Chapter 33 – Vale
VALE
Istared out the brothel’s window, itching to take to the moonlit streets and storm the castle but forced to remain. To wait as the tafl pieces shifted into place.
Hours had passed since my father and Yrsa burst into the Balik’s breakfast room.
Hours we’d spent planning, studying the city of Grindavik, debating who should go on the mission to retrieve my mother.
Who should stay behind and be in charge of signaling.
Or potentially distracting soldiers that may come after us.
A map with circled safe locations around Grindavik hung heavy in my pocket.
We each had one. Fates willing we would not have to use them.
Hours in which the guild I’d done my best to suppress these last days had multiplied. I did not know if my claiming of the Riis name had put Mother in danger or if Rhistel had broken free first.
In the end, we’d decided two companies of five would sneak into the castle.
The problem lied in the fact that three in our group looked too vampiric, and the rest of us were too well-known throughout the kingdom.
Even Yrsa and her sisters, Geiravor and Sváva, three of the least-famous fae going on the mission, were very recognizable in their home city.
Known as the Terrors of Grindavik, each was red-haired, fiery-winged, and tall and curvy.
Caelo’s glamours were the answer to our issue, and though they delayed us further, I had to admit, he’d outdone himself.
I didn’t even recognize myself, let alone any of the others.
A light flashed ten rooftops away, and I held up a hand. “Sváva signaled.”
“Vidar did too.” Thyra lingered near a window on the other side of the office.
Shortly after Sayyida and Livia, the final two lookouts, gave their signals. The city guard was on the move, rotating.
Only Lord Riis was staying behind in his brothel office. We simply couldn’t afford to take a male riding such a wave of rage.
Thyra pulled her hood up, covering her newly glamoured violet hair. “See you by the dungeons, North Star.”
“Be safe, South Star,” Isolde replied, her attention grazing over Caelo, Freyia, Thantrel, Geiravor, and landing longest on her twin.
“You too,” Thyra smiled, and one by one the members of South Star left the office.
Our company waited five minutes before entering the streets of Grindavik. Yrsa took up position in front of me and Isolde. Astril and Qildor lagged a dozen paces behind. No one from the other company was anywhere in sight, having already blended into the crowds.
It took no time at all to see that Grindavik thrived on the darkness.
Fae of every order walked the streets. So close to the docks, this part of the city smelled of salt and fish.
Stallkeeps hawked wares, and the scents of many restaurants filled the air in crevices left by the perfumes worn by fae of the night.
If Avaldenn had a good number of brothels, it was nothing to what Grindavik boasted.
No matter how their high lady felt about such establishments, sailors were known to love a brothel or two.
Not only did the sheer number of sex workers surprise me, the varied and extravagant themes of the brothels did as well.
Yrsa and Geiravor had warned us that we’d see oddities, and they were right.
The fae of the night costumed as wolves, dragons, or vampires were shocking, indeed.
“The vampires in Sangrael would be furious if they saw this,” Isolde whispered as we passed one such brothel where the prostitutes stood outside, dressed in scandalous attire, blood dripping down their faces. “The vampires in the capitol would never wear such things. Not in public anyway.”
My eyes crinkled at the corners, but my heart didn’t fall into the lightness she attempted to create. I couldn’t afford to. Not when we—some of the most wanted fae in Winter’s Realm—were about to infiltrate a castle and extract a fae who was sure to be under heavy guard.
Smooth as the silk the fae of the night wore, we wove through the streets, drawing ever closer to the castle.
As the towers grew, the figures walking the wall came into sharper focus.
Just when I thought it would be a straight shot down one road, Yrsa banked right.
We followed, pivoting into an alley. Our leader paused halfway down.
“We’ll continue that way.” Yrsa gestured to the mouth of the alley. “The other team will have gone left. But before we get too close, I have to let you know, there are many more guards on duty than I’ve ever seen.”
“We predicted that,” I said. “The king would demand a heavy guard. Mother can be very persuasive.”
She could command anyone to do whatever she wished, and if there was the slightest chance, she would free herself. So the king would put as many obstacles as possible in place to stop her from going far.
“Not one or two more,” Yrsa retorted. “Dozens. It feels like a trap.”
