Waking at the sound of metal scraping across stone, I saw a guard rise after having slid a tray through the slot designated for such. When I tried to make eye contact, he averted his gaze and marched away.
“Agoshe,” I said, and my bead light lit the dim space. My food consisted of flat breads, both black and brown, bean paste with fire oil, and a dish of water. Eating with gratitude, I wondered how my brethren and their mates fared on Ikthe. I’d left my treasured book of maps and hunters’ tales with Naraxthel, tasking him to care for it as if it was a child, and assuring him my own mate and I would join their group as soon as possible.
I just needed to find her.
Pushing the tray back out onto the corridor floor, dust kicked up in my face and I coughed. The Sister-Queens had coughed yesterday. Now that I reflected, BoKama’s cough did sound like it was worsening. What had the Queen said to her?
“Avoid the tower passageway; your cough worsens, and the winds blow cold and fierce from the tower.”
The tower passageway was a separate entrance into the dungeons. It was as far from my current location as possible, and inaccessible unless from the tower.
Feeling imbecilic at my oversight, I cowered in the corner, waiting with growing impatience for the guard to remove my tray. Keeping my helmet close to hand, I listened for footsteps or for VELMA’s subtle chime.
After what seemed like a zatik but was probably only a quarter zatik, the thudding steps of a bored guard echoed from the corridor.
I pretended to be nodding off but watched as the guard stooped to pick up the tray, gave my form a passing glance, and turned his back without a care.
I activated stealth mode. On silent feet, I opened the cell gate and padded behind the guard, grasping him around the neck with one arm while snatching the metal tray with my other hand to avoid the clatter. Squeezing tight, I waited for the guard to collapse in my arms, and I laid him down, placing my tray with a quiet plink.
Unlike the Iktheka or the WarGuard, the fortress guards wore common armor, not the formidable armor enlivened by shel. He would remain unconscious for zatiks.
Taking the stairs several at a time, I paused before each landing. It wouldn’t do to leave a trail of unconscious guards, nor to start a battle within the castle walls, so I remained in stealth and managed to sneak past them all save for the last one.
He squinted and stepped toward me when I tried to pass, and I knocked him flat with a single smite of my fist. Looking around at the empty great hall, I propped him on a bench, and sprinted across the smooth polished floor to the largest doorway.
I had to cross the feasting hall, slide through the tapestry entryway, pass the Eunuchs’ preparation chambers, and several private rooms before I would reach the tower passageway. Frowning, I thought that a prayer to the goddesses would be logical at this juncture if it were my habit, but it was not. CeCe needed action, not belief.
Resolved, I slipped into the feast hall, gratified to see it was empty. My mind echoed with the memory of sounds of clanking goblets and murmured discussions, the deep roll of the Lottery Drum as the stone tablets rolled down its slope, and the Queen’s strident voice calling my name.
Shaking off the shadow, I parted the tapestry and peeked into the dim, secret hall and spied no one.
My heart raced with anxiety mixed with hope. I felt certain I was on the path to finding CeCe. Let it be in time.