Malia and the others followed Elea through the dark, dank, narrow maze of passageways into the heart of the palace. As they moved silently in a human chain, voices drifted through the walls. Much was happening within, it seemed. The voices’ tones were sharp and biting; they were orders, not conversations or laughter, as Malia had grown accustomed over her stay.

They stopped and peered through a portal into Elea’s bedroom: an apartment with a reading room overlooking a ...