"The guards should change soon," I told Ophelia, who crouched next to me, a dark cloak covering much of her body. I almost expected her to ask how I knew, but she didn't press this time. I had to stop myself from letting out a sigh of relief.
She was dressed in the same dark clothes she'd entered the meeting room with, which included a gray-blue, almost black, long-sleeve shirt that reached all the way down her arms to her wrists, black gloves, and dyed pants that made her blend into the shadows where we crouched.
Looking at her there in the alley, she was probably the picture-perfect emblem of what a sneaky rogue should look like. The only thing that really stood out about here was the lack of any metal glinting on her body. I still had no idea what kind of weapons she tended to lean toward, which was probably not a great thing, considering Felix's earlier warnings.
My own dagger was tucked closely behind my cloak, making it harder to see any light that might reflect off it. It was just a motion away if I needed it.
Like Ophelia, I had my cloak's hood pulled up around my face, hiding every bit of skin that I could. She might be the perfect embodiment of a rogue in the natural world, but I had the System on my side, and it had proven time and again thus far that having that extra power gave me a lot more options than a normal person might get.
Ophelia and I waited in silence until the telltale sign of a flickering light appeared briefly at the top of the building.
“Let’s move,” I said, making a low noise in my throat as I started moving, my joints stiff from crouching too long. I started counting down from 80.
If I remembered the outline of the building correctly—which I couldn't say I did, but I wasn't going to tell Ophelia that—then it should take the guards around 30 seconds to change places.
That left another 50 seconds for the old guard to move into the hidden passageway out to the palace. That should give us plenty of time to sneak up, pick the door locks, and get inside while the new guard was distracted with settling in.
When my countdown hit 10, I started moving. Crouched low to the ground, I rushed across the street, sticking to the shadows between the magelights as best I could. When I reached the other side, I pressed my back to the wall, Ophelia did the same a breath later.
I finished counting and then pulled one of the lockpicks from my satchel and leaned in to peer at the knob. I hadn't ever picked a lock, but I was counting on the level that I had in the skill to help me figure things out. Without giving myself time to think about how ruined we would be if I messed this up, I pressed the pick into the lock and began fumbling with it.
Perhaps it was the System's help, or maybe the lock here just wasn't very good, but I heard a click in the doorknob and then when I twisted it, the door swung inward slightly. I stuffed the pick back in my satchel and peered through the small space between the door and the door frame.
The room inside was small and simple, with a few chairs situated around a table and a small cot nestled against the side opposite of the door. I slowly pushed my head further past the opening, making sure nobody was hiding behind the door, and motioned for Ophelia to follow me inside.
Shutting the door behind us, I turned and took in the rest of the room. Stairs that led down into the basement below were situated on the left side of the room, and a wooden ladder clung to the area just beyond it, leading up to what looked like a hole for a trapdoor. I ignored the ladder and moved to the top of the stairs, Ophelia right behind.
We took the stairs two at a time, hurrying down them and into the depths of the building. It quickly opened into another small room, this one empty of everything save for a few crates, which I knew should hold some rations for the guards to make use of if they ended up stuck here for an extended amount of time. Judging by the smell that clung to every breath, it was likely those rations had long spoiled and not been replaced.
This place really was falling apart without me in charge.
I moved beyond the crates to another small doorframe laid into the stone wall and tried the knob. It was locked, so I pulled out another lockpick and got to work.
This door took a few moments longer to work through, and I even managed to break one of the picks when I pressed too hard on one of the pins.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
I didn't know exactly what the pins were, or even what they did, but something in my head told me they existed and were important to what I was trying to do.
A noise like a stifled chuckle caught my ear and anger stirred in my chest. I did my best to ignore it, focusing on the lockpick in my fingers instead. Finally, the lock clicked and the knob twisted open.
Skill Increased: Lockpick +1
The message flashed across my vision and I dismissed it. As elating as it was, I'd lost too much time getting through this second door and the anger that I’d felt at the sound of Ophelia’s amusement threatened to choke it out entirely.
"Time to pick up the speed," I told Ophelia as I pulled the second door closed behind us. The tunnel before us was dimly lit by magelights that hung down from the ceiling every hundred hand-lengths, creating pockets of shadow and light in the cramped space.
Ophelia didn't complain as I took off at a brisk pace, careful to keep an eye on her as we progressed. After several steps, the tunnel began to slant downward.
