MERYN
It takes a day to travel by sea back to shore—during which my seasickness most definitely returns. We make landfall south of Blumenfall, avoiding the cliffs that lead to the fiefdom itself.
Then we travel another day by wolfback, constantly looking over our shoulders. It’s grim to think that any soldiers or Bonded we run into will almost certainly be loyal to Killian, not to me. I’m a refugee in my own country.
Meanwhile, Lucien and Elias are miserable in the many layers of clothes we made them pack back in Astreona, just in case.
Venna, Noemi, and I enjoy teasing them about it. We have to take our pleasure where we can find it.
The entire time we travel, I wait for Egith’s terror to wake me in the night should Killian launch an attack on Blumenfall. I reach out to her constantly to ensure she and the rest of the Bonded are still safe.
And I pray, and pray, and pray that Killian hasn’t found the Tear before us. That he’s narcissistic enough to have trusted that I stayed put when he told me to.
Finally, Stark and I sit astride Cratos and Anassa, gazing upon Linsfall in the distance. It looks peaceful from afar. Small.
Standing here surrounded by nature and so far from civilization, everything seems so much more manageable.
But we know from Egith’s intelligence that the entire city has fallen to Killian.
Stark and I are proceeding without the others into the city. Our plan is to go unnoticed, slip in and slip out. Venna and Noemi put up some resistance when I explained the plan, but even they had to admit that Stark and I would be swifter and less likely to be noticed on our own.
I have my own reasons for wanting to leave them behind. Should this mission to retrieve the Tear fail—and Stark and I end up captive or even killed—at least two loyal Nocturnans can still carry on the fight alongside Lucien.
And I know Venna will make sure that Saela is safe, even if I’m gone.
From our perch above Linsfall, I give Stark a tense nod.“Let’s go.”
Cratos and Anassa surge into the expanse of dark terrain. We move along the edge of the forest at first, to maintain cover. I don’t have to use my Kryptos magic in the shadow of the ancient pines. We aren’t the only predators moving in the darkness of Nocturna’s woods; nobody else would be out at this hour.
But soon, the forest gives way and we’re close enough to the city gates that we slow, and I rift to shield us from view.
As we approach Linsfall’s gates, I know that Anassa and I are both thinking back on the first time we came here. How much has changed in such a short time.
That time, thick snow blanketed us as we approached the city, muffling everything around us and giving the streets a dreamlike quality.
This time, we’re just as cloaked, but instead of the silver-white of snow, it’s the deep blue-black of my power sinking us into obscurity, blending us in with the long fingers of shadow cast by pine trees and the dark of the occasional abandoned farmhouse.
I hold my breath as we draw up to the walls, Anassa’s and Cratos’s movements slower and more careful with each step closer to the gates. We settle in towait, as close to the gates as we dare, needing another visitor’s arrival to mask our entrance into the city.
Rifting may hide us from view, but it doesn’t let us walk through stone walls. I haven’t dared attempt that yet.
The four of us are as still as statues as minutes pass into an hour, maybe more. Stark and I have our minds open to each other, of course, and talk occasionally to keep ourselves from going insane, but neither of us wants to remove our focus from staying hidden and alert.
Finally, a horse-drawn cart driven by two figures pulls down the road, slowly approaching the gates at a snail’s pace.
Both are swaddled in cloaks and furs to keep out the cold. I squint, attempting to make out their features as they pass less than a foot from us, but the thick layer of shadow surrounding me blurs my vision and I can’t make them out.
My teeth grind together as the four of us lie in wait, listening to the driver converse with the gate guards.
A man’s voice; he lists the goods in his wagon, wares they’ve brought to trade in the markets. One of the guards slips through a smaller door in the gates to examine the boxes piled on their cart.
Whatever he sees must satisfy him, because he signals to his comrade and the larger gates begin to grind open.
The driver flicks the horses’ leads as the gates widen enough to allow them through, and Anassa and Cratos move fast, silently padding to the rear of the wagon to slip in behind them.
My magic is so thick that the guards don’t even glance our way as we pass.
As soon as we enter the city, we turn down a side street, slinking away quickly. The two horses startle as we move, but the people don’t seem to notice anything amiss.
