Chapter 69

Held Tight

Femira crept silently through the Palace halls. If she weren’t so swept up in the concern for Landryn she would have been disappointed in how easy it was to infiltrate. Seriously, the flaws in the Pillar Palace security needs to be addressed. Although she did have some slight advantages over an everyday burglar. Firstly, that Annali Jahar had clearance for most parts of the Palace gave her a very favourable safety net so when she did stumble across some guards they didn’t question her. In fact, one had even saluted her.

And secondly—possibly more emminently—she had the exceptionally convenient ability to walk through fucking walls! And this wasn’t dissolving a wall, stepping through and then crudely reforming it as a smoothed piece, no, no. That would be far too obvious. She could recreate the wall exactly as it had been before.

She stepped up to the wall, glanced down the hall to see if there was anyone. It was clear. She placed a hand on the wall, and felt the vibrations of the stone underneath. Could feel the depth of the wall through to the other side. This was where her skill came into play. She pushed her face forward, dissolving the rock and absorbing every bit of it until her nose poked out on the other side, followed closely by the rest of her face. The hallway on the other side was illuminated by decorative gaslamps. Her eyes quickly scanned the hallway and landed on a pair of guards further down. She pulled her face back and reformed the wall perfectly. Most of the Palace had originally been stoneshaped so it wasn’t hard to reform it back into its original appearance. She did have to avoid the more opulent parts of the walls where the original stoneshaper had taken a more artistic approach to their construction.

Femira tested a few areas like this, teasing the easiest place. Femira had clearance to be in the parts of the Palace where the War Council was held along with the offices of the various Generals and military Highlords. Landryn’s office however was not kept in this area. The uppermost floors of the Pillar were reserved for the Royal family and the most important dignitaries. It added a mildly additional difficulty to sneak into it.

Femira just had to be wary of the Royal guards—all of whom would be skilled runewielders and could likely sense her edir if she didn’t contain it carefully. Some of them will be soulforged too. She knew that some of the bloodshedders had been reallocated into Landryn’s personal guard. Would it not have made more sense to get one of them to spy on Landryn? Maybe Garld simply trusted her more than any of them. That thought gave her a small swell of pride.

Getting to the upper levels hadn’t been difficult as Garld had the authorisation to clear her for those floors. This clearance however only permitted her into the main areas and hallways. The Royal chambers and offices were all behind a few layers of security. She’d done a round of the hallways surrounding these, testing the other side at various points. Each time she quickly pulled back as there was someone on the other side. She was averse to doing another round as the guards on this side might start getting suspicious of her lurking around. She thought about potentially going a floor above to see if she could drop in from the ceiling but extending her edir above she could sense that the depth of the ceilings was considerable. She could do it, but she would tunnelling deep with little guarantee of dropping out at the right spot.

Garld had instructed her that Landryn’s office was on the outer parts of the pillar and had a balcony that overlooked the city. She’d wanted to avoid climbing out and along the side of the Pillar as the larger walkways that ringed the Palace on the lower levels would have a clear view of her. In general, guards tended to be oblivious but it was a substantial risk doing it in broad daylight.

Femira followed a hallway down towards a window and looked out. It was still a few hours from sunset but she decided that waiting until nightfall and then climbing out and around was the best path to take to avoid any detection.

Resolved to wait it out, she returned to the lower levels. She decided to loiter in a more inculpable area on one of the gardened balconies. Just a girl wandering the Palace gardens. Nothing suspicious in that, nope. Purely innocent, my friend.

She let her mind drift back to her conversation with Garld earlier that day. Now that she was out of his office, she felt the unsavoury taste of guilt at spying on Landryn rise up in her. She’d noticed this happen before when speaking with Garld. Her emotions would slip away from her. Once again, she suspected him of using a mindstone. But maybe he was just made very convincing arguments.

Misandrei had given her some basic training in resisting mindstone runewielders. She said that they couldn’t read your thoughts or change them, but they could manipulate your emotions. She said the most important thing to remember was that if your emotion was to abruptly shift, it was likely a mindstone user trying to make you feel that way. The biggest defence against mindstone manipulation was simply identifying it happening, in most cases that knowledge was a defence that crumbled any mindstone effects. “The edir is a lot stronger inside your own body,” Misandrei had taught her, “even the strongest mindstone user would have difficulty manipulating a person’s emotions if they’re aware of it happening. Their edir would naturally work against it.”

