The Rogue Guardian

Chapter 66: The Fortress Heist part 2

The moment the guards chasing me had all run past the window, I pulled myself back up to the sill and swung my legs over and inside. I was breathless and ecstatic and feeling very clever with myself, with good reason. I'd drawn most of the guards to the upper floor, leaving Joshua and Tori free to make their way to the fortress's cells and break out the rebels. So far there hadn't been a single hitch in the plan.

I took the three steps to the bottom of the curving stairs in one jump and promptly crashed into a guard.

Well shit.

Their arms locked around me and I forced myself to stifle my cursing as I struggled against them, trying to unpin my arms so I could wrestle to my feet, except... it kind of felt like they were hugging me.

Actually, that's exactly what it felt like. I stopped moving to pay attention to what I had assumed before were screeches of victory as my captor shook me back and forth in excitement.

"Morie, what are you doing here?" She was shouting gleefully.

"Cara?" I asked, dumbfounded. "What— what are you doing here?"

"Capturing you!" Cara snickered. "I just captured the greatest thief in Solangia!"

"Debatable," I said, twisting out of her slightly looser hold, "Especially if there's no one around to back up your claim."

"Oh, dammit." She laughed. "I can't believe this. Where have you been? Why are you here? Why haven't any of us heard from you?" Her grin turned into a scowl. "Do you have any idea how worried we were? You didn't even warn us!"

I backed away slightly. Cara's anger was a force of nature. No matter who you were or how you knew her, getting scolded by her was like being scolded by your mother, whom you had personally disappointed and perhaps insulted.

She propped her hands on her hips and I winced. That meant second level scolding, the second-worst kind. (First level scolding was the emotional level of a typhoon and I had been lucky enough to witness it only once in my life.) "First you spend weeks doing secretive little thief-y things and not telling us about them, which, by the way, drove Sam sick with worry about you. Then you just flat out disappear without telling anyone where you're going or how we can find you, which, by the way, was especially not nice to Nemia. And then you show up here without warning, trying to steal a..." She looked down at the sack by her feet. She must have stopped to shake out its contents instead of following the other guards up the stairs, because the objects I had filled it with for authenticity were strewn across the floor. "...a treatise on fortress defenses, an inkwell, some paperweights, a broken knife handle, and some loose change." She looked up at me. "I admit that's stumping me."

"Don't be angry," I said, hugging her again. "I'm sorry."

"You're going to need a better apology than that!" But she wrapped her arms around me and squeezed tightly.

"I've missed you," I whispered, my throat tightening. I'd been so worried lately about how I'd left Nemia that my homesickness for the comforting presence of Cara and Nick and Sam had faded. But seeing Cara was a painful reminder of how long it had been since our group of friends had traded jokes and stories around the mess hall tables. "I can't believe you're all the way out here."

She pulled back, keeping her hands on my shoulders. "Well, yes, it's awful, and far below a woman of my talents, and some days I wish Englescroft would just attack already so we could have some excitement, and it sincerely worries me that I don't know what awfulness Nick is getting up to in my absence—

"Worried?" I asked.

"Morane," she said seriously, "He's practically my only source of entertainment while you're gone."