Trynne watched a smaller fellow grab the fallen staff of the guard she’d just injured. He gave her a grateful nod; after nodding back, she fled down the path.
The corridor was lit with fluttering torches and lined with tapestries, which made shadows wriggle and dance on the walls. She heard the sound of bootsteps rushing up a set of stairs and hurried to follow, feeling her heart thrum with excitement in her chest. The corridor took a sharp turn ahead, and she reached out with her magic to search for any obstacles. She sensed a bar had been fixed to the wall, about chest level, meant to surprise and harm someone running recklessly. Prepared to meet the challenge, Trynne ducked as she went around the bend, keeping her staff parallel to the floor. She dodged the bar easily, not losing her stride, and rounded another corner, where she found a cramped stairwell leading up to one of the manor towers. The sound of a slamming door came from above.
Trynne could hear the sound of boots from behind her as well, so she hastened up the stairs, taking them two at a time. She was grateful for her training with Captain Staeli. Her endurance was more than a match for the challenges she’d faced so far. When she reached the top of the stairs, there was a heavy iron door blocking the way. She remembered hearing it slam, which seemed odd until she noticed the pulley mechanism next to it, tied to heavy sandbags positioned above. Blinking quickly, she deduced that opening the door triggered the trap that would apply sudden pressure to the door. That meant there was something dangerous on the other side. Reaching out with her magic, she sensed that the tower led outside in a precipitous drop. She realized the drop below led to the moat.
Every use of her power diminished it, and she felt the edges of it shrinking, which made her stomach quiver with worry. What if it ran out when she needed it most? But there was no time to fret. The person coming up behind her would reach the landing soon, so Trynne heaved on the door. As she wrenched it open, she felt the wind and saw two torches hanging from sconces on the wall, the flames hissing in her face as they were drawn in by the wind. The moat was indeed below. Did that mean she needed to swim? Her eyes caught two iron bars extending down from just above the door, almost like rails that went down at an angle. She couldn’t see the moat in the darkness of night, but she could smell it, and she heard someone splashing in the water below.
Then she understood. She could place the staff over the bars and then hang on to it as she went down. She couldn’t see where she was going or how steep it was, but it was better than—
Click.
The trap released the sandbag and the door closed behind her, shoving her out of the tower. She managed to reach out and grab one of the bars with her left hand and dangled from it over the dark pool below. Gritting her teeth, she swung the staff up and over the bars, then quickly snatched it with her other hand. Suddenly, she was gliding downward along the poles. Her stomach thrilled with the feeling of flying, but she couldn’t see where she would land. There was a lawn on the other side of the moat, lit with braziers and sputtering torches that began to loom ahead. The ironwork rods she glided down eventually came to an end on the lawn.
As she hurtled downward at an accelerating pace, she saw the iron poles curled into circles at the ends and were attached to two wrought-iron columns at the end of the lawn. The circles were designed to absorb her momentum, she realized, and when she hit them, her body swung up and around once in a full circle. She dropped to the grass gracefully, just as someone spluttered in the water behind her. Turning, she saw the man with the wounded forehead trying to climb up onto the stone, looking tired and worn out from the swim with the staff. He glared at her as he swung up his legs.
Trynne pulled her staff out of the rings and raced ahead. There was a series of stone obstacles she needed to evade to cross the remainder of the lawn. Some were benches of varying heights. Some were pedestals. A tall wall loomed at the end, about twice the height of a man. She blinked quickly, trying to discern a pattern in the debris. Fallon was scrambling to get up the wall, but as high as he jumped, he could not reach the top edge. It would be impossible for her, for she was much shorter than him. He stepped back, tossed his staff up and over the wall like a javelin, and started shimmying up two of the pillars, which were close enough to provide him with leverage. Trynne started through the maze, jumping over one obstacle, darting past another. By the time she reached the pillars, Fallon had managed to fall forward and catch the lip of the wall. He pulled himself grunting up to the top.
She started up next, mimicking his movement by throwing the staff over it first. She then jammed her hands and feet against one of the pillars, pushing herself up the other. The other man arrived as she reached the top of the pillars. Trynne fell forward and barely managed to catch the edge of the wall. She felt a hand grope at her boot and realized the man below was trying to grab her and pull her down. She brought up her knees and heard his hand slap on the stone. It infuriated her that he was cheating!