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Drever and Gair will make the distraction out front, Rob and I will slip over the wall and free the captives while the guards are distracted. Simple, direct, and so full of possible failure that sickness lies heavily in my belly.

I’m leaning on fate and a mystical title given to me by others, that so far hasn’t done a whole hell of a lot for me. But it’s time to put it all to the test. I’m the Destroyer and so far, when I’m under pressure is when whatever magic I have access to seems to respond best.

The other two men slip away. Their crouched shadows race across the land, going wide to avoid the patrols that range close to the keep. Rob and I wait in heavy silence. My stomach is an empty pit with a fluttery feeling.

Minutes stretch past, each one feeling like hours. They’re taking too long; something has gone wrong. I look at Rob, who is stoic and as calm as a peaceful river. No nervous tics, not a single hint that he’s worried in the slightest. When I shift my weight from one side to the other, rustling the grass, Rob’s glance is full of admonition and forces me to lie still.

I count my heartbeats to measure the time and stare at the castle. The torches and fires inside the castle cast terrifying shadows that dance on the stone walls. The shadows look like dark demons who are trying to tear their way through to this reality. There is a truth in that thought which reinforces the sick feeling in my stomach. I close my eyes and push the idea away. Rob inhales sharply and I snap my eyes open as shouts rise from beyond the walls. I look past the castle.

“Oh,” I gasp.

They didn’t start a fire; they started an inferno. Bright yellow flames lick at the sky like long burning fingers reaching for the heavens. Mundane or magic, it doesn’t matter, this is it. Cold reality clenches and calms my nerves.

“Move,” Rob hisses, already on his feet in a crouch and moving towards the wall.

I bounce up and follow behind as he leads us to the wall. More shouts come from beyond it and being closer I hear voices issuing conflicting orders. The confusion is clear and exactly what we’d hoped to create. Head on a swivel I don’t see a single guard and hope that means they all rushed to the front to investigate.

The wall is taller than I thought. Looking up I touch it, and while it’s not smooth there aren’t any easy handholds. We need ropes and grapples. I curse under my breath, staring and chewing my lower lip.

“It’s too tall,” I say, looking at Rob. Fear trails cold fingers up my spine. This is where I fail. “I can’t climb this.”

ChapterFifteen

“I can. Here,”Rob says.

He crouches and bends over, interlacing his hands to form a stirrup. I hesitate for a mere second, but he motions sharply, and I place my foot in his hands. Instantly I’m thrown into the air. Holding in a surprised yelp I barely have the presence of mind to grasp the top edge of the wall. My hands, knees, and chest scrape on the stones but I manage to hang by the tips of my fingers.

It hurts, bad, but I grit my teeth and scrabble with my feet. Straining with all my might I pull myself up. I don’t think there’s any way in the world I could have done this before I trained with the Druid, but my body is much stronger now. I get my elbow over the edge and that eases the pressure of my hanging weight. A bit more scrambling and I get my left foot over the edge, then it’s easy. I roll and lie flat on top of the wall.

Rob climbs over the edge easily and gracefully. Silently I curse his athleticism, but I know it’s pure jealousy. He doesn’t rise but keeps rolling to the inside edge and drops off without a bit of hesitation. Rolling my eyes, I take a breath then mimic the move.

There is, obviously, some part of this maneuver that I don’t know because I fall off the inside edge and try to twist to avoid hurting myself but all to no avail. I land hard enough to knock the air out of my lungs, leaving me gasping like a fish out of water.

“Ach, you’ll need to work on that,” Rob says, helping me to a sitting position.

Air rushes into my burning lungs and I shake my head.

“You think?”

We’re crouching behind a line of low-cut decorative bushes through which we can see the open courtyard. The center of the area has been excavated. I can’t see into the pit, but it looks to be about fifteen feet square and there is a loud, menacing growl coming from it.

Around the pit are six evenly spaced bonfires. Along the walls torches on stakes are evenly placed into the ground. All the fire makes the area well lit, almost as bright as if the sun were in the sky but with a lot more shadows.

Beyond the pit, built close to the far edge below the castle is a large, two-tiered stage. The lower tier has long tables with benches that are laden with food. A few nobles mill around talking and looking back and forth between the raging fire at the front of the castle and down into the pit.

The second tier is dominated by a large, throne-like chair and an array of other fancy, cushioned chairs that line a single long table. This is where my attention is drawn, forcefully. Lord Nicholas stands behind the table, in front of the center chair, and he takes my breath away as if I’ve been punched in the gut.

He’s even worse than when I met him the first time. Darker. Shadows dance around him so blatantly I can’t believe no one else sees it. I don’t know if it’s a trick of the lighting or an actuality, but his eyes look like burning pits. There is a rictus grin on his face as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. Darkness pulsates from him, a wrongness that causes bile to burn up my throat.

Rob clenches my shoulder, pulling my attention away from the Dark Fae, and points. To our right is a row of wooden cages. Duncan leans against the bars of one, staring at Lord Nicholas. His face is swollen and bloody. His left arm hangs in a wrong angle, clearly broken.

“Ach, having a wee problem, me Lord?” Duncan taunts.

“Bring him!” Lord Nicholas orders.

The arrogance in his stance, the way he looks down his nose and gestures idly as if the world isn’t literally on fire around him is sickening. He’s not afraid and he should be. It’s key to our success that he’s off his game, and seeing him act like this sows seeds of doubt.

Shouts come from the front of the castle, but Lord Nicholas is unphased. Most of the guards are gone, though we’d hoped for all of them to go. The nobles are nervous. They gather into a huddle on one side of their dais while two guards drag Duncan out of the cage. He struggles but it’s futile.

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