CHAPTER 18: Through the Veil of Night - Part 3

  She had anticipated the attack on her legs, jumping onto a tree to use it as a springboard to launch herself at Ryse.

  Gale Bolt in Ryse’s free palm met her fist. Sherry's motion halted, but in its place, he was thrown back several steps. His position was now near the cliff's edge.

  As Varne's gaze returned to her, the woman had already left her original spot. She leaped, feet landing on a tree trunk above before launching herself again at Ryse. A blue aura wrapped around her right fist.

  Ryse made the right decision by leaping backward into the air. At the same time, he spread out green discs; their arrangement was not straight but curved to carry him back to the hill.

  Thus, as Sherry's punch created a loud thud and a large depression in the ground, Ryse ran stepping on the Mistral and turned back to the hill. They were ready to face each other again when a sudden vibration shook the entire hill.

  The edge of the hill where she stood broke away, carrying her who was too late to save herself. The bandits called out their leader's name, knowing from this distance they could do nothing.

  Then Ryse, once again, acted beyond Varne's comprehension. Ryse jumped down. His left hand grabbed hers, while the whip in his right hand wrapped around a tree. They dangled from the cliff as chunks of rock fell into the corridor below.

  Varne suspected Ryse's meddling nature was contagious. Uncharacteristic of him, Varne pulled the whip and hoisted them up. The bandits rushed to help Sherry to stand up.

  Fierce expression returned to their faces as the bandits resolved to protect her from them. But she raised her hand to stop them.

  “There are two things I fear most,” she said to Ryse. She could stand on her own, but her entire body was stiff. “Hunger and heights.”

  It seemed her way of saying thanks – to Ryse, not to Varne.

  “Boys! Take the injured and leave this place!” she said. “I suggest you two leave now.”

  With a toss of her blonde hair, she turned and walked away. The bandits supported each other and followed her like chicks after a hen.

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  “That's it? Just like that?” Varne said.

  “Hopefully. Let's go before Isofean soldiers show up.”

  ***

  Varne and Ryse lay prone at the edge of the cliff. Below them, roofs of houses with windows emitting faint yellow lights were clustered in large and small groups. Braziers every ten steps illuminated the city's winding, asymmetrical streets.

  During the curfew, only city guards were allowed outside, leaving the streets deserted. However, the grand lighthouse of Renfru, a symbol of its splendor and power, still shone with its fiery eyes.

  “They haven't tightened security,” Ryse whispered. “Maybe they're still keeping Ordofel's murder a secret.”

  “Not tight?” Varne frowned, seeing the city patrol torches floating through the streets. Ryse's actions and thoughts always contradicted his.

  “See that house by the well?” Ryse said. “That's one of the entrances to the Thief Guild. That's where we're headed.”

  Ryse returned to stealth mode. As soon as the lighthouse's beam shifted from the cliff wall, he began descending. He stopped in the shadows when the lighthouse completed a rotation and returned, using the brief light to determine his next foothold. Varne followed him.

  After all, Renfru was not a fortress; guarding every entrance was impossible. Reaching the city's edge, Ryse crossed one block to another. The systematic patrol routes made it difficult for them. Often, they had to return to a previous hiding spot while patrols passed by just a breath after they hid.

  “Oi, kid!” a captain called from behind his troop. “You haven't checked here.” He turned forward while his torch pointed to a gap between two houses, right at Ryse's face.

  Varne was behind Ryse. The gap where they hid was so narrow there was no room for a full breath, let alone a fight. If enemies came with spears, they would be in trouble. Iron boots clinked on the road surface as the patrol turned to check. Varne drew Dorian’s knife and prepared.

  Just as the patrol reached the mouth of the gap, a long whistle cut through the air. At first, it was just one, but then other whistles joined.

  “Intruders!” the captain shouted. “Quick, over there!”

  Accompanied by the jingle of light armor, they ran, leaving them both behind. Ryse smiled, adopting an 'it's no big deal' expression.

  “Don't give me that scowl, Varn. Whatever it was, we're safe.”

  Most city guards ran toward the southern gate, which made it easier for them to reach the house next to the well. Ryse knocked on the door. Varne did not understand the meaning, but his knocks followed a specific pattern. Following that, he opened it without waiting to be invited in.

  An elderly couple sat side by side at a table, sipping a warm drink with a lemongrass scent. They continued talking to each other as if unaware of their presence.

  “Just leave them,” Ryse said as he opened the door to another room. Before entering, he took a lantern from the wall.

  The room was a sort of storage filled with broken chairs with torn cushions, shattered tiles, broken rakes, and various other unusable items, including a wooden door with a round knob.

  Ryse lifted the door that leaned against the wall and laid it on the floor. A click sounded, and when he opened it, the door revealed a downward path behind it.

  “This whole door is the key. Come on. Don't forget to grab that lantern,” Ryse said.