It was as though ice swept over us; everyone became so still. Stiff.
Qildor cleared his throat. “King Magnus is fond of playing games.”
Yes, he was. How I had not thought of it before was beyond comprehension. Worry for my mother and those on the mission had blinded me.
“It might be,” I allowed, “but the plan is in motion, South Star is likely closing in at the gates.” They would arrive ahead of us, but had a longer way to travel on the castle grounds. If all worked as planned, we’d converge upon the dungeons at around the same time. “We can’t let them down.”
“Agreed,” Isolde said. “Remain alert. And Astril, if necessary, be prepared to perform more compulsion than we planned for.”
Compulsion had never sat right with me. Likely because Rhistel and Mother’s magics were so similar to a vampire’s compulsion.
I had spent many turns as Rhistel’s practice subject and despised each occurrence, all the while understanding why it had to be me.
No one outside our family could have known, or I’d lose my twin.
Little did I know, I would lose him anyway.
That life and our views would tear us apart.
And while I may not like the idea of fae being compelled by vampires, in this instance, I’d allow it.
Fates, I might end up wishing that Astril could hold sway over the hundreds of fae we might come across.
But no vampire was so powerful. Like whisperers had a limit to the number of people they controlled, so too did vampires.
The castle continued to grow more imposing, and I watched the walls, noting the large faelights and a series of mirrors running along the top.
They wouldn’t be used to shine upon the street, but into the sky, and immediately, I understood why.
It was far warmer than it had been in many turns, so fae flew more freely.
That meant the airspace around the castle was also being monitored more heavily.
Finally, we reached the portion of the castle wall that was covered in silver ivy.
Yrsa, Geiravor, and Sváva had spent half their lives discovering the secrets of the city, using the knowledge to their benefit. According to Yrsa, they had known about this weakness in the castle wall since they were thirteen but never had a reason to use it. Until tonight.
“Make yourselves as inconspicuous as possible. Vale, muffle the sound.” Yrsa pulled two thin metal rods with flat ends from her black woolen cloak and, after pulsing her magic into the ivy to negate its effects, she plunged the rods into the vegetation.
I created a barrier of air around us and the wall, hoping to muffle any sound that could give us away. Then we leaned back into the wall to wait and keep on the lookout.
This side of the castle was less trafficked, thanks to a tanner’s shop located on the street.
The smell of tanning elixirs was too much for sensitive fae noses to tolerate, and that included guards on the wall.
Between the undesirable effects of silver ivy and the stench, it seemed the Ithamais believed no one would try to enter their grounds this way.
They were probably right, and yet, there was no guarantee that no one would walk this way and sound the alarm.
Yrsa grinned when she found the lock hidden deep within the ivy. The sound of metal hitting metal filled the night before a soft click hit my ears.
“Two more.” Yrsa smirked. “Give me thirty seconds.”
She managed to break open the lock in fifteen.
“Your mother taught you well,” Qildor muttered.
I got the sense that my honorable friend was struggling not to be impressed.
“Better than soaring over the wall and attracting attention.” Yrsa pulled the hidden gate open.
The door opened just enough for us to push the ivy to the side and slip through, but before we did so, Yrsa shoved another wave of her power outward.
Few plants possessed true magic of their own like silver ivy.
To touch it caused severe pain and itching rashes that only healers could calm, which had to be part of the reason no one had ripped it out by the root.
No one in their right mind would touch silver ivy unless they had to, but Yrsa’s magic was identical to her father’s and disabled other powers.
Fae, animals, and, though I’d never known this of Lord Riis’s magic, plants too.
For a short while, the ivy would be inert, allowing us easy passage onto the grounds.
“Safe,” Yrsa whispered.
I eased forward to take the front position, with Astril right behind.
Working together, we set to beating back the silver ivy and passed through the ancient gate.
When I reached the other side, I remained tucked within the ivy and scanned the area.
One soldier to the left, about twenty paces away. Another to the right, thirty paces.
“You go right.” I caught Astril’s eyes, knowing she’d cover that ground before I’d made it halfway to my target. “Qildor and I have the left.”
“Let me check.”
I moved to the side. As the vampire used her superior vision and scent, Qildor moved into position next to me.