"Are we going down?" Ophelia asked, her voice was soft but it still echoed off the walls cramped around us.
I shot her a glare and nodded, keeping my voice low as I responded. "The tunnel travels under the city and then back up into the mountain the palace is built on. It should bring us out in the lower dungeons."
"That seems stupid," she continued behind me. "I assume that this tunnel was meant for evacuation, in case the palace ever falls. So why make it so long-winded and annoying to traverse?"
I felt something gnawing at my gut. Anger, maybe? Or was it just frustration? I had been the one to design these tunnels. I decided it was best that I didn't respond to her comments.
"Noticed you broke a pick up there," her voice grated against my self control. "I've got a bit more experience with these things if you want me to take the next one. Grew up picking locks since I was old enough to walk, basically."
"I don't need your help." I bit out the words as we walked.
I did not need her help. I reassured myself. I had the same skills she did, probably more. Sure, maybe I hadn't been cultivating them for years like she had, but I could still do it.
I was a Rogue now, according to the System, and I wouldn't settle until I was the best godsdamned rogue that the world had ever seen.
Or you get yourself run through by the [Hero]'s sword again.
I really had to stop letting those thoughts catch me off guard so often. I couldn't think like that every time my mind fleeted to what had been. I needed to focus.
Things were different now. I was different. That was part of the reason I was going through with this nightmare of a quest in the first place. This was about more than just the seal. I needed to know what the imposter was up to.
Without turning, I addressed Ophelia. "I don't expect you to fully trust me, but Aurelion wanted us to work together, and that means some level of trust, right? So I need you to trust that I have this handled. I know where we're going, and everything is going to work out just fine, if you'll just have a little faith in the plan."
"Be easier to have faith in a plan I had details for," she muttered, but she didn't say anything else.
The conversation died and we continued in silence, our footsteps the only sound as the tunnel floor evened out. A curve in the corridor stretched before us, and I slowed as we drew close. The guard shifts had just changed out, so we shouldn't encounter anyone else down here. If we did, then that meant things had changed more than I suspected, which could cause a slew of other problems for us.
I took the turn slowly, hand pressed into my cloak, fingers wrapped around the hilt of my dagger, and nearly collided with a fully armored guard shuffling his way toward the entrance.
He stumbled backward at the sight of us, and I drew my dagger out, preparing to close the last of the distance and bring him down. I barely made it a step before a soft thunk sounded behind me and I turned to see Ophelia's arm stretched out just beside my shoulder, a one-handed crossbow tucked into her grip.
A thud followed a second later and I glanced back at the guard to find his body on the ground, the bolt from Ophelia's crossbow sticking out of one of the eye slits on his helmet. I gaped at the accuracy she'd managed on such a quick pull. I wasn't even sure where she'd kept the weapon.
"Hells," I muttered as she stepped around me and pulled the bolt out of the guard's eye. The prospect of her stabbing me in the back rushed to the front of my mind as a wet squelch filled the air. A shiver danced down my spine.
Felix had not mentioned anything about her being able to take me out from a distance. That seemed like very important information to tell someone if they had to worry about their partner-in-crime doing such a thing.
"Don't worry," she said, as if she was somehow privy to my thoughts. “You wouldn’t see it coming until it was too late.”
The subsequent smile that stretched across her face did not instill any kind of peace within me. I tried not to think about it too much as I stepped over the dead guard's body and continued up the tunnel.
Even if she didn't stab me in the back, two things were certain. First, I'd severely underestimated her. Second… we likely wouldn't be able to use this route to get back out of the palace and our timetable had just been moved up exponentially.
Fire grew in my veins, pulsing out to every part of my body as the adrenaline kicked in.
Of course, that was all based on the assumption that the guard back at the hidden entrance was expecting his partner to arrive at some point, and that he might come looking when they didn't. That also meant the body would be discovered sooner, rather than later, and that they'd know someone hostile had made it past their defenses.
I rubbed a palm against my neck, as if feeling the executioner's blade against it already. How unbelievable would it be if I ended up dead for sneaking into my own palace, after everything that I'd been through already?
I cursed our luck and picked up the pace, not even giving Ophelia a warning as I broke into a brisk jog. Her curses were soon drowned out by the sound of our footsteps echoing off the corridor walls like a pounding war drum.