We stand in the shadows behind the trees. A faint red magic shimmers along the door handle and glows from deep inside the house. We are stripped to dark-colored leather under armor garb grown stiff after days of wear. Waiting for Ra’Salore to scale the side of the house feels like being forcibly submerged underwater.
Like the houses in Enduvida, it is cylindrical. However, this dwelling also has dark, leafy green paneling up the side. Glamour had covered such a vast space. Clearly, our crystals can’t pick up every trace of their magic; otherwise, we would’ve seen the enclave.
A seed of respect for these women is begrudgingly planted, despite what they are forcing us to do.
I hold up my hand, and our strategy is set in motion. Every inch that Ra’Salore scales feels like a mile. I’m on high alert, anticipating something just beyond our sight that could reach out and hurt the stone bender.
Ra’Salore looks over at me, hanging on the balcony of thesecond floor, primed to act as soon as I give the signal. A feeling deep in my gut holds me back.
We’ve waited for over a half hour, and there has been no movement from the inside. A part of me wonders if there really is a woman in those curved walls, or if the queen of tricksters has merely sent us on a wild spider chase. The note said that she sleeps on the second level, which is why we chose the window to break into.
The hairs on the back of my neck rise, and I look over my shoulder to see what creature watches us—but there is no bear nor dryad. It is likely one of Mrath’s spies ensuring that we make good on our word.
I take a deep breath, listening to the rhythmic sway of the trees in the night breeze, and nod to Ra'Salore. Like an expertly tightened spring, he swings his legs up and climbs to the window, latching onto the side of the house and using his tail to steady him. Faster than the strike of a serpent, he holds out his hands, and the Fuegorra in his chest lights up through the fabric.
In seconds, the cloudy window melts away. When it is completely gone, his tail adjusts position again before he swings and ducks inside the house. Even with our strong hearing, I can detect neither the creak of a floorboard nor the scrape of furniture against a polished floor.
The passing time is measured in my racing heartbeats, and I find myself holding my breath until he comes back. When he does, he slides out of the window, clutching to the side of the house with the ease of the most experienced crystal harvesters.
Ulla and I look at each other.
“I’ll go first, then help you. Are you ready?”
She has a hollow paleness to her complexion, but she nods and slips her crystals into her lace-up pockets.
We don’t speak as we approach the space. I try to follow theexact path Ra'Salore had taken up the wall, but I falter. When I slip, it makes a loud groaning crash, but thankfully, the wooden panel on the side doesn’t break.
Ra'Salore reaches out and helps me into the room. As I roll onto the ground, I take a second to breathe before righting myself and spinning around to help Ulla up as well. Once all three of us are inside, a loud snort from another room breaks the silence.
I freeze, and the choking sound recedes into a deep, labored breath. The house isn’t enormous, so it is easy to pinpoint the woman’s location. Fingering the dagger in my waistband, I draw as much air as possible into my lungs as Ra'Salore and Ulla return to their positions on opposite ends of the room.
As my eyes adjust to the dark space, void of the harrowing light from the moon and stars, I pause. Everything is much larger than the average furniture, and there are paintings of the Zlosian forest.
My heart skips a beat when a stench hits my nose—old blood. I flinch when Ulla touches my elbow.
“Teo,” she whispers in our language. “What’s wrong?”
Another wave of prickling premonition passes over my skin, and I look up, searching for the spy in the shadows.
I take a deep breath and shake her off. “Do you smell that?”
She looks at me, her nose wrinkling. Then she blinks, “Yes. Is the target already dead?”
I shake my head, pulling her toward the room with the closed door and the loud sounds.
Ulla holds up her crystal and shakes her head to confirm there are no enchantments waiting to burn us alive or alert the target.
Strange.
Mrath told us there would be.
Despite the voice in my gut telling me to stop, I put myhandle on the knob and twist, opening it up inch by inch and then all at once.
While my friend stays near the door, I step into the room. The sour stench hits me straight in the face, and I gag.
It’s human, and whoever it is is definitely dead. What in the gods’ holy names happened here?
I raise the knife in my hand, holding my breath, and then stop when I see the large woman lying on her back.