“So the edir is like a natural defence to this?” Femira had probed.

“Not exactly,” Misandrei had replied, “in truth, the mindstone works by manipulating one’s own edir against them. It’s confusing, I know. But it’s the same with bloodstone, it’s almost impossible to use runewielding inside of another person’s body. You need to physically touch them to break that barrier. Mindstone and bloodstone work by manipulating your target’s edir and guiding it to your will. With bloodstone it is the physical body, manipulating your own edir to the will of another and then using the power of the bloodstone to make changes to the body. When a healing is done, it’s your own edir doing the healing but guided by the healer with the bloodstone. The same applies to mindstone, it’s your own edir manipulating your emotions, only your edir is being controlled by an external force. This is why recognising this is happening is so important. Your edir will instinctively resist that control if you’re aware that it’s happening.”

She didn’t like the idea that Garld could be manipulating her emotions. It was illogical too, the man was already a specialist in both bloodstone and soulstone so he would need to be some kind of prodigy to be skilled in the three. Even so, she decided that she should be a bit more wary around the man.

“I don’t see you in the gardens often,” Femira heard Daurond’s voice. Her fake cousin was dressed in orange silks and was interlinking his arm with a young handsome man. Daurond let go of the man and politely shooed him away, leaving him and Femira alone in the gardens.

“I’m not usually in the Palace,” she replied, “but I had business here so decided to look around.”

“Well, it is a delight to see you, dear cousin. You simply must come visit me,” he flashed her one of his bright smiles, “I do however have an engagement I must attend to, but come by my quarters this week. There are some things I would like to discuss with you.” And with that comment, Daurond was gone as quickly as he appeared, linking back in with the man waiting nearby.

Things I need to discuss with you. The comment left her feeling apprehensive. Did anyone suspect her of being an imposter that he was going to warn her about? Or perhaps, this was what Vestyr had warned her of. He’d told her that the various nobles in the Palace would begin to seek her out now that she was becoming a person of importance. Either way she didn’t particularly like it. She missed Jaz and Aden. She missed her training sessions with Misandrei—even the sessions with Endrin and Loreli. But they were all off on assignment. She admonished herself for forgetting to press Garld about where Aden had been sent to—and more importantly—when he would return. Aden was a wealth of knowledge for her. And she didn’t doubt he would have some insights into the fomori.

She would have to make do with sparring with Vestyr for now—and whoever else amongst the bloodshedders might be willing. She realised that lingering around the gardens was a perfect opportunity for more Highborn to approach her and she didn’t particularly feel like speaking with any of them. Not while she was on an assignment. She found a reclusive bench hidden away behind some trees and waited for nightfall in peace, watching the wind rustle through the leaves and listening to the birds. It’s nice to actually relax for once.

Femira leapt lightly onto the balcony. She left the handholds on the exterior of the Pillar in place, deciding not to bother reforming them until she climbed back that way when she was done. There was a chill to the breeze this high up the Pillar that reminded Femira of the cold winter winds in Alterea.

Landryn’s office balcony was long and wrapped around a significant portion of the Pillar, she could envisage Landryn sitting out here in a meditative position and honing his windshaping abilities. The door to the office was a lacquered wooden frame with glass. It was also locked which was no surprise. The lock, she could sense with her edir, was entirely wood. It was decent security, but was ultimately all useless as the walls were stone.

Peeking through the glass she could see that the office was empty. Unless someone was sitting in the dark waiting for a spy. She was confident that there wasn’t. She sidestepped and reached out her edir to the stone wall. Much of the Palace was carved right into the Pillar itself but the uppermost portion was too narrow so many of the higher floors were constructed around it. Her edir senses told her that the wall was about fifteen inches thick. Without breaking stride she stepped through the wall, dissolving it to nothing. The stone material rushed around her in a wave of dust and debris and then reformed immaculately behind her. She grinned. Far too easy. She’d been hoping that the upper levels were all constructed by wood. That would’ve at least been a little bit of a challenge.

The room inside was unlit. Underneath her black uniform her chest was glowing with the light of runewielding. She thought back fondly to the days she would use the dim light of her earthstone to navigate through dark rooms she’d broken into. She focused edir inward, guiding the power of the earthstone inside of her to her hand. Her hand began to glow with a soft amber light. I suppose this works too. Powers to reshape the earth and defeat ancient demons are handy but also make for a very useful lamp.

