Celeste's life is far from the enchanting fairy tale one might expect from a princess. Her father, a ruthless and self-absorbed king, leaves a trail of death and destruction in his wake. To seal alliances and maintain his power, he arranges for Cele...
'What is his plan?' I ask, a lump in my throat. I knew Christiaan was a scoundrel, but this information makes him a scoundrel with a motive. It makes him more dangerous, calculated, and extra deadly.
Micca looks at me intensely and replies in a deep voice, 'His plan is to kill Celeste. He believes her death is the ultimate revenge for his father's demise. With all Night Riders dead, he will have free rein over the lifelines.'
'Do you think he will murder the king once Celeste is dead?' Micca nods slowly.
'How do we get inside?' I ask without hesitation, grabbing the map from the table.
Rita, who has been silent until now, breaks the silence. 'The castle is heavily guarded by the sentries. We can't just storm in. The right flank is the sentries' training base, so we don't stand a chance there. The left flank is bordered by the river. We can't cross it without being shot at. The back is our best option, where the forest lies and is only guarded by the wall and towers.'
Kenit, the dark-haired wolf, nods in agreement. 'I have contacts within the sentries. I can try to create a diversion so that you can enter the castle unnoticed.'
'Why do you think Celeste is in the castle?' I look up in surprise. Alisha stands in the doorway in her white nightgown, draped with a blue cloak.
'How did you get in here?' I ask, astonished, as she walks towards us.
'Do you really think I didn't know where Celeste was going in the past weeks? Besides, your lock isn't magic-resistant.' Without a second's delay, she tosses a paper onto the middle of the table.
'The pigeons brought news.'
The poster bears an announcement in blood-red letters: 'The Last Night Rider.' Below is an image of a towering bonfire in a dark landscape. And in the center, surrounded by flames, is a female figure.
'Four days, we have four days,' Alisha emphasizes.
With a deep sigh, I let my face hang forward, my hands resting on the wooden table. Impossible, this is impossible.
'We will never make it there in three days,' Micca and Gwen shake their heads. Kiran, on the other hand, takes a step forward.
'Why did you ask why we think she is in the castle?' he asks Alisha.
'They would be idiots to put her in the castle. She knows the way. If she's somewhere around the castle, she's in the dungeons. It won't matter if we get there before the execution; we won't stand a chance. Infiltrating those dungeons is impossible.' Slowly, I realize the implications of what she's trying to say.
'Our only chance is the execution itself,' Micca concludes, slightly ahead of me. Alisha nods.
The room fills with tense silence. The gravity of the situation truly sinks in.
'Time for rum,' Micca mutters as he walks to a kitchen cabinet and opens the crooked door. Without grabbing a glass, he pulls out the cork from the half-full bottle and puts it to his lips. After taking a big gulp, he slams the bottle down in the middle of the table.
I'm next to grab the bottle from the table and let the sweet liquor disappear down my throat. The burning sensation alleviates the tension building up in my body.
'Alright, how are we going to do this?'
With determination and a mix of fear and hope in our eyes, we start forging our plans. Every detail is carefully considered, every possible setback analyzed.
The
maps are a godsend without which we couldn't have managed. The castle itself is a maze, but the tunnels and gardens are even worse. In every corner, a sentry house, tower, or spot can be found where a guard is supposed to be.
In recent years, the security has doubled. How Celeste and Nora managed to escape back then is now a suicide mission.
Elien is a new piece on the chessboard, making the situation even more challenging than it already is. Celeste will never kill him; there's no chance. If we kill Elien, Celeste will turn against us. Elien must stay alive.
During the hours-long discussion, it's Alisha who stands out the most to me. Her blue eyes seem fixated on Micca, and I can't find an explanation for it. Micca isn't ugly, but it's not an everyday behavior for Alisha to stare at a man because of his appearance.
As night falls, all plans for the morning and the coming days have been discussed. The rum bottle is empty, Micca has smoked a pouch of tobacco, and Gwen fell asleep on the couch hours ago.
I walk over to Alisha by the window, my almost-empty glass of rum in hand. Her blue eyes gaze out into the dark forest, and the now empty glass, once filled with water, hangs beside her body.
'No sleep for you tonight?' I ask as I stand beside her.
'I doubt it,' she sighs. Her left hand lifts the glass and swirls the last remaining drops around.
'Don't you trust the plan?'
'I'm not saying that.' Slowly, she turns to face me, her light blue eyes locking onto mine.
'I trust everyone's good intentions in this room, and together we stand even less of a chance than with them. But we're missing a lot of information, and that makes me wary. Do you know what Micca is? What powers does he have, and how strong are they? We know next to nothing about Elien, and even Celeste herself.'
The words take a moment to sink in. Indeed, we hardly know anything about the people in this room or Elien's powers. They seem to know everything about us, and we know nothing about them.
'What do you mean by Celeste?' I ask. Again, she spins the glass in her hand before looking straight at me. Doubt glimmers in her blue eyes before vanishing as quickly as it came.
'Dark magic has a price, we knew that. However, we didn't know how it would turn out and what it would bring. Do you know what kind of magic and powers Celeste possesses at the moment or what adverse effects it has? She hasn't uttered a word about it, no signs of pain, uncontrollability, or extra strength. We're just as clueless about her return to the castle and her intentions. Who are we actually trying to save, and is that person a friend, an acquaintance, or an enemy?'
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