What sort of power would it take to create and maintain such camouflage?
Another shudder clawed up my spine as I winced and snatched my hand away. Unnerving gardening practices weren’t my objective. Needing to focus on my mission, I continued toward the castle.
Hypervigilant, every step cautious and guarded, I crept through the trees and bushes. I’d almost made it to my goal when voices sent me scurrying behind a tree. Crouching low, I willed myself to become one with the deepest shadows, held my breath, and waited.
Two males spoke in a language I didn’t recognize as they approached, their footsteps steady and their conversation boisterous. At least twenty feet separated us when they passed, heading away from the castle, but I caught whiffs of minerals, earth, salt, and something ancient I couldn’t place. They had to be gargoyles.
Having never seen one before, curiosity nibbled at the edgesof my patience, but not enough to risk my life. I didn’t take a single peek. Once they stepped beyond my hearing, I peeled myself from my hiding tree and resumed my careful approach.
Far too soon, I reached the outer ramparts, also camouflaged by vines. Ignoring the disturbing tingle of magic, I used an especially sturdy branch to scale the massive wall. On the roof, I stayed hidden in the overgrowth and used the higher vantage point to search for the gargoyles, but they were out of sight.
Blood pounded in my ears as I mapped out my escape route back to the hedge. Assured of the fastest way out, I mustered up the courage to creep across the flat roof, angling to investigate the massive mezzanine-style rectangle at the castle’s center. Both stories opened onto an outside courtyard occupied by—I sniffed—fresh water? An enormous in-ground swimming pool? I squinted and waited. When no unusual shadows or ripples appeared in the dark depths, I turned my attention to the stone archways separating the courtyard from the dark recesses. Anything could be lying in wait down there, and my backbone threatened to liquefy at all the potential traps. Another deep inhale through my nose turned up the scent of roses and more hints of an apex predator.
Still, no eyes glowed from the shadows. There were no scuffling sounds, no flickers of movement, and I was wasting time. Senses on high alert, and regulating my breathing so I wouldn’t freaking hyperventilate, I climbed down a vine into the courtyard. When nothing jumped me, I relaxed fractionally and started my search.
Sereana hadn’t given me directions in the traditional sense of the word. Instead, the witch had telepathically sent a series of images to my mind. It was a disturbing ability, but pretty much everything my aunt did gave me nightmares.
Closing my eyes, I imagined the visual treasure map that started in the courtyard. Four sets of unique wooden dragons topped the newel posts of the marble staircases leading to thesecond story. Fixing on the details of the correct set, I opened my eyes and found the snarling, swooping beasts.
Interesting choice of decor.
Ignoring the inner voice shrieking at me to run away, I slipped up the stairs and into the dark castle. The feral, icy scent grew stronger the higher I climbed, turning each step into a battle against common sense. I knew this way led to death, but I had to keep moving.
I had to try.
The last war had taken my pack to the brink of extinction. We’d hidden and licked our wounds, burying our dead and pledging vengeance. My father and his officers spent decades planning and preparing to wipe out our enemies once and for all so we could finally live in peace. This artifact was the key to everything.
Taking a quick moment to recenter, every inch of me primed to run, I imagined the map again to locate the correct corridor and followed it to the treasure room without incident.
I took a slow, measured breath as the trepidation in my chest grew big enough to consume me. This gig was about to get a lot more complicated.
Stick to the program.
Pausing outside the door, I clicked on the headlamp Velcroed to my baseball cap.
Nothing happened.
Shit. The barrier must have fried that, too.
A setback, but it wasn’t the end of the world since I had a backup plan. Retrieving a lighter from my backpack, I said a silent prayer and turned the spark wheel. A small flame flared, followed by the faint stench of lighter fluid. I nearly cheered as the light reflected off the doorknob and keyhole. Expecting it to be locked, I gripped the knob and tried it anyway. A shiver of surprised unease crawled down my spine when it opened. I tensed as the door silently swung forward on well-oiled hinges, and flashes of light nearly startled a scream out of me. That would have beenboth tragic and embarrassing, considering it was my own faint light reflecting off thousands of shiny, glittering surfaces.
The castle remained silent, and my breathing evened out. I couldn’t stand there holding the lighter all night, so I released the flame and backtracked down the hall to where I’d spotted candle wall sconces. Plucking one candle from its holder, I carried it back to the treasure room, lit it, and balanced it on the floor, quietly shutting the door behind me before I turned to evaluate the next step of my challenge.
Not even Sereana’s mental images could have prepared me for the splendor of the cavernous room. Piles of gold coins and gems were everywhere. A diamond as big as my fist peeked out of an ancient treasure chest. Weapon racks loaded with swords, rapiers, battle axes, and maces—all with gaudy gem-encrusted hilts—covered one entire wall. A giant-sized medieval suit of gilded armor stood sentry over the mess, strands of every gem imaginable hanging from its arms. I gaped at it, half expecting the monstrosity to come to life and start flinging necklaces at me.
The room was peacocky as hell, and yet I felt an odd twinge of jealousy at the stash. My hand reached out, almost of its own accord, to snag a nearby emerald-encrusted tiara, but I got a grip just in time and stopped myself. I’d been warned that the moment I touched anything in this room, the owner would be alerted to my presence. How? No clue. But there was only one treasure worth the risk of death.
I spotted the wooden box resting atop a pedestal at the back of the room, right where Sereana had shown me it would be. Later, I’d wonder how she’d seen this room and yet neglected to grab the artifact herself, but for now, I had to focus on reaching it without touching anything else.
Unwilling to risk a stroll through unstable piles of potential booby traps, I unstrapped the crossbow pistol from my backpack and gave it a quick once-over. Deadly up to forty feet, it packed a hundred pounds of draw weight and was as accurate as a full-sizemodel. Rust had welded an electric reel loaded with thin enchanted rope onto it.
Removing two weighted bolts from my pack, I threaded the rope through one bolt hole and tied it off before loading the crossbow. With a silent prayer that the influx of magic hadn’t fried the weapon, I aimed at the back wall and fired. The bolt sailed through the air with a faint whirr and bit into the wall with a thwap. Relief coursed through my veins, stuttering when a small hunk of plaster broke free and tumbled to the ground with a barely audible smack.
I froze and listened, tension locking up every muscle.
Silence.
Second hurdle successfully vaulted, I sagged in relief for a moment before getting back to business and loading the next bolt, which I shot into the wall beside me, about a foot above my head. After reattaching the crossbow to my bag, I cut the rope, threaded the loose end through the second bolt hole, pulled it taut, and knotted it, creating a tightrope approximately six and a half feet in the air. Tugging on a pair of thick leather gloves, I jumped, grabbing the rope to dangle above the treasure piles. Pulling my knees up to my chest and hooking one heel over the line, I shimmied across the room, careful not to touch a thing, and wishing the camera on my hat was working so Rust could see my cat burglar prowess and know all his training hadn’t been in vain.
