“They’re not here!” one of them shouted, while the rest collected at the center of the hall. He paced down the opposite side he’d come, peering down it as if to see if the other soldiers had somehow passed us by, and then turned around to survey the gathered troops.
My eyes dashed across the hall to Rhien. She was poised with the vial over her head, prepared to throw it toward the group, but it looked like she was waiting for that last man to return. For him to get closer so she could be sure this would work. Only, he didn’t. He glared over his shoulder at the empty corridor, then again at the soldiers.
“Get upstairs,” he commanded, finally stomping back to the middle, “search the corridors and warn the others.”
Before the soldiers could leave position, Rhien lobbed the vial toward the center of the crowd. I held my breath as the glass shattered loudly, and in an instant the entire hall was filled with that black mist. The soldiers erupted in panic, choking on their shouts as they dropped unconscious one by one. It took long enough that my lungs started to burn, but I refrained from inhaling until the last one had fallen.
Then Rhien stepped forward, called, “Tuslypa,” and clapped her hands together and brushed them outward. The mist turned red and began to clear, but just before it did, Skif had fallen right to his face.
“Looks like he forgot to hold his breath,” Nira chuckled, and bear-Denig gave an amused snort.
“Can you wake him?” I asked Rhien while Ava and I met them on the opposite side of the hall.
Rhien nodded and squatted down near Skif’s head. “Awresi,” she whispered, snapping her fingers.
Skif’s eyes shot open, and then squeezed shut again as he realized what happened and groaned, “Ow.”
“She did warn you,” I laughed, watching him push off the ground.
Once he reached his feet, he bent over to put his hands on his knees, his head lolling tiredly. “Gods that’s heavy,” he mumbled. He shook the grogginess out and straightened once more, rubbing at the spot of his face he’d fallen on. “I’ve never been affected by magic before. Can’t say I’m keen on it.”
“We’ll move on when you’re ready,” I told him.
He waved it off with the hand that wasn’t rubbing his face. “I’m ready.”
At that, we turned toward the doors at the rear of the hall. Nira was the first to reach them, and she grabbed the handle and gave it a hard tug. It didn’t budge. She pulled harder, so forcefully that the door shook in its frame, but it wouldn’t come open. “Locked,” she complained, and in case Hazlitt was hiding on the other side, she kicked it. “Coward!” She sighed and turned to us. “Now what?”
“I could burn it down,” Skif suggested, rapping his knuckles against the thick wood.
“It would fill the castle with smoke,” Ava said, shaking her head, “alerting anyone upstairs who doesn’t know we’re here yet of our presence.”
Nira looked at me. “Could you use those gripping sparks of yours to twist it open?”
“The lock?” I asked. “Not a chance. If anything, I’d break it and we’d never get in.” But something else occurred to me. “Let me see,” I said.
I stepped up to the doors, setting my palm flat against the brass frame of the keyhole. In the stillness that followed as my companions watched silently, I closed my eyes and reached out with my magic, searching for something I couldn’t see, but may be able to feel. It took a minute, but then I did feel it—the corruption. There was corrosion deep in the inner workings of the lock. With that hold of my magic, I spread it through the metal, decaying it far beyond use and eating it through every piece of metal it touched, until even the brass frame had turned a sickly green and I could feel that it was falling apart. I gave the handle a wrench and the door broke free.
“Here we go,” I whispered, taking in a quick breath to maintain my nerve, because if Hazlitt was just beyond, then it was finally time. I pulled it open.
No sooner than I had, an arrow came flying out of the throne room, and it hit bear-Denig straight in the upper part of his chest. We all fell to the sides of the entrance to avoid being shot, but Denig let out a fury-filled roar and went blasting through. I peered around the corner of the doorframe to watch as he charged the single archer inside, taking one more arrow to the shoulder before crushing the man in his massive jaws. The rest of us rushed in, casting suspicious looks around as we paced to the far end where Denig was.
It was empty, and Rhien pointed at the man and asked, “What was he doing in here alone?”
“Hiding,” Nira said, turning a full circle to search the throne room.
There was nothing in here but the massive thrones and the decorations. There was nowhere to hide that we couldn’t see. Hazlitt wasn’t here. “He could be anywhere,” I muttered, my lips pursing angrily.
“What do you propose we do?” Skif asked, pulling the first arrow out of bear-Denig’s chest so he could heal. He reached for the second arrow while I considered our options, and Denig rumbled with pain when it was yanked free.
“There are two sides of this castle,” I thought out loud, “and there’s no telling which end he’s on.” They all nodded in understanding. “The faster we end this, the faster we end the war. I doubt Cornwall’s soldiers will keep fighting once Hazlitt’s dead. His own troops may surrender as well.”
There was a silent pause, and then Ava realized what I was thinking. “You want us to split up…”
“If we go three and three,” I explained, “we’ll find him faster. Denig and Skif may be just as well-equipped to handle him as I am.”
“I’m for it,” Skif said, and Denig huffed his agreement.
“I’ll go with them,” Nira volunteered, passing us a smile, “a gold coin says we find him first.”
“Joke’s on you,” I chuckled. “Can’t say I’ve ever had a gold coin.”
She laughed, and then paced forward and startled Ava with a fierce hug. “Be safe,” she said, moving on to embrace me, “all of you.” She hugged Rhien last and turned for the door, calling at Denig and Skif, “Come on, mountain boys, let’s hunt us a High King.”
They left and veered to the rightward corridor, and Ava, Rhien, and I headed into the opposite one without a word. As we traveled down the long lower hall of the castle, it was clear that Hazlitt hadn’t been a welcome guest upon his arrival. There were scattered bodies of Cornwall soldiers who’d fought his infiltration, as well as the occasional staff member that we saw hiding through an open door. One woman in the massive kitchen was crouching toward the rear of a brick oven, and all she did when she noticed that we’d seen her was sink farther behind it.
We journeyed to the very end, reaching the stairs without meeting a single live enemy. There wasn’t a soul on our way up either, and not until we reached the end of the steps did we finally see someone. I peered around at the top, at the hall that wrapped around the corner that the stairs opened upon, and caught a glimpse of two soldiers heading straight for us. I drew back, motioning Ava and Rhien down until we were hidden from view. The soldiers’ footsteps drew nearer, eventually echoing past the stairwell to continue around the corner to the left side, and I crept back up to get a good look at the corridors.
Those two that were patrolling weren’t the only soldiers on the floor. There were two more halfway down the right side that were standing in front of a door, two more across from them, and I could hear a handful of voices and a loud ruckus coming from an open door on the left. I crept back a bit until we were out of sight once more.
“There are two soldiers patrolling the halls,” I whispered to Ava and Rhien. “A number in one of the rooms, and four guarding a door.”