Page 8 of A Sword of Shadow and Deceit

The man is the first out of the stairwell and he pulls back the second he sees Regis, suspicion and wariness in his gaze. “It’s fine,” I assure him, stopping him from his retreat. “He’s with me.”

Regis' sharp inhalation reaches my ears and I turn back, but his eyes aren’t on me. They’re on the small figure attached to the man’s back. He shoots a look my way and I shake my head. Now is definitely not the time. I’m sure he understands that as well as anyone. We’re still in enemy territory and our next goal should be getting out of here.

“The fire will lead the guards down to the lower chambers soon enough,” he finally says, eyeing the man and woman. “They won’t be able to climb, so we should take them to the messenger gate along the north wall.”

I nod and gesture for him to go forth. “Lead the way.”

He gives the couple another last look before doing just that. Together, the group of us move as quietly as possible as we slip through the courtyard and along the back wall. After several minutes, the sound of shouts and curses rise into the night sky. The woman whimpers quietly behind me and I glance back to see her clutching at her husband—silent tears trickling down her cheeks, washing through the dirt and grime in clear lines.

“They’re going to catch us,” she sobs.

“No, they’re not,” I assure her, pausing as I allow her and her husband to move forward. “Keep following my friend,” I say. “If anything happens, I’ll lead the guards away.”

“Thank you,” the man whispers, his voice tight and breathless. He’s shocked me with how well he’s managed so far, but I’m glad that Regis recommended the gate. There truly is no way he’d have been able to climb with his wounds.

The woman’s feet begin to stumble along the path and as the voices from the castle grow louder, I practically push her forward, forcing her to move faster and faster despite her obvious exhaustion.

Finally, a thin metal gate comes into view. Regis stops ahead and holds up a fist, telling the rest of us silently that it’s time to make our escape. I push in front of the couple once more. “Stay here,” I whisper to them as I approach Regis.

“What do you see?” he asks.

I scan the wall and up and down the sides of the gate. There are no guards, which could mean this is a forgotten entrance. However, we know better than to trust simple exits. I close my eyes and push out my Divinity once more, sensing the slow buzz that only I can recognize. It moves out in waves, lapping at each and every object surrounding me.

I can sense the bone-jarring emotions of the couple behind us and Regis’ icy exterior. Beyond that, the warmth of the soil, and then … there it is. The very thing we’d both been worried about. “The lock’s enchanted,” I say. “If we break it or pick it without the key then it’ll send an alert to its owner.”

“Just the lock?” Regis inquires.

I nod and he breathes a sigh that sounds like relief. “What are you thinking of?”

Instead of answering, Regis removes the pack on his back and slings back the top flap, reaching inside to pull out a thin leather case. “If we can’t go through the gates, then all we need to do is simply remove one side.”

I frown, confused. “What are you—”

“Stay here with the couple and keep watch,” Regis cuts me off, handing me his pack. “I’ll be right back.

A curse strangles in my throat as he moves away faster than I can catch him and I’m left to follow his orders with nothing else. “Where’s he going?” the man behind me asks quietly.

“He’s checking the gate,” I say, turning and eyeing him. “You look like you’re going to pass out.”

“Gordon?” Irina clutches his hand and looks up at him at my words. “Is Henry too heavy? Should I take him?”

He shakes his head and through the sweat covering his brow, he clenches his teeth. “No,” he replies. “I can handle my son.”

“You should at least sit down while we wait,” I order. The man jerks his head to the side. I scowl. “It wasn’t a suggestion,” I say. “Sit down before I make you.”

The man pales and then pushes himself up a little more, using the wall as leverage. “I can’t,” he replies.

“Why?” I demand.

He blanches and after a beat, he lowers his voice. “I don’t think I could stand back up if I sit now.”

I frown and move towards him. I touch his chest and smooth my fingers over his ribs as he breathes shallowly. Concern bites at my insides. If he’s truly as bad as he seems, then it’s a wonder he’s even moving. “Does it hurt to breathe?” I ask.

He nods.

My gaze narrows on his expression. “Does it feel like stinging or burning?”

“Both.” He hisses between his teeth.

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