Her instructions had been to simply sift through Landryn’s letters to look for anything incriminating from the various Highborn houses. She made for the desk and began rummaging through the drawers. Anything that looks like it’s trying to blame Daegan Tredain’s murder on the bloodshedders. She found Averstock’s seal easily enough on an opened letter.

Prince Landryn,

My deepest condolences for the loss of your brother, Daegan. Although I did not know him well personally, I am aware that he was a fine gentleman and he will be greatly missed amongst the noble houses, I am sure. I am grateful that Rhianne can be at your side during this incredibly difficult time, House Averstock will always and forever be House Tredain’s closest ally. I treat this loss as painfully I was would a member of my own house. Rest assured, that any and all resources you require are at your disposal to bring the culprits of this crime against Reldon to justice.

I would also like to offer my sincerest gratitude for your valiant efforts in eradicating the fomori threat from the shores of my lands. The Tidewall is often overlooked as a vulnerability in our nation's defence and I am eternally grateful for your commitment. It will not be forgotten.

Faithfully,

Edwin of House Averstock, Highlord of the Tidewall.

Femira scoffed. Who signs off like that with their official title to their son-in-law? The whole letter read to Femira as faff. Sorry your brother’s dead. Didn’t know him and didn’t really care to. A reminder that we have an alliance and thanks for sorting out my pest problem. There didn’t look to be anything incriminating in the letter but Femira memorised the wording all the same to report back to Garld. Perhaps there was something in the words that gave a more subtle indication of subterfuge.

She sifted through more letters of condolences from the noble houses. Houses Darine, Loale, Worthe and Lamgan were all similarly written. The letter from the Highlord of House Mattice—the very same General Mattice that got Sadrian Graves killed in that duel with the Honorsword all those months ago—had a suspicious note in it:

I trust that you agree we must take a firm hand with our justice. The Dukes of Rubane must pay the cost for this insult to our crown in blood.

That was the most aggressive statement she’d found, however as she read through more she could see that almost all of them were under the belief that it was the Dukes of Rubane that were responsible. Some expressed shock at Ferath Vitare’s betrayal but not a single one seemed to call out the bloodshedders as potential culprits. Perhaps Garld was mistaken? Or could it be that Garld is being a little paranoid and overly-cautious in sending her?

Finally at the bottom of the stack she found a letter from Landryn’s own family members. Landryn’s mother had passed away soon after giving birth to Allyn and with Daegan deceased that left only his sister, Allyn, his elder brother Lukane and their father, King Abhran. There was no letter from Allyn or the King but there was one from Lukane;

Landryn,

Now is not the time for foolishness. We must act decisively. Father has summoned us to council before we meet with the War Council.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Lukane.

A bit blunt. Lukane didn’t seem that cut up about the death of their brother or perhaps he just wasn’t that poetic a man. He sounds like an ass. She’d only ever seen Lukane and the King once, at the feast celebrating the bloodshedders victory at Innish Head. Even then, she’d not spoken directly with either the King or his heir.

The other thing that Garld had wanted her to do was to recover Elyina’s journal. I wonder why Landryn didn’t give it to him straight away. From what Femira knew Elyina’s journals were the only reliable source of information they had on how soulforging worked. You’d think Landryn would want the man actually doing the soulforgings to have this. Considering the lengths Averstock had taken to keep the journal he had hidden, she suspected that Landryn would keep it similarly secured.

She checked over the desk and a number of hidden pressure release compartments. Some were empty and others had various documents that she left untouched. One had a store of runestones that she had to actively resist the urge to pocket. No journals. She checked over the bookshelves. There were stacks of books on military tactics, and advanced runewielding. Her eyes scanned over all of them looking for anything out of place. Rich people don’t actually read as much as they want people to believe they do. And Landryn—as much as she liked the man—was as rich as they come. She smirked as she noted which books didn’t have a layer of dust on them. The Founding of Reldon and Elyina’s Crusade were two that didn’t seem to have anything hidden inside. Both were reasonably topics that Landryn would have an interest in if he’d been researching the fomori before their mission to the Tidewall. She also noticed that Myths & Legends: The Fomori of the Black Sands looked to have been heavily worn from multiple readings.

