Celeste

  “Celeste”

  I blinked and turned my gaze away from the compound and back to Art. Lioren sat beside him, crouched in the brush, but it was Art’s eyes that held mine. There was no impatience in them. Only concern.

  “You with us?” he asked quietly.

  I let out a slow breath and looked back at the compound spread in the basin below. Lanterns burned in scattered pockets of light. Men moved through the yard in unhurried patterns, unaware of the three figures lying in shadow above them.

  “No,” I said honestly. Then I looked back at him. “But I will be.”

  His gaze searched my face for a moment, as if considering the truth of that. Then he nodded once.

  He shifted slightly, turning so both Lioren and I could see him clearly, though his voice remained little more than a murmur. “Like I was saying, I’ll get you in through the side door. Once you’re inside, you’ll wait for my signal. Stay put until I’ve taken the tower and the yard.”

  Lioren gave a small grunt of agreement.

  “You’ll see the lantern light flicker in three’s. When you do, you move straight for the basement entrance. The guard there is your target first, as quiet as you can.”

  “And we handle any guards inside, quietly. Then free the prisoners and move them back to the door,” I said. “I might not be fully here, but I’m listening.”

  Art’s eyes shifted back to me. “You’ve got this.” He said softly. “And you’ve got me.”

  I nodded, letting his words erase some of the tremor in my hands.

  Silence fell over us for a few moments, broken only by the faint creak of wood drifting up from the compound and the distant stamp of a horse somewhere below.

  Lioren leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he studied the walls. “And you?” he asked Art. “After the tower?”

  “I keep the yard clear. I’ll deal with anyone who gets too close.”

  Art glanced back toward the compound, then to me again. “Do you know how many prisoners they keep down there?”

  I shook my head slowly.

  My gaze drifted back to the compound, though I wasn’t seeing it anymore—only the cell, as if I were still inside. “When they brought me in… walking that hallway, there had to be around thirty cells. I just don’t know how many were occupied.”

  Art nodded once. “That’s enough to plan with.”

  I looked back down at the compound, at the central building where the stone dropped into darkness below ground, and felt something inside me harden into quiet resolve. The fear was still there, coiled somewhere deep, but it no longer ruled my hands or my breath.

  Faylen was in there.

  And this time, I wasn’t leaving without her. Not again.

  “Thirty people won’t move fast,” Lioren said. “Not in the dark. And not after months in chains.”

  “They don’t need to move fast. Our only goal is to get them out of the compound, through the hidden door. Once they’re outside the walls, they’re no longer hostages,” Art said.

  “And then?” I asked.

  “Then we go back,” Art said. “I’ll need you and Lioren to open the gate and get the horses out of there.”

  Lioren frowned slightly. “Aye. It won’t take long for someone to find a body or an empty cell. Once they realize what’s happened, they’ll saddle every horse they have and come after us.”

  I could picture it, torches moving through the trees, riders spreading in a wide arc.

  Art nodded once. “While you’re getting the gate open and the horses loose, I’ll be moving through the outer yard. Anyone I can reach without raising an alarm, I kill. Fewer men to organize. Fewer riders to give chase.”

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Below us, iron shrieked against stone as the portcullis began to rise. The sound carried, echoing through the basin as a lone rider was admitted before night fully claimed the sky.

  Lioren winced. “That thing screams louder than a man being gutted.”

  Art’s expression hardened slightly as he stared toward the compound. “We won’t have much time once you start opening that thing. Anyone close enough will hear it, and someone will come to see why it’s being opened in the middle of the night.”

  Lioren was quiet for a long moment, staring down at the walls, the towers, the lanternlight in the yard below.

  Then he looked back at Art. “And if the plan goes to shit?”

  Art nodded once, as if he’d already answered that question a dozen times in his own head. “Then I stop being careful.” He looked back at Lioren. “And kill as many of them as I can before they understand what’s happening.”

  Lioren’s mouth pulled into a crooked grin. “Well, that part of the plan I like.”

  Art exhaled quietly, but there was no humor in it. “If it comes to that, you don’t’ stay,” he said. “You get the prisoners clear and keep moving. I’ll handle the rest.”

  Lioren’s grin faded. “Handle the rest,” he repeated.

  “I’ll draw them off. I’m faster than anything they’ve got in there. I can always get away on foot.”

  “No,” Lioren and I said at the same time.

  Art blinked, glancing between us.

