Page 12 of Path of the Dark
4
Gael’s Chance
Veldoras
The Kingdom of Thûn
GAEL’S CHANCE CAME near midnight. He’d been lurking in the shadows for hours waiting for this moment.
The day had been long, grey, and tedious in this stinking sewer of a city. Night fell later too this time of year, as summer took hold. It had meant he’d had to wait a while before taking up position in the deep shadows of the pillars either side of the East Bridge.
Finally, a carriage rumbled over the bridge, drawn by two grey horses, their shod hooves clattering over the cobbles.
“It’s time,” he whispered, patting the collar of his leather tunic. He’d unlaced it at the throat, allowing a small, furry body to squeeze in against his heart.
At last,the voice of his familiar whispered back.Let’s go.
Gael pushed himself off the cool stone pillar, gathering the Dark as he went, and slipped in behind the carriage. He jogged after it, the soft pad of his boots drowned out by the clamor of the wheels and hooves. After hours of stillness, his limbs felt stiff. The scars to his left calf, right shoulder, and left ribcage—all from a year earlier—ached dully. However, he ignored the discomfort, his attention focused ahead.
Before him, the oak and iron gates to The Swallow Keep drew open. Guards dressed in black leather with flowing red cloaks nodded to the driver. Shrouded by shadows, Gael smiled.He’d chosen the right carriage to follow; there would be no delays.
The shadowed bulk of the great keep rose before him—a massive crenelated castle flanked by two turreted towers. The blue-grey stone appeared gilded tonight, illuminated by the braziers burning in the bailey below.
Gael followed the carriage into the inner bailey. He took care to hug its shadow, for although he’d cloaked himself in the Dark, making it difficult for the casual observer to pick him out, he wanted to save his enchantment for later—for when he would truly need it.
As the carriage pulled up, and the driver got down to assist its occupants, Gael slipped away. Once again, he gathered the Dark. The shadows around him slithered across the cobbles at his command, shielding him from view.
Confidently, he strode up the steps and into the keep. The two men guarding the entrance, dressed in the black and scarlet livery of Anthor, didn’t glance his way.
Gael walked into the great entrance hall and drew up short.
Few things left him breathless these days, yet the sight of the interior of The Swallow Keep momentarily gave him pause. Candlelight illuminated the vaulted space, rows of candles lighting the wide spiral staircase that led upstairs. Pale, gleaming marble covered the floor. Bands of friezes wrapped around the walls, depicting the many victories of Thûn in years gone by.
Keep moving.
His familiar was right, Gael wasn’t here to admire the friezes. His attention swiveled to the foot of the sweeping staircase, where two more Anthor soldiers were stationed. They stood in silence, hard gazes trained on the entrance.
Gael’s skin prickled. He knew they couldn’t see him, although their stares put him on edge nonetheless.
He crept across the floor toward the stairs, glad of his soft-soled hunting boots. They barely made a whisper on the marble floor.
And all the while he kept his gaze trained upon the guards, readying himself to strike should his shadow cloak slip.
Neither man moved.
Gingerly, Gael placed a foot on the stairs, and then another. He breathed slowly as he made his way up past guttering banks of candles.
On the first floor landing he found more guards. Moving carefully, he inched past them. Gael had done his research since arriving in Veldoras. He knew that Reoul’s apartments sat upon the fifth floor of the keep.
Reaching the landing before the king’s quarters, Gael slowed his pace and caught his breath. He moved past the guards stationed here and made his way down a wide hallway. As he walked, he flexed his right hand, rallying the shadows.
Drop the shadow cloak, a soft voice urged him.The time for hiding is over.
Gael flicked his fingers, and the mantle of darkness that had obscured him from view fell away.
Two more guards flanked the entrance to the king’s apartments. Flaming sconces on the wall illuminated the men’s faces. Both men scowled, and their tall muscular frames tensed as Gael drew near.
One of the guards stepped forward and thrust out a spear to block the newcomer’s path. “State your business with the king.”