The very suspicious book that wasn’t covered in dust was Military Logistics: Calculating Cost Estimates. That was the winner. Not a hope in hells anyone would casually pick this up for some light reading. Unsurprisingly, when she tried to open it she found that it was, in fact, a fake. Shocker!

It was a rudimentary puzzle lock to open and Femira found herself disappointed in Landryn’s lack of ingenuity here. She pressed the last bit into place and… nothing? Hmmm. Maybe not so disappointing. She tried a few other patterns but nothing. Then she tried reaching out with her edir and still nothing. What kind of lock was this thing?

A part of her wanted to just smash the thing apart but it was also too risky without knowing what was inside. Besides, that would be too clear of an indicator of a break-in for Femira’s tastes. The best part is waiting to see how long it is before anyone even realises they’ve been robbed. She was about to try again at the box when she felt Landryn’s familiar edir approach the door. Her eyes snapped open, pushed the fake book back into place and bolted for the balcony door. She then remembered that she didn’t come that way. The door swung open and she panicked backing up to the stone wall. Fuck, fuck. Wait. She could just… She extended out her edir behind her.

Landryn stormed into the room followed closely by Rhianne. He ignited the gaslamps which illuminated the office but also—thankfully—cast the area Femira was in into a deeper shadow. Femira sunk into the stone wall behind her. She didn’t want to risk backing into another room so instead of reforming the wall exactly as it had been, she shaped the stone around her body. She enclosed herself entirely in the stone—well, almost entirely. She faced her head slightly to the side so that one eye was still poking out from the wall and hoped that the shadows would keep her from being discovered. She then restrained her edir, containing it completely inside of her.

It was an uncomfortable feeling being completely restrained by the stone wall, the rock pressing against her muscles. When she breathed in, her chest pushed against the immovable stone. She found it peculiar that she didn’t feel in any way claustrophobic by being confined. Perhaps it was because deep down her body knew that she could dissolve the stone whenever she wished to. She’d only been runewielding a few years, she wouldn’t have thought that it was long enough for her instincts to completely re-adjust but maybe that was simply part of what soulforging did to you.

“I won’t stand for it, Rhianne!” Landryn snarled. His words sounded muffled to Femira’s trapped ears. She watched as another two highborn women followed after Rhianne.

“Leave us,” Rhianne said to the newcomers and waved them off. They all but leapt at her command.

“Now is the time to act, my dear,” Rhianne said appeasingly but didn’t approach Landryn. He’d changed out of his travel garb and was now dressed in a pressed black military suit. The calm demeanour he’d held onto earlier was now falling apart, his anger and rage evident on his face.

“And do as your father wishes?” He said accusingly, “invade Rubane?!”

“The Highlords are angry, just as you are. We are all grieving.”

“No!” Landryn shouted. “No, you’re not! None of you are! None of you even knew him. The Highlords are greedy and want to exploit the invasion for their own profit under the cover of loyalist vengeance. Do not play me for a fool, Rhianne!” Femira could feel the vehement sting in his words. She did not envy Rhianne’s position.

“Be careful how you speak with me, husband,” Rhianne said with an icy tone. Femira didn’t need to extend her edir to feel the swath of Landryn’s edir pour over the room, drawing in the air around him.

“Go,” Landryn growled. “Get out!” Rhianne must’ve been able to feel the change in the atmosphere of the room because she quickly fled, slamming the door after her.

With Landryn’s edir now pulling erratically at the air, Femira felt a sudden spike of panic that he might sense her presence. But he was too distracted by his own emotion to notice her.

The wind picked up, swirling loose papers as it did so, and began building rapidly. Books were lifted up from the shelves, and then the chairs and the desk itself were all swept up in the tempest. Even muffled, Femira could hear the rushing of the wind and the clattering crashes of objects being thrown about the room.

Landryn paced about, trembling, as the gusts grew stronger and stronger. The winds circled about Landryn in a frenzy, wreaking havoc on the office until eventually the force of the gales shattered the windows.

The room went still, the air rushing out of it in an instant. Books and furniture all dropped abruptly in haphazard heaps, loose bits of paper fell slowly like confetti. Femira remained frozen, watching with dismay as Landryn collapsed to his knees. The man bent over onto his hands and began shaking with the intensity of a person vomiting.

