Shadow Touched (Editing)

37. NAIMA

It's a good thing I don't fear heights since His Majesty locked me up in the Castle's highest turret.

Climbing out and over the window in the dead of night, with the Castle on high alert, isn't the smartest idea. Now, as a blast of enchanted wind pummels into my face as I dangle above the ground, one hand precariously holding on to the turret's ledge., it particularly doesn't feel smart. Why did it have to be a turret? If I'd been locked up in one of the towers, granted, there'd have been more guards for me to evade, but the damned turrets jut out, leaving me limited purchase to scurry up and over.

I take a deep breath. I don't have time to complain. I need to move from where I hang in the next five minutes—the exact amount of time it takes for the guard shift to change.

Another blast of wind blows into my face. It catches me by surprise as it pulls the breath from my lungs. What is it with me and the wind? Lately, I feel like I'm being stalked by an annoying, never-ending gale.

The Castle reaches so high into the sky I can't see the ground or Finch's guard stationed on the balcony below. Castle Mirrador was built in the Age of the Gods when we had the magics to build a fully fortified castle on one of the highest mountain peaks in the Six Realms. A mountain so high it was said it could reach the Godsplain above.

I shift my weight to my left side, throwing my body upward. The lift is enough to push me from the window's edge to the arrow loop in the turret. I grab hold, my hand sliding into the slit. I throw my right hand up so that I hold the ledge with both hands. I continue to dangle, but hey, I'm higher up.

The turret sits across from its own double, separated by a flat, square space that houses a vestry dedicated to the Age of Gods. It's a small room generally only used for secret Kingly rituals I'm not supposed to know about. It's also one of the places in the Castle Grey and I used to meet in secret. It tends to be unguarded, and I'm banking on it remaining so. If I can get in there, I can take an unguarded passage that will lead me into and down the mountain, sight unseen. I'll be able to make it to Varran City in less than an hour. Assuming I keep my pace up.

Up and over. That's all it will take. I swing myself out, one hand on the arrow loop, the other flying free through the air. My hand lands on the thin ledge. My grip tight. I let go of the arrow loop just as another blast of godsforsaken wind hits me. It's strong and nearly knocks my hold off the ledge.

I scrabble for purchase as the wind forces a gasp from my lips. Kicking my left leg up, I manage to snag it on the ledge. Using all my upper body strength, I pull myself up, finally managing to scramble over.

I pull out my handy suction cups from the small sack I carry. You'd think with all the magic and enchanted objects available in the big cities, I'd just purchase some magic dust and use that, but no. Magic is easier to trace than people realize. All magic wielders leave some remnant of themselves in their work. Like a fingerprint, it's a signature unique to the wielder. Unless you're paying for top-end magical fare, that imprint can be super easy to recognize and follow up on.

But suction cups? You can make suction cups in your own home, on your own time, if you're so inclined. Or you can purchase them from a craftsman who thinks it's strange for a woman to be interested in home renovation. Still, hey, you're pretty nice to look at, so, you know, he just goes with it.

The suction cups are the ideal tool for a cat burglar. You just snap them on the window, give a quick twist and—boom!—the windows out, and you can slide right in. Of course, doing that when you're a thousand feet up, and there's a vicious wind trying to knock you out so that you plummet to your untimely death isn't so easy. Still, with some patience and the right maneuvering, you can get the glass in through the window, down on the ground—without it shattering—and your body through the window pane.