Chapter Thirty-Seven
The closer I got to the towering wall surrounding the encampment, the more difficult it became to hold on to my shadow form. I had the wall up ahead to thank for that.
Once I was close enough to make out the largest of the odd alychite spikes poking out from the structure, my zirilium gave out completely.
I could feel the moment it became blocked—like a flame flickering, then being smothered.
I came to a stumbling stop as I was thrown back into my physical body, barely catching myself before I face planted, as I had been barreling forward at full speed.
Walking for some of the way, I followed the flow of the wall from the edges of the forest, heading toward the largest of the watchtowers up ahead.
The same one from before that Matea and I had discovered was much easier to wield our zirilium around.
With the sun nearing the horizon and soon to rise, I broke into an all-out run.
I knew patrols and guards were hidden within the forest, though I also knew I didn’t need to worry about them.
The Valwain and army had that covered.
I was grateful I’d already had Byn help me ink my wings so that they blended in with my dark outfit, the dim sky overhead helping me to blend into the darkness of the forest still.
I’d also tucked my blinding white hair into a charcoal-colored cap with a cloth concealing the lower half of my face—both being similar to the kinds I’d often seen some guards and soldiers of the North wearing.
They’d don attire like this mostly during winter, but we were willing to risk it.
I should still blend in enough to get by.
Plus, the face covering helped to negate the smell threatening to overpower my senses.
A few moments later, I was approaching the watchtower.
I’d passed multiple other, smaller watchtowers on the way, but the one up ahead of me then was different.
Last time we were here, we’d figured out the specific structure up ahead had significantly less of the alychite shards poking out of the wall in favor of having large structural supports. With the supports in the way, there hadn’t been room for hardly any of the metal in that area.
Which gave me the perfect opening.
As I got within range of the wide stretch of stone that made up the watchtower—no alychite in the area—I could feel my zirilium spark back to life within me, the stones on my gloves buzzing with energy once again.
I could tell it wasn’t at full power simply because of my proximity to the insane amount of alychite there at the encampment, but it would have to be enough.
With access to my abilities again, I slipped into my shadow state, using the shadows of the watchtower to tether myself to. It flowed easily, as if even the shadows knew I was there to help. As if they, too, couldn’t stand the horrors going on behind these walls.
I slid up the shadow cast by one of the structural supports until I reached an open side window. I knew if I were in my physical form, my heart would be pounding—but there in the darkness, I was confident I was safe.
That feeling of security faded swiftly, though, as the sun finally peeked over the horizon.
Then, as I curled myself into a dark corner of the tower and the sun shone through the open window, the wingbeats began. There was a countless amount of them—all I knew was that the noise blocked out all other sounds.
They were heading into the forest beyond the wall to relieve the night shift.
The night shift that, if all had gone to plan, had already been incapacitated by the Southerners hiding out in the top of the trees.
Our scouts had noted that more Northerners scattered the forest than the first time we had visited, letting us know they were expecting us. Fortunately for us, they still weren’t aware of exactly what they were facing.
And as the wingbeats quieted down, having flown out to wherever their assigned position was, I wound myself down the staircase, checking each floor and finding them all empty.
It seemed that by sending out so many to monitor the forest, they hadn’t planned on keeping an eye on what they held within.
Their mistake, I thought as I made it to the bottom floor.
After ensuring there was nobody else around, I stepped out of the shadows I’d wielded to get me that far.
I quickly double checked everything was in place—my wings were a solid, dark gray, my hair was hidden in my cap, and even my boots had large enough soles to add to my height.
Only males were to serve as guards and soldiers in the North, so the extra height would help me blend in, too.
Elaera—my sword that Dimitri had gifted me as young teenagers—was strapped to my back, the silvery hilt blending in with those common in the North.
Though, I felt I was missing something.
Looking around, I caught sight of a black jacket hanging by the door. I rushed to grab and don it, finding that it fit surprisingly well. The male it belonged to must have also been small in stature.
There was a family name embroidered over my heart—Brewick.
Deciding that would have to be enough, I headed for the door, stepping out into the early morning sunlight—and into the encampment.
Keeping my head down, I set off at a leisurely pace around the inside perimeter of the wall.
I clinched my teeth as I left the safety of the giant watchtower and its lack of alychite.
My zirilium quickly faded from my senses as I made it past the edges of the watchtower.
There seemed to be even more of the spikes on the inside of the wall than there had been outside, forcing my zirilium somewhere so far into myself that I couldn’t access it.
My goal now was to find the weakest point on the east side of the wall that I could.
And bring it down.
The watchtower I’d entered through was on the south side, so as I slowly shifted directions while following the edges of the wall, I kept my eyes peeled.
I checked out the support and structure—and the gaps in between—of the wall as I walked, noting every detail, but still not finding exactly what I was seeking.
Just as I was about to pick up my pace, the door of the small watchtower I’d just passed swung open.
“Hey! Where do you think you’re off to, soldier?”
I froze in place, taking deep, calm breaths as I turned on my heels to face the male.
Peering up at him from under my cap, he appeared older, his hair graying at his temples and wrinkles setting in on his face.
His wings were a deep brown, and he wore the usual dark attire of the Northern army—except that he wore a broach with the Heartshire family crest on it.
Being the symbol of the North as a whole, those who wore the crest were only those who had earned it.
That meant the male before me was likely an army captain—a lieutenant, at the least.
“Did you not hear me clearly? Why aren’t you with the others?” The male took a threatening step forward, the door he’d come through still wide open behind him.
I had options, ones that I ran through as quickly as I could. I could try to answer him, but my voice alone would give me away as a female, and my cover would be blown. If I tried to rush him and attack now, with the distance between us, he’d have enough time to fly away or call for help.
So, it looked like it was time for a little acting.
I took a loud breath, as though I was going to answer, then forced myself into a coughing fit.
I doubled over, hiding my face further and my eyes that could give me away.
I knew the type of males my father would appoint as higher ups in his army—those that were ruthless and cold-hearted—and I doubted my twin had gone back on any of our father’s decisions.
And I could use that knowledge to my advantage.
I stumbled forward, still coughing and taking heaving gulps of air into my lungs.
“Something wrong with you, fledgling?” the male asked, using the term fledgling in a demeaning way—a way to display my younger age and his superiority.
As I gasped for breath, I leaned against the wall of the watchtower next to us. Fortunately, I’d stumbled forward just far enough to accomplish what I had in mind.
“Alright, enough of this,” he said, advancing on what appeared to him as my compromised form. When his boots came into my line of sight, I knew he was close enough.
In an instant, I shot upright and used his own momentum to push him toward the open door, throwing all of my weight and might into the move. The male, being caught so off guard, stumbled further, allowing me to shove him again—even harder than the first time—straight inside of the watchtower.
I swiftly shut the door behind us, wishing to the Stars above that nobody had seen or heard us.
“What is happening here?” he demanded, finally righting himself.
I lifted my head to meet his gaze as I answered, “Justice.”
With that word alone, his eyes widened and his mouth parted in an effort to call out. For who, I wasn’t sure, because before he could utter a word, I was on him.
I pounced, forcefully kneeing him between the legs with as much strength as I could muster.
A squeaking sound was the only noise that left his mouth as he fell to his knees.
With his upper body now lower and therefore easier for me to reach, I quickly grabbed toward the front and back of his head, shifting to bring his temple down onto my knee with all of my might in the same movement.
The male fell to the ground, out cold from the sudden knock to his head. Forcing air into my lungs so I could remain concentrated, I did a fast sweep of the floor of the watchtower we were on, searching.
“Perfect,” I said under my breath as I found a rope in a large chest of other tools and weapons.