Page 103 of Fear the Flames
“I’ll retrieve your knife, you blood-thirsty, beautiful, angel.” Cayden smirks down at me, and I snicker. “We’ll clean the cut later,” he says, walking in the direction of Ryder and Saskia.
Finnian stops a few feet in front of me and grimaces when he sees my neck. “I’ve had worse,” I shrug, unwrapping the bandages and doing two quick loops around my neck.
“That doesn’t mean I’m numb to seeing you hurt,” he replies, stepping forward to help me tie the bandage off. “Good?”
I nod my head in response. “I’m glad you remembered our code.”
“Smart thinking.” He taps his index finger on my head.
“I found something!” Saskia exclaims. Finnian and I crane our heads in her direction and see her holding a piece of paper. We walk over while she skims over whatever it says. “Thank the gods, two good things!”
“Damn, usually we don’t even get one,” Ryder mumbles.
“First,” Saskia says, ignoring Ryder, “we can use this to get across the river in daylight, which will cut our travel time.”
“How so?” Finnian asks, uneasy on his feet. “We just dealt with one skirmish; we don’t need another one in broad daylight with no coverage.”
“It’s an order to get back to the castle. All we have to do is show the seal. The letter isn’t addressed to anyone specific, so I doubt who we are will be of importance.” She closes the letter to reform the broken seal.
“We can take the cloaks from the soldiers. It’ll help us blend in since our cloaks don’t have the silver trim,” I offer.
“We’re going to steal from dead men?” Finnian asks.
“It’s not like they’re going to tell anyone,” Cayden responds.
“They also won’t protest if we take their horses too,” I add.
“Absolutely pitiless.” Cayden looks at me with a dark gleam in his eyes. “What’s the second good thing?” he asks, looking back at Saskia.
She smirks, “There’s a masquerade ball tomorrow night.”
I gasp and let the shock that grips me to melt into hopefulness. Hope is a dangerous thing, something I don’t often let myself feel, but I can’t stop myself. Judging by the looks on everyone’s faces, we all have the same thought—it will be so much easier to infiltrate the castle during a masquerade ball. We’ll be wearing masks, so there’s less of a chance for anyone to recognize us.
There’s a small crack in the woods behind us. We all fall silent for a few moments, but nothing comes from it. It’s most likely a small creature, but we should still get out of here now. Cayden appears next to me as I walk over to the saddled horses. We only need five out of the seven, but we aren’t far from the bridge, so a patrol will find them soon.
“What about the bodies?” I ask Cayden.
“We’ll be across the river by the time someone spots them. Garrick won’t strengthen the castle because of a few dead soldiers on the other side of the Emer.” I hope he’s right. I knew it was a low possibility to get to the castle without encountering any soldiers, but it still feels wrong to just leave evidence behind. He must notice the uneasiness on my face because he adds, “We’re going to need to acquire proper disguises if we’re going to infiltrate a masquerade ball.”
A smile lifts the corner of my lips. “Will the robbery ever end?” We have some money with us, but nowhere near enough for ball gowns and suits.
“Ask me again when you’re not stealing another horse.”
“You can’t steal from a dead man!” I poke him in the side. “And this is mutualstealingbetween all of us, so my debauchery cancels out.”
“The morals on the two of you are admirable,” Ryder jests.
“Don’t act like you don’t share them,” Cayden says.
“I do,” Ryder smirks, “I just prefer the more subtle approach to duplicity.”
ChapterForty-Two
We nestle into a narrow alleyway in the capital of Imirath, the city of Zinambra. None of us have ventured into the heart of the city yet. We all agreed the less exposure, the better, and plan on hiding out here and taking our chances later. Saskia assured me that Ryder, Cayden, and she are all too new in their positions to be recognized on the streets. They’ve never been to a war council—tension has been too high to even attempt to convene one. But just to be safe, Finnian is currently inside the inn we stand beside to book us a room. I volunteered to book the room but was met with a unanimous protest.
I’ve never been to a place like this before. Well, I suppose I have been here but not truly. The Emer breaks off into several canals, which is what the city is built on, with several bridges stretching across the canals to connect everything. We’re on the edge of the center isle, the most populated one that leads directly to the castle.
Water trickles under the wooden boards we stand on, pushing and pulling the tide under us depending on the boats that slowly float by. The inn is on the edge of the isle, so building a dock was necessary. A light dusting of snow coats the roofs of the surrounding buildings, and boats dodge small pieces of ice in the water. The smoke that lingers around chimneys is a mocking contrast to the breath that clouds in front of my face.
