He knew the corners he was pressing them into. Forcing them to take actions that’d lead to mistakes and play right into his hands.
“No, it’s not,” she said. A pirate wouldn’t sacrifice the lives of an entire crew for one rebellious sailor. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
Those words lacked confidence. She tried to make up for it in her steps, charging forward. But a sense of doom had settled on her shoulders like winter’s blanket. A deathlike chill.
You’re not all going to make it out alive, it seemed to whisper.
I know, her better sense wanted to reply.
Watch me, every beat of her heart uttered.
After piecing together a few hours of rest, they moved at midnight for the Archives. They were running out of time before the coordinated attack would be launched. And, before then, she needed to get Yonlin and the pistol back and find Ulvarth to put herself in position.
The first part of their trek was relatively easy. The pathways unblocked and no one bothered them, save for the mildlycurious glances of a few unsavory sorts that were cast their way. The inky shroud of night offered the perfect cover.
The three rings of walls that led up to the Archives were bigger than Eira had imagined. The first was a towering spectacle, larger than any of the surrounding buildings so there was no possibility of leaping over it. It was so thick that it made seeing the Archives—even high up on their hill in the distance—nearly impossible. If there was any noise on the other side at all, it was entirely muffled.
She’d expected the formidable sight of guards and hardened fortifications, regular patrols, or poised cannons on the ramparts, preloaded with flash beads. But, instead, they found a haunting stillness and an eerie emptiness. There was no one along the wall. No signs of Pillars or any other living soul at all. The gate itself was a mere archway. Equally unguarded and completely open. Within was nothing but swirling darkness, as black as pitch, that seemed to entirely absorb the light.
35
“Idon’t like this,” Alyss muttered what they all were thinking after Eira had filled in Ducot on what awaited them.
“Do we go in?” Cullen murmured.
“Of course we do, there’s only forward.” Olivin was as determined as ever.
Despite knowing it was rooted in all the wrong motivations, Eira was forced to agree. They couldn’t go back now, even knowing it?—
“It’s a trap,” Cullen literally finished her thought.
“What else are we going to do?” Olivin gave them all a pointed look.
Eira sighed. “He’s right. But we’re going to be careful about this.”
“I can scout ahead,” Ducot offered. “No one expects the mole.”
“They might.” Eira’s mind was a whirlpool of thoughts, swirling deeper and deeper. She’d be pulled under, smothered by endless options and hypotheticals, if she wasn’t careful about keeping her heading. “They’ve infiltrated the knowledge of the Shadows.”
Olivin had good news for once. “Lorn said he destroyed the records before the Pillars could get to them.”
But… “There are a lot of ways to acquire information on others beyond Lorn’s written collection.”
“We’re wasting time debating.” Olivin’s patience was running thin. Really, it was a wonder he hadn’t already charged in.
“Go, Ducot, but not too far and report right back.” Eira squeezed his forearm. “Noelle would never forgive me if I let something happen to you, so, please, be careful.”
He nodded and, with a step, was in his mole form. Eira’s heart was in her throat for every scamper of his tiny feet. She held her breath the entire time from when he disappeared into the perfect darkness of the archway to when he reemerged—blessedly in one piece.
Ducot slipped back into the alcove they had pressed themselves against before shifting back into his more human form.
“Good news and bad.”
“Good news is rare, can we start there?” Alyss begged.
“There’s no one inside the tunnel, so far as I can tell.”
“Then what’s the bad news?” Eira resisted the urge to celebrate too soon.
