No alarms were raised.
Ducot and Alyss repeated the process and they found themselves in a stately parlor. Over the fireplace was a portrait of Ulvarth, face turned up toward a blindingly bright sun. Carved into its ostentatious frame were the words:
Trust in Her Champion.
“Gross.” Eira nearly gagged.
Alyss wriggled her fingers and the carved wood shifted before Eira’s eyes. Letters sank back into the frame. New ones rose. It now read:
Liar. Heretic. False Champion.
Alyss shrugged and caught Eira’s eyes with a wry grin. “Maybe they’ll think it’s a sign from Yargen and listen?”
Eira opened her mouth to ask Alyss to change it back—it was too much of a risk—but Ducot tapped on the wall to the right of the fireplace. Perhaps it was a sign from Yargen that they didn’t have a chance to return it to the way it was. The goddess worked in mysterious ways.
Alyss went to open another wall, and Eira followed.
“It is better that way,” Cullen said.
“Wish we could burn it,” Olivin mumbled.
Eira found herself agreeing with them both.
In the wee hours of the morning, they glided through the rooms and walls of the most loyal individuals to Ulvarth. Unseen. Their presence felt in little changes that Alyss seemed too eager to make while she waited for Ducot to point her in the next direction.
First it was the frame. After that it was a marble sculpture of Ulvarth standing upon the sun transformed into him being immolated by flames. Then it was a tapestry that unraveled around his outline, having his woven self slump to a puddle on the floor.
Eira knew better than to expect anything to come of it, but the little rebellions when they were otherwise being so cautious felt good. And a part of her that she’d never admit to secretly hoped that the citizens who owned these would genuinely take it as a sign from Yargen. That when Ulvarth fell, his name would be shamed and his memory would live only in slander.
They came to a stop in a sitting room, where Ducot ran his hand along the wall three times over before turning to Alyss. “I think this is it, the wall should be right on the other side.”
Alyss went to the wall and placed her hand by the floorboards, her eyes fluttering closed. “I think so,” she eventually agreed, looking to Eira.
“Keep the opening low and small. Even if we’re only a hand’s width away from the wall, I don’t want to take any chances of a patrol seeking the opening and having a reason to linger, suspicious,” Eira instructed.
Every decision she made and instruction she gave had the memory of Noelle living within it. Would Noelle still be alive if she had been more decisive when she’d had the chance? Eira forced the guilt back into its pen, allowing that monster to pace its cage. It’d be a forever occupant of her thoughts, escaping from time to time, but she couldn’t let it run wild. That was how mistakes would be made. And more mistakes would lead to more of her friends dying.
Alyss opened the wall just as Eira instructed.
“Ducot, do you sense any patrols?” As he did, Eira kept her focus on Alyss. “Work on another hole in the opposite wall.”
This was the deeply risky part. They didn’t know how thick this wall was. Or if there were people within. But chances had to be taken.
“We’ll have a window in another thirty seconds.” Ducot opened his eyes. “About two minutes, I’d guess.”
Plenty of time.
“We’re through.” Alyss leaned away from the opening. “But it looks like the wall is hollow. There’s a passage within.”
“Ducot, you first as a mole. See if there’s anything inside we need to be worried about.”
In a blink, he was in his other form, scampering across the narrow gap. But there was no time to wait for him to return. The floorboards overhead creaked loudly. The sound was followed by a few heavy footsteps and the rattling of pipes within the walls. Muffled talking.
“Go.” Eira looked to Cullen and Olivin. They were on their stomachs in a second, wriggling through, arm over arm.
The footsteps crossed the room upstairs. Another pause, the creak of door hinges. Weight on stairs.
The sounds faded away as Eira raced past Alyss. There was only a breath of fresh air before she was inside the defensive wall opposite. It was so thick that Alyss’s opening felt more like a tunnel. The second she was through, two sets of hands grabbed her arms on either side, pulling.