The stone holding Femira in place turned to dust at her command. She tentatively stepped out from the wall. Landryn didn’t notice her. He simply remained where was, his entire body trembling with emotion. Slowly, Femira stepped over the books and papers, making her way towards him. As she approached, he looked up and their eyes met. There was so much pain in them. Femira felt her own visage crack at the sight of him, her chest tightening. She hated it. She hated seeing him suffer like this.

Landryn looked down at his hands, and he continued to cry without a sound. She remembered only a week before when their roles had been reversed. It had been Femira who had been unable to control the pain of her memory. Just as Landryn had done for her, Femira knelt beside him and took him in her arms. The weight of him pressed against her, his whole body trembled. She pulled his head to her chest and felt the cloth of her shirt grow damp with his tears and hot breath. Holding him in her arms, she swayed gently back and forth.

She took deep steadying breaths. Holding him in that position, Femira waited for Landryn to stop, to say something… but he didn’t. So she kept on waiting. Femira continued to take deep, reassuring breaths. Reminded Landryn that he wasn’t alone. His body felt so strong in her arms yet he was so vulnerable. The heat of him against her was a contrast to the chill breeze flowing in from the broken windows. She took comfort in his warmth and found herself hoping that he felt the same.

She rested her head on top of his. The smell of his hair filled her nose. She was intoxicated by it but she didn’t dare to move. He was like a bird with a broken wing and she feared that any movement would send him in a stumbling flight from her.

Eventually, Landryn’s body stopped trembling and she realised that he was sleeping, his head heavy against her chest. As gently as she could, Femira lay him on his side on the carpeted floor. Then kneeling on all fours next to him, she leaned down and kissed his cheek. The bristle of his hair growth tickled her lips.

It felt wrong to leave him there like that. After everything he’d just been through. Femira looked about the destroyed room, rose to her feet and turned the knobs on the gaslamps plunging it into darkness. Her eyes adjusted a moment later to the soft light of the moons streaming in from the empty window panes.

She lightly stepped back to where Landryn was sleeping and lay down next to him. Femira wrapped her arms around his shoulders and tucked her face into his back. The soft fabric of his shirt and the warmth of his skin beneath lulling her into sleep.

***

Femira stirred at one stage in the night and felt arms around her. Her face resting against the soft carpet. In a half-dazed state, she glanced over her shoulder and could see Landryn’s face in a deep sleep. The warmth of his body covered her back and encompassed her. She allowed herself to be pulled back into her slumber.

***

Femira woke a few hours later to Landryn slowly rising to an upright position. The murky blue light of an approaching dawn was visible through the windows. Femira opened her mouth to speak but then found she couldn’t find the words for what to say.

“Thank you,” Landryn whispered to her, “I… ” he trailed off.

“It’s alright,” she wasn’t sure how she would explain what she was doing in his office but he never asked. Landryn was quiet then for a moment.

“What was he like?” Femira eventually asked, “your brother?”

“He was… ” a sad smile crossed his face, “a lot smarter than people gave him credit for.” Landryn’s smile was genuine, “He’d convince you to bet everything you had in a game that he’d just made up the rules to… He could also hold his drink better than anyone I know…” his words trailed off.

“What would you say to him now, if you could?”

“I’d say that I’m sorry,” his word’s broke again, “I’d say that I wish I had done more for him. That I should have been there for him… That I should never have left him alone.”

Landryn went on to tell her more of what Daegan had been like. The games they’d played as children. They’d been so close as boys and had been separated when Daegan’s affliction had become known.

Landryn told her of the tortuous methods his father had employed in Daegan’s training. Landryn said that he’d always thought it was to spark a response in Daegan’s edir, but as he got older he could see that it was simply his father’s cruelty and malice that had driven the man to it. Landryn was convinced that Abhran saw his own failings as a father and as a King reflected in Daegan’s inability and had punished the boy for it. Femira was surprised at how much reflection Landryn had already given the topic. One of the things he seemed to regret most was never speaking to Daegan about it. Never confiding in him or allowing his brother a safe place to talk about it.

Landryn then spoke of his sister, Allyn. How she had tried to mend the bridge between Landryn and Daegan. Then he spoke of his mother, how caring and kind she’d been in the hazy memories of his early life.

Femira continued to let him speak and after a while, Landryn had burned himself out.

“Thank you, Annali,” he said, placing a hand on hers. Femira frowned and he had taken the expression as an offence and tried to pull his hand back. She gripped it with her other hand.

