The Breaking — Chapter 39

Try as I might, I can't find Nicea. Weeks of futility, every path ending at the same closed door: the slave market on Delos. She would have been one of hundreds of sales made every day, the records of which sit in an archive closed to private citizens. Thaletas must have had a friend among the Delian magistrates to gain access to those scrolls. Such is my desperation, trusting the word of a man who came here to kill me.