Chapter Fifty One: Vermin

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We arrived at the white tower just as the purple sky of day was beginning to fade, giving way to the inky black of night. The snow came steadily now, still in gentle flurries, for now at least. A team of four guards stood in a line before the doors. Others, marked by their silver breast plates, encircled it. An inner ring of them stood at attention, hands on their blades, while an outer ring walked around the perimeter, never more than five paces between each other. Their eyes peered out of their moon crested helms, watching for evil doers, unaware that one such evil doer watched them from the corner of a nearby building.

"Damn it." Finn cursed, pressing himself so close to my back to peer over my head that I could feel his heart beating through his clothing. "The tower rarely boasts more than two guards. I've never seen their defenses so thick before." He shook his head. His curls bounced and waved around his head. "Forget it. There's no way we're getting in." I could hear Finn's fear in his every strangled breath. "We'll talk to my mother. Maybe there's another way to get you out of the city." He grabbed my shoulder, tried to pry me from the building's stones.

I shrugged out of his hold, shooting him down with a glare. "Oh ye of so little faith," I sneered. "I got very close to killing your Lord Kieran and there were more soldiers than this at his camp."

"This is suicide." He breathed raspily. He raked his hands through his curly hair. "Lady Matilda, I'm sorry I should have said before. I should have warned you, but I truly didn't think there would be so many..."

"What?" I asked. I turned to face him, pointing my back at the building wall. Hidden beneath my cloak, nervous fingers wrapped around the handle of my dagger.

"The City Guards are the only residents of the city whose power is not completely siphoned off by the thorns. Many of the guards are especially powerful. Boys with a greater affinity for magic are chosen for the guard at birth and serve from the age of eight until they can no longer. They may not be able to see you in your magic cloak, but they'll sense you."

I clenched my jaw, swallowing bitter tasting spit. At Finn's warning, for just a moment, I was there in the treeline overlooking Kieran's camp again. I was draped in darkness, hidden beneath a shroud of Knut's protective magic and the shadows of night, but a pair of green eyes found me all the same, eyes that churned with the terrifying violence of a turbulent sea, that promised death if I so much as flinched.

"I did not come all this way and nearly die just to balk at a few guards. Evading the authorities is practically my career at this point." I said proudly.

"They're not going to let you just waltz in through the front door." He huffed.

I smiled prettily at him. "That's why I have you, dear boy." I cooed, patting a blushing cheek.

"You're seriously still going to try? I'm telling you, it is impossible."

"There's never just one way into a building. I've broken into enough houses in my lifetime to know that much. There are unlocked back doors, larders with flimsy latches, open windows." My lips twitched at a sudden realization. "Finn, your people do enjoy your baths, don't you?" I asked. I remembered the large bathing chamber in Lir's house and the bathhouse where we'd formulated our plan that morning. "All that water. Where does it go? Is there a way to empty the pools for cleaning?"

"Yes," he said. "It drains out through a series of pipes into the aqueducts beneath the streets and buildings where it flows out of the city."

"And how wide are the pipes usually?" I prodded.

"You're plotting to crawl up the drainage pipes, aren't you?" He paled at the sight of the grin on my face. "Seriously? You're willing to climb through sewage like a rat?"

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