Page 35 of Keldori By Daybreak

Orla craned her neck to get a better view through the carved window, but her eyes flitted to meet mine. An intrepid smile worked its way across her face. “There you are, Just-Wren. Exactly how I remember you, blue hair and all. Are you ready?”

“Are you?”

Her smile slipped away as quickly as it had appeared.

“No. But it’s alright.” Orla took a swig of Skal and returned the bottle to her belt. “Right. Stay close.”

She swung her leg up through the window and dropped out of sight on the other side.

Ciarán hesitated before following her, looking me up and down. He’d summoned me in armor similar in color and style to what he and Sabrina typically wore, and when I placed a searching hand to my neck, I found the folds of a face cowl identical to his.

“I’ll admit. I forgot just how blue you are like this.” Ciarán’s eyebrow quirked. “After you, my Lady.”

“Yeah, well, you look—” My retort died on my lips. He looked paler than usual, and his pallid skin glistened with sweat. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Now get in the mountain.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“Are you guys coming?” Orla hissed from the other side of the window.

Ciarán nodded for me to follow her. I scowled, pulled the cowl over my chin and nose, and climbed into the open mountain.

A wave of warmth pressed over me as I passed through the window, and the wind that had pulled at my hair just a moment ago cut, leaving me in the dark, still confines of a high-ceilinged corridor.

Ciarán heaved himself after me, dropping to the floor with less grace than I was used to seeing him move with.

“The windows are enchanted,” Orla explained when she caught me staring at the night sky through the openings. “There’s a barrier that keeps the warmth in and the wind out.”

“Clever.” Ciarán stuck his hand back through the window and twisted his fingers in the outside wind. “That’s advanced Skalmagick.”

“We have good Magicians.” Orla flexed her hands and turned to the open corridor ahead of us. “Luckily, most of those Magicians should be asleep, and these upper floors are mostly observation decks. If we stick to the back stairwells, we should make it to the prison suite unseen.”

“Oh, good. More stairs.” Ciarán rubbed at his temple but pushed himself to his feet to follow Orla with faltering steps.

“And if there are guards?” I asked.

“There shouldn’t be,” Orla explained. “We have no need for guards inside the city because no one knows the city exists. There will likely be one outside Iseult’s prison cell, but we can handle that when we get there.”

Ciarán paused and braced himself against the wall of the corridor in the shadow between two moonbeams.

“Are you sure you’re good?” I asked him through our tether.

“Ask again, Blue, and I’ll dissolve you and finish this job without you.” He forced himself to straighten up and immediately doubled over before hissing out loud, “Dammit, why is it so hard to breathe?”

“Probably the altitude,” I said. “We’re too high up, and there’s less oxygen. And you did just climb a mountain.”

He glared at me through bits of dark hair that hung loose from his bun. “But she’s fine! And you!”

“Orla’s from here. Her body is used to it. And I’m not a real body.” I shifted my weight from foot to foot as Orla crept down the hall without us. “Can I help somehow? What if I held your hand, or—”

“I’m good.” Ciarán staggered after Orla, but his shoulders heaved with breaths that I knew weren’t delivering enough oxygen.

Orla kept the windows to our left until we came to an off-shooting corridor, and she ducked into its shadows. Flickering green light glowed somewhere around a corner, but Orla led us into a twisting stairwell before we could find its source.

The walls pressed on either side of us and the stairs spiraled so tightly that they were nearly unclimbable, but each step was a tiny triumph. I could take on these stairs. We would rescue Iseult. We would escape the Second Sentinel. We would find our way back to Keel Watch Harbor, and everything would go back to normal.

Except that where each step was a victory for me and my wholly-made body, they appeared to be a hard-fought battle for Ciarán. He pulled his cowl down to better catch his breath as we climbed.