  Lioren shook his head. “You remember the last time you ran off alone? Lost your boots and came back half dead?”

  Art opened his mouth to answer, but I cut him off before he could. “I’m not losing you to save time. And I’m not walking away while you bleed for us.”

  I kept looking at him until his resistance broke. His jaw tightened, then he nodded once, small and resigned.

  “Then we do it clean,” he said at last. “Fast and no hesitation.”

  Lioren let out a slow breath and leaned back slightly against a tree, eyes drifting once more to the compound below. “Then it’s just a matter of waitin’ until the dead of night.”

  No one answered. The sky above the basin had deepened to a dark violet, the last of the light draining from the horizon. More lanterns burned below, their glow brighter against the darkening yard.

  We tied our horses farther back, out of sight and out of sound of the compound. Times like this, I wished I could run my fingers through my gelding’s mane to soothe him—and myself.

  After a moment, Lioren nodded toward the far side of the wall. “You sure that’s where this hidden door is supposed to be?” he asked Art.

  “I can’t see it either,” I said, before he could speak. I lifted and hand and pointed toward a darker stretch of trees beyond the wall, where the ground sloped slightly and the brush grew thicker. “But I recognize the land. When they took me out that night, they led me into the woods in that direction.”

  The memory rose unbidden, but I pushed it back before it could take hold.

  Lioren cleared his throat, touching his braided beard as his eyes moved away from me and back toward the compound.

  Below us, guards moved the yard with lanterns, the lights bobbing like small stars. Counting the lanterns and shifting shapes, I estimated there were a dozen of them.

  The forest cooled as the last of the day’s warmth bled away. Insects began making their frantic chorus in the night. Somewhere far off, an owl called once, then again.

  I kept my eyes on the compound as the time passed, but my thoughts wandered.

  Fragments of what was and what will be. I didn’t follow any of it far. I let the thoughts come and go like drifting smoke, never staying long enough to take shape.

  Movement beside me pulled me back.

  Art had moved closer without a word. When I turned, he was already looking at me.

  Neither of us spoke. What little moonlight was out tonight touched the edges of his face, catching in his eyes. He gave a small smile, a quiet one, meant only for me.

  Slowly, I leaned my head against his shoulder.

  He didn’t move at first, but then I felt him lean gently into me, his shoulder settling beneath my cheek, warm and comforting.

  We stayed like that.

  The night deepened. The lanterns below burned lower and in fewer number. A breeze moved through the trees, stirring leaves in soft whispers. Lioren moved quietly, keeping watch without intruding.

  “When this is over,” Art said after a while, “there are things I need to tell you. Things I should’ve told you sooner.”

  I lifted my head slightly, looking at him.

  He didn’t meet my eye at first. “I’ve spent a long time keeping parts of myself locked away,” he went on. “Some of it was caution. Part of it was fear.” His mouth twitched faintly. “And some of it… was me being a coward.”

  He finally looked at me then.

  “When this is finished… I don’t’ want to hide anymore. Not from you.”

  He hesitated, then added more softly. “If you still want to hear it.”

  I looked into his pale gray eyes without answering. The last light caught on the silver in his ear, at the beard that had grown in while he was gone. His hair was pulled back, his features as sharp as ever, and for a moment, all I could think was how close he felt. How close he’d almost been lost.

  I reached up and slid my hand behind his neck, pulling him toward me.

  He didn’t resist.

  Our lips met, soft at first, then surer, the world narrowing to warmth and breath and the beat of my heart that no longer felt like it was trembling. His hand came to my shoulder, then to my back, holding me there as if he were afraid I might disappear if he let go too soon.

  We stayed like that for a few quiet seconds, the forest breathing around us, the distant sounds of the compound fading into nothing.

  When we finally pulled apart, I rested my head against his shoulder again, and he leaned into me, his cheek brushing lightly against my hair.

  Lioren cleared his throat. “Don’t mind me,” he muttered. “I’ll just sit here and be lonely in silence.”

  Art huffed a quiet breath that might have been a laugh.

  Lioren snorted softly but said nothing more.

  The night deepened around us while we stayed where we were, watching.

  Eventually, Art shifted beside me.

  I lifted my head, already knowing what he was going to say before he spoke.

  “It’s time,” he said quietly.

  I nodded once.

  Below us, the compound lay in shadow and lanternlight, silent and waiting.

  And so were we.