Alnwick Chronicles

Fifteen

Adalyn

A look of alarmed shock encompasses Aerith's face. "Where?" she asks in a dangerously low voice.

"Marlow."

She doesn't reply to that. Instead, her jaw clenches and she gets a faraway look in her eyes, which have turned into two pools of blazing green fire. Oh no.

I try to change the topic. Thankfully Michael left a couple minutes ago, so I can bring up something I only trust my sister's ears to listen.

In a bare whisper, I begin, "So I was reading old newspapers and books while you were gone, and I found some... interesting things."

That makes her snap her gaze back towards mine. "Go on."

"You know Lyton never had a proper funeral? That is so weird and the reason is even weirder." Aerith's eyebrows shoot up. I continue, "It's because his body and supposedly decapitated head were never found."

"What?!"

"It's true. The official records state that his body was burnt at a pyre, but eye-witnesses have a different story. According to them, the only ceremony to be conducted was a candle-lighting in remembrance."

"Remembrance of a tyrant?!"

"Apparently," I shrug. "That's not the only thing that doesn't add up. There are so many different versions of so many different things and events that it's hard to separate facts from fiction."

"She probably crafted most of the stories, you know. Muriel. Stretched the truth or in some cases, erased it altogether, to keep her hold on Alnwick." We've been here long enough to be familiar with most of the Queen's mishaps. At least the ones that have left behind some sort of proof, anyway. At this point, you could blame her for the worst, most gravest crime in human history and we'd just nod our heads and say, "Could be."

Just then, Michael rushes back into the hospital tent and makes his way over to us. "Guys," he says breathlessly. "They've found Heath."

A wave of annoyance courses through me. Heath's the idiot whose idiotic mistakes have landed Aerith in the condition she's in. And I'm pretty sure they're going to carry out a full-blown operation to get him back from wherever he's being held right now. If I were in charge, I'd just leave and forget him. Use time and resources on something more worthwhile.

But I'm not in charge. And the ones who are have decided, as expected, to rescue him from the depths of the dungeons in Marlow, according to Michael.

And I'm a part of the team. Not by choice, of course.

I convince Aerith not to come with us, insisting she needs rest. She protests, but settles back down when one shake of her head sends what I imagine to be a sharp jolt of pain through her skull.

Leaving her there, I set off with Michael to meet the other members of our squad.

***

There are going to be five of us. Besides Michael and I are Derwin, who's the leader, and two girls named Hallie and Eden. The actual rescue is to take place at midnight, but we need to get to Marlow first. Derwin briefs us on all the details of the plan.

We set off on foot. Through Woodvale, it will take us about an hour to get to the north-west side of the ringwall, which we're going to scale the old-fashioned way: with ropes and hooks.

The reason we're going on foot is because for all their grandeur, the Aberrants do not have any transport vehicles. The only way of obtaining one is seizing it on the road, and there is no way it can be done without any collateral damage. And unlike the Queen and Cold Hollow, the Aberrants take collateral damage very seriously.

I made sure to tell Aerith all about the operation before leaving. I've seen how mad she can get when she's not brought in on information. Like when she found out about Skyla.

We reach the ringwall. It must be about 20 to 25 feet in height, and made of whitish-grey granite. I try to gulp down the apprehension that has started creeping up inside me, and throw my grappling hook over the wall.

It gets wedged into a crevice, and after tugging at the rope to make sure it's secure, I begin my climb. About halfway up, I feel my muscles starting to ache. I glance towards the others, who are all at different heights. If any of them is struggling too, they don't show it.

Just get through it, I tell myself as I grit my teeth and continue upwards.

After what seems like hours, I finally reach the top. Now for the easier part: rappelling down. Aerith would have loved this.

When my feet touch the ground, I stop to catch my breath but the others don't wait for even a second before sprinting off towards the right, gambling on the moonless night to hide them. With an internal groan, I follow.

Skyla

We creep on tiptoes down the out-of-service servants' staircase. I haven't asked mom how she got the key to the stairway door. Then again, I haven't asked her a lot of things. Including how she knows the layout of the castle dungeons without having gone there even once. I'll ask her once we're done here.

Nathaniel came with us. Jeanne didn't want to bring him along initially, but I insisted because I'm scared out of my wits and having another person around makes me feel slightly better. Laura was told to go back to the Aberrant Headquarters and inform a senior about everything, just in case we need backup.

It gets darker and colder the further down we go. There are holds for flame-torches at varied distances along both walls, rusted and dusty from unuse. It all looks very haunted.

At the very bottom, the stairway is closed off by a wooden door covered with green fungus. Mom takes out a key from her pocket and inserts it into the keyhole. Then she turns and makes eye contact with both Nathaniel and I, as if asking, "You ready?"

I take a deep breath and nod.

"Remember the plan," she mouths before pivoting to face the door again and turning the key sharply in it. It swings open.

We all have a weapon in our hands as we rush in with adrenaline-fueled bodies. The door leads to, as expected, a corridor full of empty cells. It looks pretty much the same as the staircase we just came through, except the flame-torches are actually lit. Mom chose this particular spot as empty cells meant security would be least here.

And she's right. There are only two guards here, stationed near the far end of the passageway. Mom and Nathaniel take care of one each. I try not to look at their bodies as we pass them.

At the end of the corridor is an intersection. Mom motions for us to go right, but freezes when we hear sounds of footsteps approaching. She pushes herself against a patch of wall between two cells on the right, grabbing me alongwith. Nathaniel follows suit.

I hold my breath as we hear the footsteps recede. Then we relax.

Suddenly, I hear a raspy voice whisper from inside the cell behind me, "Skyla?!"