"Can you climb it?" Oliver gasps.
"I'll have to."
We hit the wall running. Oliver boosts me up, my fingers scrabbling for purchase on rain-slick stone. I find a hold, pull myself higher. Oliver is climbing beside me, moving fast.
"There! On the wall!"
Arrows whistle past us. One catches Oliver's shoulder, tearing through fabric and flesh. He grunts but doesn't stop climbing.
We reach the top, only to find a sheer drop on the other side. Too far. We'd break bones for sure.
"Jump!" Oliver yells. "We don't have a choice!"
And so I jump.
The impact drives the air from my lungs, pain lancing through my ankle. Oliver lands beside me, rolling to absorb the impact. Then he's up, hauling me to my feet.
"Run!"
I do, my ankle screaming with every step. Oliver has his good arm around my waist, half carrying me. Behind us, guards are scrambling over the wall.
Our carriage is gone. Corvask must have moved it when he heard the commotion.
We duck into an alley, pressing into the shadows. Oliver's breathing is labored, blood seeping from the arrow wound in his shoulder. My ankle throbs, already swelling.
"We need to keep moving," he pants. "They'll search the entire district."
"I can't. My ankle..."
"Then I'll carry you." He moves to scoop me up despite his injury.
"Oliver, no. You're hurt."
"Not as hurt as we'll be if they catch us." He lifts me into his arms, his face going pale with pain. "Hold on."
He moves through the alleys, avoiding main streets, keeping to the shadows. I can feel his strength failing, feel the tremor in his arms. But he doesn't stop. Doesn't slow.
After what feels like hours but is probably only minutes, we reach a small plaza. Corvask is there, the carriage hidden in the shadows of a building.
"Thank the gods," he breathes, jumping down to help us. "I heard the alarm bells. What happened?"
"Later," Oliver grunts, practically falling into the carriage. "Just get us home."
I collapse beside him, my hands immediately going to his shoulder. The arrow is still lodged there, the wound bleeding freely.
"This needs to come out," I tell him.
"Not here. Wait until we're safe."
The transport lurches into motion. We're both soaked, shivering, bleeding. And we failed. We got proof, but we didn't get out with it.
"I'm sorry," Oliver says quietly. "I fucked up. Should have been faster, more careful..."
"You saved our lives." I grip his uninjured hand. "If you hadn't reacted when you did, they would have caught us both."
"But now Thrain knows someone was in his study. He'll secure the evidence. We've lost our only leverage."
He's right. The raid was our one chance, and we blew it.
