halls as the Tyrant stood from his high seat and pointed at me, his voice felt like being dunked into the river in winter and the sound was unearthly. Inhuman.
Terrible.
Time slowed. Without thinking I charged towards the case with the little silver scroll and slammed the serving tray down into it. “Now!” I shouted, and the bird flew from my bodice.
A guard grasped my collar and began yanking me back. I choked.
And then the bird flew to my outstretched hand. It had the Map in its strange wing talons. It spoke something I couldn’t hear.
There was a burst of blinding light and pain.
And it was gone.
So was my hand.
Blood poured from the wound from the ragged stump. The guard dropped me to the floor in shock, but the Tyrant was on me in moments.
As I stared up into that bronze face and the horrified looks of all the nobles of the first empire.
Only then did it hit me.
He lied.