It took the Valkyrja only a moment, and she nodded. “I can’t scent anyone else in the area. Let’s go.”
She rushed out first, blurring for the guard as I sent my magic at the other to seal him within a barrier of air.
At my power’s touch, he shouted, but it was too late.
Not a whisper of sound emerged from the tomb of air I’d placed him in.
If I was feeling violent, I could eliminate all threats and rip the air from his lungs.
But killing wasn’t the aim. Silencing was. And we’d come prepared.
Qildor and I rushed over. I gave the signal, and Qildor raised an arm. As the air barrier vanished, my friend’s fist came down, knocking the guard out.
I pulled a small vial, supplied by the Balik’s healers, from my cloak pocket and pressed it to his lips. “Bottoms up.”
The liquid vanished down the guard’s throat, ensuring hours of silence. I grabbed the soldier’s hands, and Qildor took his feet. Together, we shoved him lengthwise into the shadow of the wall, just as Astril had with the other guard.
Could we possibly have found a better spot? Perhaps, but this area seemed quiet and dark, and we had to work quickly. The goal was to be in and out of the castle by the time the next guard rotation occurred.
Isolde and Yrsa appeared on my side, and Yrsa gave a nod. “Follow me.”
We rushed across the castle grounds as vast as those surrounding Frostveil. Perhaps larger. And like in my former home, pockets of gardens covered the grounds.
At Frostveil, the gardens had been planted and many of them painstakingly cultivated at Saga’s pleasure. Was it Lady Vaeri Ithamai that we had to thank for the occasional cover? If so, she’d be hearing no thanks from me.
We were making our way through a garden with towering hedges when we came upon a brownie, taller than most of her kind, and twice as hairy.
Her body went rigid as she took us in. The darkness helped cloak us, but we weren’t in the deep purple tunic trimmed with white that servants wore.
Nor were we in guard clothing, but nondescript black cloaks. We did not fit in.
“Who are you?” the brownie asked, her voice high and tight.
Astril’s nostrils widened as she breathed in. “She’s terrified.”
“Not a soldier. Do not harm,” I whispered back, not so sure that Astril and I shared the same moral code.
“Still a threat,” the vampire hissed back.
“If you don’t stop whispering over there and answer me, I’ll yell. The guard is on high alert with the king in residence.”
Taking control in a way I wished she would not, Isolde held up her hands and stepped forward. “We’re sorry that we startled you. We’re visitors.”
“Armed visitors? That’s odd, considering my high lady requires her guests to be unarmed in her home. She takes very few exceptions.”
Lady Ithamai was not just a stickler for the law; she was paranoid.
“Enough of this.” Astril blurred forward and stopped before the brownie. “Go back to work. Say nothing of this.”
“After we enter the castle though,” Yrsa added. “We don’t need her walking into the servant quarters with us.”
“Wait twenty minutes before you return inside,” Astril amended her command before turning to us. “We should move.”
And we did. Through two more pocket gardens, all the way to the entrance that Yrsa claimed was close to both the servants’ sleeping quarters and the castle’s laundry facility. We were met with a locked door.
“These are harder to pick open.” Yrsa knocked loudly at the door. “If no one answers, I’ll try it, but as a last resort.”
“I forgot my key!” she shouted, switching up her accent so that it was thicker, more similar to that of the Grindavik dockhands and not a female who, despite all the troubles she’d caused her mother, had attended the best schools in the city on Lord Riis’s coin.
It took only a minute of knocking before I caught the sound of footsteps, heavy and weary, coming our way.
“Is that you, Strel?”
Yrsa giggled as though the male caught her doing something embarrassing, allowing him to fill in his own blanks. “Sorry if I woke you!”
“Twice in as many weeks, girl. We’re going to tie that key to your wrist.” A chuckle came, and the lock inside clicked out of place.
A male dwarf opened the door and had enough time to see that Yrsa was not, in fact, Strel, before Astril grabbed him by the shirt and yanked him up until they were eye to eye.
“You didn’t see us. You saw Strel. Return to your room and remain there until morning,” Astril said.
“Right,” the dwarf replied, his tone a touch looser. “Night then.” He turned and returned the way he had come, leaving the corridor wide open.
One by one, we crossed the threshold into the enemy castle.