The Way We Fall

Chapter 79 (Roche)

"I'm tempted to let Fake Harold have at her." Roche grumbled as she stalked back into Verita's chambers late in the night. Verita smirked at her, not looking up from the book she was binding.

"Long day?"

"The longest." Roche agreed, sinking onto one of the benches with a groan, "I also surveyed part of the route while Tigris was fighting. I need to leave in an hour if I'm to find Harold before the match begins tomorrow."

"Are you sure you should be going alone?" Verita asked, gently folding her book shut. Her face creased with concern. "If the Councilman is there guarding the real Harold-"

"Then no knight would be able to fight him." Roche answered, rolling her shoulders, "I'm the only one with the means to stop him."

Verita bit her lip, her normally stern features nervous. Roche sighed. "I'll be fine, Verita. This shouldn't take more than a few hours. I'll probably be back before dawn."

Verita eased herself to her feet. "In that case, I'm going to insist that you eat some dinner and take a nap before you go." The librarian's voice was stern, but Roche's heart warmed at her concern. She obliged, eating the under seasoned stew that Verita heaped into a bowl for her.

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The guards were still on the lookout for the inkblood who had tried assassinating Tigris, so Roche had to remain very careful as she darted through the castle. She couldn't waltz out the gates, but she doubted that she would have to.

Roche made it to the ancient hall where Harold had fought her. It was spotless, not a trace of the fight that had occurred days ago. Roche could have sworn that her nostrils tingled with the scent of copper and the wild aroma of inkblood. She kept close to the wall. Harold hadn't left the hall, otherwise Tigris, Finn, and Kai would have tracked him to the cliff. Roche suspected he'd found another way out, similar to the way he'd gotten into the library.

Her fingers curled around the heavy, carved frame of the large painting hung on the wall. The eyes of the former king seemed to bore into her as she wiggled the painting this way and that. It moved soundlessly and with ease, like it had been moved recently. Roche wedged her shoulder under the large painting, shoving it upward with her meagre strength. The painting let out a small groan and then swung upwards and locked, revealing an open passageway.

Roche blinked at it for a moment. How many tunnels ran through the ancient castle? How many of them were known to the Council? She crawled through the passageway, easing the painting down behind her as she entered, leaving her in total darkness.

With a single thought, her inkblood blazed a small ball of fire in her palms. The passageway was more straightforward than the library's. It angled up sharply, dingy and rocky. She crept forward until a silvery light twined with the warm, orangey glow of her fire. She extinguished her flames immediately. The tunnel led to a large, padlocked grate. Roche bet that a guard like Harold would have the keys to unlock it.

Good thing she didn't need one.

"Ancinda."

With a gentle click, the padlock unlocked, Roche eased the rusty grate open, ignoring the grime and moss that clung to her fingers as she did so. As she stepped out into the moonlight, a chilly, salty breeze assaulted her. Roche pulled her cloak tight, her face stinging. She was somewhere along a remote stretch of the beach. She snuck around until pale sand smoothed into cobblestone which then thickened into mud. The smell of the sea wafted away, replaced by petrichor. Roche caught her bearings. It didn't take long to find the route she'd scouted out yesterday.

Roche clutched her satchel tightly to her side. She hadn't brought much, just a small dagger, a few pieces of bread, a waterskin, and Leinos' emergency kit. She wasn't sure how long she'd be gone, but if the scry was anything to base off of, she had at least a three hour trek ahead of her.