Children Of The Sky (The Scripts Of Neptune, Book 2)

Chapter 17

Nyle learned very, very quickly that as crazy as Rook was, he knew what he was doing. By the time Nyle woke up the next morning, Rook had already been out in the market and retrieved breakfast, and he'd somehow found the time to write out a plan of action and figure out a great deal about the situation from what Nyle had told him. 

He'd explained as Nyle ate, not bothering to tame his tangled head of black curls. It was a good plan, Nyle admitted--they had a week or so to act, with the time travel normally took between Erilian and Etniria, giving them much-needed time to figure out how to do...whatever it was they needed to. Rook's invisibility solved the problem of tricking the king into thinking Nyle had come alone, but they still needed to figure out what the king had planned, which was less than easy without scouting. Rook said he had it taken care of. Nyle said he wanted to help. Rook argued before giving up, and they set out into the late morning sunlight and green-scented air to stalk a king side-by-side.

It was difficult to keep up with the boy as he wove through the crowds, darting through alleys and side streets, walking the city he claimed to have never visited like he'd lived there his whole life. There was something strange about this Rook, something wild and free and unkempt yet somehow organized in the way a hummingbird's flight was, all quick and chaotic yet managing not to run into anything. Nyle wondered how he did it, what his life had been like that he'd maintained such a carefree persona. Not many children those days, as sad as it was, could do the same.

They slipped into the castle with Rook's help--his abilities, as it turned out, weren't limited to himself, so Nyle claimed invisibility right alongside him as he weaseled past a guard who came in for his shift change. Getting places was harder after that, so Rook kindly decided to inform Nyle he could also change one's appearance--and thus Ellian Herald, castle guard, was born. 

Nyle remembered very little of the castle layout from his stay, but things began to look familiar towards the wing with the great hall. Rook left him guarding the door to go scout the main rooms connecting to it with a quick promise to be back within the hour. 

Nyle learned, in the first half of that hour, that he had a great respect for the patience of the guards in his own castle. The hall was quiet and boring, murals in greens and browns and blues that he'd long since memorized etched into five grey banners hung along the wall, no windows, no fresh air, nothing but torchlight and stone and the door and his thoughts. He had to trust Rook to keep up the illusion of the guard's outfit, which had proven dependable thus far, though the spear was fortunately real, borrowed--like most things Rook had--from someone unfortunate. 

The time, as well as boring him, gave him more space than was probably healthy to think about what the hell he was doing. He found he didn't have an answer to that question, which should've concerned him, but somehow didn't, which did concern him. That apathy was back, the spirit of not caring that'd haunted him back in the castle after Lillian had said what she did and the council had decided to send her away. He didn't care that he'd probably not live through the week, or that he'd decided to trust a boy who'd robbed him after less than an hour of talking with him, or that he was standing in a hall holding a spear and hoping to the gods no one showed up and asked him any questions. There was an ache when he thought of what he was here for, and whom, and why, an ache that made him shut his eyes and steady his breathing before the stress of it all could get a grip on his lungs and his mind like it had when he'd been confronted by the council. It almost succeeded, and he had to lean back against the doorframe and clench his hand around the shaft of his spear to keep it back. 

He'd managed to steady his breathing when he heard voices down the hall. Stiffening, he straightened and held his spear with white-knuckled fingers, heart skipping a beat and eyes locked on the wall across from him. The voices drew closer, one calm and collected, the other--a girl--venomous as she spat her words. Nyle's breath caught. He knew that voice.