The Iron Butterfly (Iron Butterfly #1)
Page 39Notching another padded arrow I quickly followed my bow around the corner and shot the Captain. He was very close and tried to dodge my arrow, but I was faster and grazed his shoulder. He let out a grunt in pain.
Rats, I thought, a shoulder graze wouldn’t be considered a killing wound and the Captain knew it. He ducked into a doorway to wait me out. Slowly reaching into my leather hip pouch, I pulled forth one of Ruzaa’s concoctions that I had transferred into a clay container.
I peeked just enough around the corner to aim and threw the jar as hard as I could at the ground. It broke open and a heady potion spilled out, a sleeping potion.
Ducking back around the corner, I pulled out a black cloth mask that covered my nose and the bottom half of my face, and waited until I heard a soft thud.
Holding my breath I dashed around the corner with the painted knife in hand. Feeling awful at what I was about to do, I almost backed out, but decided to run the fake knife across his stomach, so there wouldn’t be any chance of accidental injury. The scent of the sleep inducing potion was making my eyes burn, I needed to move away quickly.
Two left.
GO! GET GOING! RUN TO THE RIGHT!
Listening to Faraway I ran and followed his directions past the garden and courtyard. Stopping when he told me to and moving when it was clear, until I reached the locked wood chute that led down into the kitchen.
My nerves made me drop the key twice before I heard the quiet click of the lock. I was in luck, the wood chute was low enough on wood for me to squeeze through. But the darkness of the chute intimidated me. I almost decided to turn around and go in the front door of the main hall, but that would be suicide. And the training game over.
Taking a deep breath I gently placed each foot into the chute and waited until the logs quit moving before I applied more weight. Once I was fully inside, I pulled the outside doors closed, encasing myself in pitch black nothingness. Taking a second to calm my nerves, I painstakingly made my way down the wood chute inches at a time, stopping every so often to listen for sounds.
By the time I reached the bottom and the floor began to level out, my hands were full of splinters. I could see a faint glow coming from the kitchen fire under the chute doors.
Pressing my eye to the crack, I waited to see if anyone was in the kitchen. The fire was dim and the kitchen deserted. Here was the final test. I had asked Avina to sneak into the kitchen and unlock the wood chute door after dinner.
Pressing my splintered hands to the door I gently pushed against the heavy door and felt it give and then meet resistance. All kinds of doubts assailed me. Was I locked in? Did Avina not get it unlocked? Glancing up the chute the way I had come, I doubted I would be able to make it up without anyone hearing me. Before I started to panic, I pressed my eye to the bottom crack to notice that something was leaning against the door.
Letting my eyes adjust to the light I saw that it was a mop and bucket, the mop handle was leaning against the door. The ground was about three feet from the bottom of the chute, and if I swung open the door, I would knock over the mop handle and the bucket of water. Weighing my options, I decided to chance it. Pushing against the door with one hand the mop started to slide sideways.
When the door was opened far enough, I darted my free hand under the door and caught the broom as it fell to the floor. The water in the bucket sloshed precariously back and forth making a small puddle on the floor. Sweat formed along my brow as I stepped out of the chute, closed the door and moved the mop handle back.
There were long tables set up like a buffet, with fruits, rolls, desserts, drinkable chocolate and spiced cider. My stomach growled in protest and I envied the students laughing casually and eating.
Adept Cirrus and Adept Kambel were monitoring the students coming in and both looked to be in good spirits, taking the whole training game in fun compared to Adept Lorna and Pax.
Syrani was furious, sitting on a table, legs crossed with evidence of a green paint pack still plastered to her head and smeared along her chin. A group of younger students listened in awe, fawning over her.
“I so would have had him,” she sniffed, taking a handkerchief from a young love-struck boy and dabbing at her face, which only seemed to make the green paint smear more. “I had followed one of them into the library and watched as he snuck into the archives. Just as I was about to send the whole shelf of books on top of him, one of them somehow got behind me and hit me in the face. He must have cheated; I can see no other possible explanation.”
A chorus of agreements followed her statement. She looked like a queen addressing her subjects.
Looking at the fresh paint smearing her face I knew that I had little time, because both of the targets were at that moment in the library. Not about to take them both on at once, I took the servant stairs toward my room.
Stopping a few feet from my door I knelt and pressed my cheek to the cold marble floor. The dust hadn’t been disturbed; no one had entered my room … yet.
Seeing that the armoire door was open and empty and doing a quick check under the bed, I moved back to the door and kneeled in front of the keyhole so I could spy on my own room. Pulling another sleeping potion from my pouch I waited, with the intention of throwing the jar at whoever tried to enter, while I hid behind a locked door until they fell asleep.
All of the excitement was filling me with adrenaline, and I realized I was no longer afraid. I licked my lips in anticipation as a thought hit me. I enjoyed being the predator, instead of the prey.
My fingers itched with the eagerness to act, and I felt a bubble of self-pride filling my body. Reflecting on my earlier conquest, I did a quick tally; I took down two Captains, Joss took down two, which left the one SwordBrother.
I felt a trickle of fear and confusion as I did the math again. There was only supposed to be one left, but replaying Syrani’s conversation again in my head, that she followed one and was attacked by another, that left two. Something wasn’t adding up.
It was then I felt the light breeze brushing the hair on the back of my neck and I froze. Turning toward the window, a black outline of a man’s form was stepping slowly down from the window sill.
Mentally I cussed at myself for not checking and locking the window. The figure pulled out the fake knife and advanced toward me with purpose. Quick as I could, I threw the jar at him and rolled away from the door, trying to put as much distance between myself and the man.
He expertly darted out his hand and caught the jar in midair, bringing it down and pocketing it. Without wasting any more time, he lunged at me. Shocked that he caught it, I couldn’t do much more than grab my own dyed knife in hope that I could stab him first. Jumping backwards I evaded the first lunge with the knife but I was cornered and I had stupidly moved away from my only exit.