Now they sit cold, and there are no couples, no laughter, no sound.
“Yes, it does,” Jarek agrees softly.
We round the corner and come face-to-face with a guard.
I plaster on a smile, even as Pan plows into my back. “Good evening, guard.”
His expression doesn’t soften. “Who are you, and what are you doing in the royal garden?” he demands.
Jarek offers a stiff nod. “Lord and Lady Barwin from Eldford.”
“Never heard of it.”
“Not our problem you don’t know your way around Islor.”
I press my elbow into Jarek’s side in warning, but then cover the move by slipping a playful hand into his jacket, over his taut stomach. “It’s near the border with Kier.” And fictional, but Jarek swore these guards don’t know half the lordships on the map.
“In the east.” His eyes thin, and I sense we’ve said the wrong thing.
With lightning-quick speed, Jarek has drawn the merth dagger tucked under his sleeve and sliced it across the guard’s throat.
The guard drops, clutching his wound as blood pours. In seconds, he stills.
“Did you have to kill him?” I hiss.
“Yes.” Jarek wipes his blade on the guard’s pants before slipping it back into its sheath. “There was no reason for him to react like that or question us in this matter unless something is very wrong within these walls.” He heaves the body by the armpits, tucking the corpse as far under the cedar overhang as it will fit. “That will work for now, but not forever.”
“And when they find him? The gardens will be crawling with guards.”
“Then let us get moving.”
I sigh. One problem at a time, Zander always says. “Just get us to the tunnel in the hedge.” We continue along the path, tension gripping us. For once, Pan doesn’t need to be reminded to be silent.
Jarek guides us all the way to the edge of the hedge before he stalls, signaling us with a hand gesture to stay back as he surveys around the corner. He flashes an arched-brow I told you so look at me. “The grounds ahead are heavily guarded, especially around that tunnel. Much more than usual.”
I curse. Annika must have told Atticus. Did Gracen realize it was me she saw last night? And if so, did she tell him? Is that why they’re watching it so intently?
“I count four ahead, but there are likely more on the other side that I can’t see.” He draws a sword. “If this does not work, we will have a problem.”
“It’ll work.” It has to. “Pan, remember the plan.” We went over it for hours this afternoon.
“Aye.” He has adopted the legionaries’ lingo.
“Just like riding to Norcaster that night. Not a single word from you. Not a sound.” If I can duck past warriors while riding a horse, I can certainly do it now. “Stay close to me.”
I close my eyes as my adrenaline races, my affinities burning under my skin. I should have practiced this more. Then again, I’ve been using my cloaking ability in desperate situations for years without realizing it. It shouldn’t be an issue.
This is as desperate a situation as any.
“Get to the tunnel … get to the tunnel,” I chant in a whisper, reaching out to cling to Jarek’s arm and Pan’s shoulder, hoping that connection is enough to provide us the cover we need. I don’t have a manual for this special skill of mine.
“Now,” Jarek whispers, both hands gripping weapons.
As one, we head out along the path. Ahead, four guards pace in their stations. One is only ten feet away.
I ignore him and keep my thoughts and focus on only one goal—getting to that secret tunnel without notice—and as we pass them, taking the path that leads toward the castle.
I sense more guards in my peripherals—far more than I’ve ever seen guarding the castle—and my fingers dig into Jarek’s forearm as I try to calm myself.
He doesn’t so much as flinch.
Jarek waits until the sentry closest to us turns before he shifts the branches to the cedar hedge. We slide into the space between them and the wall until we’re safely in the tunnel.
My body sinks with relief.
The door Annika and I took that first night that leads to the castle’s undercroft is behind us. Jarek tests the handle before pushing it open and passing through. In moments, he returns and nods at Pan, a signal that it’s clear for him to go.
I squeeze Pan’s arm, a silent gesture to be careful. Between Jarek’s and my knowledge of the castle’s interior, we planned various routes to the stable where Silmar sleeps. I know the stable boy can be bought with gold, and Pan’s easy nature will get him talking.