The Way We Fall

Chapter 7 (Roche)

Roche stayed awake for a long time that night. Eventually, her eyes drifted shut, and she dozed off. Unfortunately, she was awoken a few moments later by a familiar sound. Her eyes popped open as her inkblood roared within her again, jolting her upright in her bed. She didn't hear a voice this time, but she was wide awake. As if her inkblood had woken her.

She heard footsteps faintly in the distance.

"Verita?" Roche whispered, "Is that you?"

She didn't hear anything in return. Just those footsteps, getting further and further away. Roche slipped out of bed in nothing but her nightdress. Her door creaked slightly as she opened it, revealing the main quarters. Verita remained in her cot, snoring loudly. The footsteps were coming from the library. Roche frowned. Verita had asked her to lock the doors to the library that night. If she'd forgotten and someone had slipped in, she'd have hell to pay in the morning. Roche pulled open the door and tiptoed out, lit candle in hand. The library was pitch black. If not for the candle, Roche wouldn't be able to see at all. Slowly, she made her way to the library door. She frowned at it, holding the candle close.

The lock was intact and firmly locked. Roche's blood went cold. How did someone get in?

She whirled around, hearing footsteps rounding the nearest shelves. She could see the light of another candle approaching. Her heart launched in her throat. Roche pinched the wick of the candle, smothering the flame as she padded towards the shelves.

"See, I told you! No one's there!" one voice insisted. It was feminine and airy. Roche carefully peeked around her shelf. She could see two figures wearing maroon cloaks that trailed across the ground behind them like blood. The second figure shrugged.

"Better safe than sorry. Now hush and come on! We're going to be late."

The voices were unfamiliar. Roche crept after them as they began heading through the library. She didn't recognize the wing they were headed for, but it was old, older than any other part of the library. Eventually, they stopped in front of a simple, crumbling wall that looked like it had stood for centuries. There was a bracket on the wall upon which the first figure placed her torch. Roche watched them stand under the flaming torch in silence. She was ready to go back to bed and dismiss this whole encounter as the most boring dream ever when a new voice whispered,

"Have the preparations been put in place?"

The voice was slithery and serpentine, giving Roche a chill. The new figure seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. Roche's inkblood roared in warning.

"Yes, my lord." the female replied, bowing her cloaked head. "All will be done soon."

"And do the royals have any inkling of what is to come?"

"No, my lord. We've executed everything perfectly. Within a month, it will be done."

Whatever this meeting was, it didn't seem good.

"RUN!" her inkblood warned again. The scratching returned in the wall right next to Roche's ear. She flinched back, her elbow slamming into the shelf she was hiding behind. The cloaked figures fell silent. Roche froze, hearing their footsteps approach. One her hands and feet, she scuttled backwards like a crab, darting behind another shelf just as she glimpsed a cloaked figure rounding the bend. Roche scrambled to her feet before the cloaked figure could round behind the new shelf she was hiding behind. She raced back towards Verita's chambers, slick with sweat.

She laid in her bed, her thoughts racing. Eventually, the adrenaline wore off and Roche descended into a fitful sleep. When she awoke, she barely remembered the encounter at all.