Return of the Stormcriers

CHAPTER 24 - THE NIGHT BEFORE

  As it had been for so many nights recently, sleep refused to come easy for Matt. He lay flat out on his back, thoughts crashing through his mind like unending breakers against craggy shores. Visions of his family flashed behind his eyes, killed again and again, more horrifically each time. The silver pendant dangled persistently through all of his thoughts, taunting him with questions about his father. Cursing softly to himself so as not to wake Will and Anthony he sat up in bed, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. How could they sleep so soundly, seemingly unaffected by the Dukes' obvious worry at the very real possibility that they could all die in their pursuit of the assassin. Pulling the pendant out from the collar of his shirt he turned it over in his hand, inspecting it for the thousandth time.

What did you mean to my father?

  A second thought struck him; if he wanted to interrogate Hal for information about the dagger and the Order, tonight could be his final opportunity. He shook his head at the foolishness of his idea; he had just begun to earn the trust of the resistance, if they caught him secretly convening with the most wanted man in Verden he would immediately lose all that trust, quite possibly permanently. Leaning out to his right, he quickly rummaged through his bag that sat propped upright beside his bed, retrieving the dagger from where he had left it hidden beneath his spare clothes. Unlike the day before no whispers pulled at his hearing when his hands clutched the blade. Quietly, so as not to disturb his friends, Matt glided out of his bed and crept softly out the door, closing it slowly behind him as he tucked the dagger into the waistband of his pants, pulling his shirt down over the top of the hilt.

  Holding his breath in anticipation as he opened the outer door, he scanned his surroundings for any guards watching their room as there had been the night before, but there were none to be found. The halls of the manor which bustled with activity throughout the day were nearly desolate at night. Flickering torchlight and the odd magic color lights lit the interior of the manor, casting shadows across the faces of the few people who wandered at this hour. He held his breath the first several times he passed a fellow wanderer, waiting for them to ask where he was headed at such an hour, or worse still, to yell that he was not supposed to be out of his room this late at night. To his immense relief, his presence did not even garner a second glance from anyone he passed, and slowly he began to walk with more confidence, he belonged here, there was no reason to second guess himself.

  Opening the door to the long spiraling staircase that led to the dungeons below he began the descent down towards Hal's cell. The floating lights sat just the same as the day before, lighting his way so that he did not trip and break his neck down the stairs. Curiosity overcame him as he stared at the glowing orbs of energy; he reached out a hand, carefully extending a finger to touch the strange magic. To his surprise, as bright as the light was it held very little heat, only just barely warming the tip of his finger. A tingle ran up his arm, a slight vibration that began where his body contacted the light; not uncomfortable, but strange, as if he had just touched one of the electrical sparks that he himself could conjure. The sensation continued only briefly after he withdrew his touch, the feeling in his arm quickly returning to normal. For the hundredth time he resolved to ask Will more about magic as soon as he had the chance; the idea of it seemed so similar to his stormcrier abilities, yet strangely different as if looking through a twisted mirror.

  He continued his way down the steps at a faster rate, impatient now to reach the bottom. Unlike the day before there were no guards standing at the bottom landing to greet him. The Dukes must have removed the guards after they accepted Hal's offer. A seed of doubt sprouted in his chest, what if Hal wasn't even down in the dungeons anymore? They could have given him his own private room now that he was officially on the side of the resistance. Praying that the heavy wooden door was unlocked he tentatively reached forward, gingerly testing the handle for movement. To his immense relief the door swung open without resistance, revealing the corridor of cells.