“It’s Femira,” she said, watching his face as it scrunched in confusion.

“My name is Femira.”

Understanding was slow to cross his face as the realisation of what she was telling him sunk in. After a moment he was nodding. “That… that makes sense.”

“I’m sorry for lying to you.” About who I was. About Daegan… about everything.

“So… who are you, Femira?” His hand felt warm cupped in hers and she felt his other hand resting on top. The two of them knelt in the middle of the destroyed room, their hands interlocked. He didn’t hate her. He didn’t blame her.

“I… I don’t know,” she answered truthfully and shrugged, “I’m just… me?”

Bright rays of the morning sun crept into the room. They touched his face and accentuated the contours of it.

“I would like to get to know you better, Femira,” Landryn said, his smile reaching his eyes for the first time.

Swept up in a rush of passion, Femira grabbed Landryn’s head and pulled him towards her. The lips met and she melted into him. Their faces pressed against one another, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pushed her body against his. She felt heat rush through her.

After a few moments they broke apart, faces less than an inch apart. Their breaths heavy. Awkwardly, she laughed, her smile genuine. He was laughing now too and she could feel the warmth of his breath on her face again.

Then there was a knock at the door.

The sharp noise wrenched them both from their moment of passion. Landryn gently stepped back from her and she stood straight and adjusted her uniform and patted her hair flat. It was obvious that she had slept there.

“I should go,” she said looking back to the balcony.

“Who is it?” Landryn called out.

“Ceren, my lord,” a man’s voice called through the door.

“Come in,” Landryn replied, and then surveyed the damage he’d done to his office the night before.

The door opened and a broad shouldered man stepped in, he was garbed in the uniform of the Royal guard. The same uniform that Drad used to wear. Similar to hers but his was both red and black whereas hers was all black. Ceren’s eyes landed suspiciously on her, and then realising she was not a threat, his eyes quickly took in the ruined office with alarm.

“Is everything alright, my lord?” he asked with urgency, his eyes darting about looking for intruders.

“Nothing that you can assist with. This was my own doing,” Landryn replied, “what is the matter?”

“Uh, the Prince-heir has summoned you, my lord” he responded nervously, not entirely sure what he’d intruded into, “he says you are to join him and the King in the Throneroom.”

“Tell them I will be there shortly,” Landryn responded.

“Um, apologies, my lord. Prince Lukane was quite adamant that I escort you there personally, you understand?”

“I do, Ceren. Not to worry, I will come, allow me first to change,” Landryn walked towards the door, “you can escort me first to my chambers.”

Landryn then looked back at Femira and gave her a warm smile, “we can continue our conversation later?” He posed it as a question for her but he didn't need to, Femira had every intention of resuming what they’d started. She nodded, a smirk pulling at her mouth. Landryn departed and Ceren gave her one last curious look, then another confused glance over the room before nodding to her and following after the Prince.

Left alone, Femira let out a long breath and looked about the ruined office herself. I suppose I can just use the door now? It didn’t seem like Landryn had any intention of hiding the fact that she had stayed the night there. Maybe I should still climb out… just in case. She made her way towards the balcony and her foot stepped on a fallen book.

She looked down and realised that the bindings were familiar. Leaning down she hefted it into her arms and inspected the cover. It was an unusual blue leather with a strange pattern emblazoned on the front.

She recognised it. But she wasn’t sure from where… The colour. She realised. The first time she’d seen it, the book had been bathed in the ambient purple light of the stormstone cache in Altarea. This was the book that she'd found all those months ago that night she’d broken into the Altarean Palace. The night where this had all started. It felt oddly strange seeing it here now. She opened up the first page, she could read it now that she’d been taught Reldoni letters from Aden.

The Art of Soulforging

A memoir of King Ediňar, First Khandāmos of Reldȏn

King Edinar? She’d never heard of him before. Queen Elyina had been the founding monarch of Reldon. She also had no idea what a Khandamos was.

She glanced around the room and considered for a moment. She was still a thief after all. She held onto the tome and made her way back to the balcony. She hadn’t planned on stealing anything larger than Elyina’s journal which would have fit inside her shirt. This book however was too bulky for that. Climbing along her handholds with it might prove a little too difficult. Leave the book and climb back? Or take the front door? She looked back at the book and decided her curiosity was too great.

She strode towards the door.