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

Chapter 20

"That," Rook said grimly, taking a bite of his sandwich, "is a terrible idea."

Nyle, pacing the floor below the platform where Rook was eating his lunch among his scattered pencils and notebooks, ran his hands through his hair. He'd cleaned up in the fountain, and though there were plenty of dark bruises mottling his skin, the cuts and scrapes weren't as bad as Rook had thought earlier. "I know it is," Nyle said, turning on his heel and walking back the other way. "But I can't just...I can't just leave her like that. You saw her face when she thought I'd died."

Staring at his sandwich for a second, Rook took another bite and chewed slowly, a breeze playing with his hair and lifting the pages of one notebook as if trying to read what he'd written there. Lillian had been white as a ghost at the hanging, and though Nyle didn't know it, Rook had gone to check on her afterwards to make sure she hadn't tried anything stupid in her grief. It'd hurt, even though he didn't know her and barely knew Nyle, to see her so broken.

"It'd really screw with the surprise factor later on, you know," Rook said, swallowing and taking another bite. There was nothing like some good ham and cheese on thick bread. He almost felt guilty for depriving that shopkeeper of whatever revenue he might've gotten for it. "And if she lets it slip that you're alive, there's a good chance you won't be for much longer."

"She's smart as hell, Rook," Nyle said with a shake of his head, walking up the stairs with a slight limp and taking a seat across from Min, who eyed him with withering distrust. "She'd know better than to let it slip. Give me some of that, will you? I'm starving."

With a good-natured scowl, Rook tore off half the sandwich and handed it over, cracking a grin when Nyle shut his eyes as he took a bite. "It's good, isn't it?" he said, finishing off his half.

Nyle scoffed, chewing. "It'th thtolen."

"So? Still tastes fantastic." Rook leaned back on his elbows. "Anyway. I still think it's a bad idea. There's too much that could go wrong. Besides, last I checked, hell isn't particularly intelligent."

Rolling his eyes, Nyle reached for the water flask and took a drink. "I know a lot could go wrong, Rook. I..." He hesitated, looking at his boots. "I lost a good friend to plan gone wrong not too long ago. I know the risk."

"Right," Rook said, somewhat sobered by the tone. "We'll go, then, but not until after dark, and only if you do something very important first."

"What's that?"

Rook took a handful of raisins from his pack and flicked one at him. "Sleep."

***

Ten hours later, they were wraiths in the night, moving through the fog, stirring it in their wake. It hid some things, softened others, and brought out the darkest parts of every shadow it invaded. The sun had long set, and the night was moonless; the haze reigned in all its smoke-like glory.

Nyle was tied loosely to Rook with a tether to avoid losing him; they were both hidden by Rook's power. Beneath the illusion they both wore dark cloaks and close-fitting clothing of a dark tan to match the shadowed sandstone, along with thin scarves pulled over the lower halves if their faces, a safeguard if they had to separate and Rook lost his concentration.

The castle loomed above them after a while, less than half-visible in the gloom. They waited for the guards to change shifts, then slipped in as they had earlier, silent as the shadows they hid themselves in. Rook led them up too many stairs to count, through halls and past guards. Nyle's heartbeat was in his throat, his trust in the fragile layer of concealment Rook's illusion provided wavering with each person they passed, then steadying again as they made it undetected.