Kael sat on the rooftop overlooking the Obsidian Spire, a hand-rolled cigarette dangling between his fingers. The air was thick with the scent of rain, the distant rumble of thunder warning of an approaching storm.

  Lyria crouched beside him, sharpening her daggers, her usual scowl deepening. “I still think this is the dumbest plan we’ve ever agreed to.”

  Kael smirked, taking a slow drag. “Not ever. That thing with the noble’s vault was worse.”

  “That was your fault.”

  “And it was fun.”

  Lyria rolled her eyes. “Phantom’s late.”

  Kael exhaled a cloud of smoke, watching the fortress below. “He’ll be here.”

  A shadow moved behind them.

  Phantom stepped out from the darkness, his silver eyes unreadable. “We have a problem.”

  Kael groaned. “We always have a problem.”

  Phantom tossed a parchment onto the rooftop. Kael picked it up, scanning the hastily scribbled words. His jaw tightened.

  Lyria peered over his shoulder. “A transfer order? They’re moving Elysia?”

  Phantom nodded. “Tomorrow night. To a more secure location outside the city.”

  Kael whistled. “Damn. We really don’t have time now.”

  Phantom’s voice was firm. “We go tonight.”

  Lyria’s eyes narrowed. “You said this place was a fortress.”

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  Phantom unfolded a small map. “It is. But I found a way in.”

  Phantom pointed to a drainage tunnel beneath the Spire. “The sewers connect to an old maintenance shaft. It leads directly to the lower levels.”

  Kael traced the layout with his finger. “That gets us in. How do we get out?”

  Phantom tapped a different section. “The prison levels have a supply elevator. It leads to a warehouse outside the main fortress walls.”

  Lyria folded her arms. “That’s a lot of ground to cover.”

  Kael cracked his knuckles. “Then we better move fast.”

  Phantom’s gaze was sharp. “We won’t get a second chance.”

  Lyria sighed. “I hate this.”

  Kael grinned. “Then let’s go commit treason.”

  The sewers were worse than Kael expected.

  The stench of rot and stagnant water clung to them as they moved through the tunnels. Phantom led the way, navigating the narrow passages with practiced ease.

  Lyria gagged. “I’m never forgiving you for this.”

  Kael smirked. “Come on, it’s not that bad.”

  A rat scurried over his boot.

  “Okay,” he admitted. “It’s pretty bad.”

  Phantom stopped at a rusted hatch. “This is it.”

  Kael tested the latch. “Locked.”

  Phantom pulled out a small device. A few quick twists, a faint click, and the hatch swung open.

  Kael grinned. “Handy.”

  Phantom didn’t respond. He simply gestured for them to move.

  The air inside the maintenance shaft was cooler, tinged with metal and oil.

  Kael crouched low, scanning the dimly lit corridor. “Where to?”

  Phantom pointed. “Prison levels. Elysia should be in the central chamber.”

  They moved quickly, staying in the shadows.

  The halls were eerily quiet—too quiet.

  Lyria’s grip on her daggers tightened. “I don’t like this.”

  Kael held up a hand, signaling them to stop.

  A pair of guards stood at the next junction, their backs turned.

  Kael smirked. “I got this.”

  Before Lyria could argue, he stepped forward, moving like a shadow.

  A swift strike to the first guard’s throat. A silent knife to the second’s ribs.

  Both men slumped without a sound.

  Kael wiped his blade clean. “Easy.”

  Lyria muttered, “Show-off.”

  They pressed forward.

  The cell door was reinforced steel, layered with runes.

  Phantom placed a hand on the lock, whispering something under his breath. The runes flickered, then died.

  Kael stepped inside.

  Elysia Draymore sat on a narrow cot, silver hair cascading over her shoulders.

  Her violet eyes locked onto his.

  Kael gave a lazy grin. “You ready to leave?”

  Elysia stood.

  And the air around her shook with power.