Cade stumbled through the catacombs back to the Twisted Oak, smelling of ash and pine and ink-stained paper.
Seven hours.
He had been in that fates-cursed grove behind the cabin for seven hours.
His everything hurt.
Cade’s fingers shook erratically as they grabbed the rusted iron rungs of the ladder that led up to the trapdoor. Fresh blisters coated his hands, and he grimaced as the cold metal bit into the raw flesh. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to care that much, as his body felt more alive than ever before, even with the exhaustion. He felt more himself, as if he’d woken up from some slumber he hadn’t known he’d been in.
Grinning, he raised his leaden arms to climb a little higher. Each new step up the ladder caused a fresh wave of agony to spread up his arms. His eyelids drooped. With an effort that rivaled the war against the gods, he made it to the top and shoved the trapdoor open.
Coughing hoarsely, he pulled himself and pressed the latch that opened the way into the kitchen of the Twisted Oak. The young thief wiped at his face, dismissing the ash that flecked his tunic and cloak even as he smeared it a bit across his features.
A woman yelped at his sudden appearance, and Cade barely managed to duck a buttery projectile that arced toward his head.
“What the…” he asked in a tired whisper but made it no further as his would-be attacker sighed in relief.
“By the three shades of Destiny, what in the blazes are ya doing up so early?” Greta demanded as she waved a wooden spoon doused in flour at him.
She breathed another curse under her breath and strode up to him in three quick steps. The faint scars and wrinkles that marked her face crinkled tightly with concern as she took in his wearied form.
“Can it be early if it’s so late?” Cade asked dryly.
“Four hells, boy. Were you out there all night? Don’t you have the final trial today?” Greta planted her hands on her hips, spoon and all.
Cade rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I needed to finish something out there that wouldn’t be strictly safe—or legal—to do in the city.”
“Well, you’ve still got a few hours before the rest of your strange jumble of a team is up. Sit.” She gestured with a ladle at a bent wooden chair shoved into one of the tight corners of the large kitchen.
He didn’t protest, saddling up to the decrepit slab of wood while praying to the gods of furniture that this seat didn’t fail him.
It didn’t.
He sighed as he sagged into the three-legged chair, his limbs pinned to his sides by bone-deep exhaustion. He watched numbly as Greta’s calloused fingers kneaded the dough on the clean wooden surface of her work table, errant flour puffing into the dawn-lit air as she worked. Without looking at him, she tossed another projectile at him. The dregs of his adrenaline kicked in, and he barely managed to raise a hand to catch the beige sphere. It was oily and smooth and smelled like the famed ambrosia deities enjoyed.
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His tired grin widened.
Damn, even my reflexes have improved, Cade observed with utter triumph.
“Oh, don’t give me that look, boy. You’re gonna drool all over my kitchen. It’s just a butter roll. Eat up, then go get some shut-eye. I’ve met undead with more pep in their step than you have right now.”
Greta started to roll out the dough with a heavy pin, ignoring Cade’s moans of delight at the divine bread she had plucked from the heavens only to bestow onto him.
Truly, there was hope in this world.
“You sound worse than that ascot-wearing dog when he’s found a new lady to warm his bed. Go to sleep, boy.”
Despite the innkeeper’s protestations, Cade heard the note of concern she hid beneath her words.
“Fine, aunty,” Cade answered through a mouthful of roll.
She threw another one at his head, this time with the intent to harm. He caught it and her threats and curses grew all the more vicious as he tiptoed out of the kitchen, a cheeky grin spreading ear to ear as he raced away.
A large wooden spoon smacked into the swinging doors that led into the tavern proper right as Cade snatched yet another pastry for the road.
Climbing up the stairs and into his small room, Cade’s mind drifted over the previous day. It was an absolute blur of events, each detail sliding into place within his spiderwebbed plan.
So much rode on factors beyond his control, and it drove him crazy. Still, the aspects he could influence were all set. Their venture into the Lifekeeper vaults was a complete success, even if Bazz had dragged his feet akin to some senile leviathan desperate to prove his fading grandeur and self-importance.
The real effort had been to convince Nora and Elena that their items were, in fact, essential components of the plan.
He smiled as he unclasped his dark brown cloak, letting it tumble to the wooden floorboards with a thick plume of ash and pine needles. Boots still on, he plopped onto his bed while he finished off the pastries. He smiled sleepily as he recalled the look on the Lifekeepers’ faces when his team began to demand their items. He had saved his request for last—the one that nearly got them all kicked out and arrested for heresy.
But Life had said that anything was available to them within those vaults.
His eyes glanced over to the leather pack that leaned against his desk, the inkpot atop the semicircular table empty. The contents of his pack probably cost more than the Twisted Oak and the surrounding district, but he wouldn’t tell anyone that. He would be sure to bring them with him, just in case.
He had done it. It had taken hours and hours upon hours of concentrated effort, but Cade had finally broken through. The scroll Stephen the Lich had given him helped him to push his limits beyond what he thought was possible.
In the final hours, Cade had entered a state of transcendent focus. The world around him had faded away, his consciousness centered entirely on the roiling energy within his core. With a final, titanic effort, he had compressed this energy, forcing it to collapse in on itself.
He broke through the peak stage of copper rank and ascended to silver.
The moment of breakthrough had been both terrifying and exhilarating. His copper core had cracked, then shattered like glass. For a heart-stopping moment, Cade had teetered on the edge of the surge of raw power, his very essence threatening to unravel.
But then, from the fragments of his old core, a new one had coalesced. Silver and radiant, it pulsed with power that far exceeded his previous limits. Delirious as he’d been, Cade still felt the change in every fiber of his being—his senses sharper, his body stronger, his connection to the world's energy more profound than ever before.
Cade lifted a finger and conjured a tiny ember of flame to dance around it. It glowed red and silver, flittering like some tiny dragon through the chilly morning air. Silver rank. He was a silver ranker now. Sure, his core was only in the Early stage, but the power boost he already felt itching to be released was intoxicating. Cade could get used to this.
Now, as he lay on his bed and drifted off to sleep, he grinned with satisfaction.
He had the power he needed to do what had to be done.
He just prayed that it wouldn’t all go to shit within the first five minutes.
What's Cade's REAL motivation for pulling an all-nighter?
