Cara hadn't slept. She couldn't, not when someone needed to keep watch. Not when she had people to protect. She wasn't that green Lookout anymore—she was a Prowler. Prowlers look after their own.

The others were groggy when Milo came to collect them. Serious—how did other races get anything done with all that sleeping they needed? Made no sense.

Gramok remained behind, at Milo’s “suggestion”. It made sense—badass or not, Gramok was even noisier than Ted—but from the way Milo said it? Yeah, he was a hostage.

Nammu took his place, dressed in dark leather armor that might pass for work clothes. If you were blind. Which most people are, so maybe that works out.

She guided them through back alleys so clean they sparkled. Not a leaf or twig in sight. Wrong wrong wrong.

No. Focus. One foot in front of the other. She wouldn’t, couldn’t, let this stupid city get to her.

Ahead, Nammu moved like a shadow, her footsteps silent as a leaf drifting on the wind. She moved with a grace that rivaled any wood elf. Would've made a good ranger, that one.

Metal scraped in the distance, growing louder with each passing moment. Cara strained her ears. Were those voices?

Nammu jerked to a halt and held her hand out to the side, her palm outstretched. She snuck forward, peeking around the corner.

Adrenaline flushed Cara’s veins. She pressed her back against cold stone, holding her breath.

The clanking of metal armor and the low murmur of voices grew closer.

Cara risked a glance at Ted. Wide eyes, clenched fists, his entire body coiled and ready to fight. Yup, that’s Ted.

Fighting here would be suicide. Too many enemies, too much magic, not enough trees. Never enough trees in this place.

The noise grew louder. Closer. "...another sweep of the eastern quarter. Captain's orders." The voice rang with the certainty of command. A mage. Had to be.

Cara's fingers twitched, aching for her bow. No, not here, not now. Too risky.

The footsteps neared the end of the street.

Nammu gestured urgently toward a shadowed alley across the way. Cara nodded and nudged Ted.

They crept towards the opening, smooth and swift and silent.

Glass clattered behind Cara. Ice flooded her veins. She spun around around. Kalkarka! The idiot had knocked over a bottle.

The footsteps stopped. "What was that?" A muffled voice this time—one of the soldiers.

Cara's breath caught. Please just let it go...

"Check it out." The mage again. Thorns.

Nammu herded them toward the alley with renewed urgency. They slipped into the narrow passage just as the patrol rounded the corner.

The damp wall pressed against Cara's back. She closed her eyes, praying to the Forest to let the shadows claim her.

Armored footsteps approached.

If the patrol found them, they’d sound the alarm. The mission would end before it truly began. All those slaves, doomed...

The footsteps stopped. Her chest squeezed tight.

An eternity dragged.

And dragged.

And dragged.

The soldier's voice rang out again. "All clear, sir." The footsteps resumed, growing quieter now.

Cara released a shaky breath. Too close. Far too close.

After the metal boots faded to silence, Nammu waved them forward. She led them through winding streets to a squat stone guardhouse wedged between towering buildings. Six spikes lined the front, each topped with a rotting head from a different race.

Bile rose in Cara's throat. "We're stealing from a guardhouse? Are you insane?"

"Of course," Nammu said, acting like they weren’t about to poke a gorilla in the teeth. "That's where the key is."

Ted studied the building, wearing that familiar thinking face of his. "It's heavily fortified. Whoever designed these defenses knew what they were doing."

Nammu pointed to an alley beside the building. "They did, but there's a side entrance on the eastern wall for deliveries. If you can disrupt the magical wards long enough for me to pick the lock, we can slip inside, nice and quiet."

Ted nodded slowly, hesitating. "I'll need to get closer to study the wards.”

Vines gripped Cara's chest. If Ted knew what he was doing, he'd be bouncing at the chance to work his magic, not frowning his little heart out.

No, he'd figure it out. He always did.

"Good." Nammu's smile said she bought it. "Cara and I will stand watch. Keep your bow ready."

Cara's hand found her bow's familiar weight. A nice bow, even if it would never truly be hers.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

And it had magic!

They moved as one into the eastern alley. Cara took the entrance while Nammu covered the far end.

Ted crept to the delivery door, blending with the shadows. He really had gotten so much better at sneaking.

Her heart swelled. That was her teaching that did that. Hers!

Maybe she really was cut out to be a Prowler.

* * *

The lock sat in the door, an ordinary mechanism wrapped in Armor and Absorb spells.

Ted's gut twisted. Something wasn't right.

The rest of the building bristled with meticulous magical defenses, making a simple mechanical lock stand out like a trap. No Telepathy wards either—another red flag.

Ted cast Visibility, and the door lit up like Times Square, magic weaving through it in white, purple, teal, and gold patterns. A black void of power at the center sucked light out of the world, an abyss with enough to kill everyone in the alley.

That went straight to the top of the list of things to worry about.

The purple line of Telepathy magic connecting lock to void spelled it out clear enough—a trigger for a death trap. The keyhole glowed with magical potential, waiting for the right signature. Anything else meant instant death, plus an alarm for good measure.

The complexity rivaled the wood-elven ruins. Ted smiled at the memory. Ten thousand year old poetry had never tried to blow him to pieces.

His fingers twitched, tracing the magical flows. No weaknesses, not that he could see, anyway. Just that void, daring him to screw up.

Without the Magistrate's key, the plan died here. Sweat beaded on his brow. There had to be another way.

The link between lock and void offered the most viable attack surface. The answer lurked in his mind, just out of reach, taunting him. Teasing him with its existence.

Deafen, perhaps?

Deafen spells blocked magical messages, but no. The Absorb magic would trigger the alarm first. Another dead end. The front entrance remained their only option.

What they needed was an edge. A way in without fighting every guard in the city.

He smiled. There it was, staring him in the face.

Ted focused on the Invisibility magic woven through the door's defenses, memorizing its patterns, combining them with all the other examples he’d seen.

The effect took shape in his mind, finally detailed enough to craft a test spell. He drew on his mana and cast a low-potency version on his falchion.

The sword blurred, difficult to focus on.

Telepathy magic skill increased 5 → 6!

So, less Invisibility, more perception filter. Good to know. He tried it again with a higher potency, and his sword remained hard to focus on, but not by much. He placed it down on the floor, and vanished until the spell expired. Interesting.

Further tests revealed that, while the Invisibility effect itself and any caried magical items went invisible, any active spells still lit up under Discern Magic. That could be fixed by adding an Area component—but that would shoot up the mana cost of an already expensive spell.

Ted spent a point on Efficiency, cutting the mana cost by twenty percent, and crafted a Continuous Touch version just barely within the limits of his mana regeneration.

He beckoned Cara and Nammu closer. "I can't break the wards without triggering an alarm, but I can turn one of you invisible to grab the key."

Nammu's eyes widened. "I'll do it. I know the layout best. I'll go during the watch change."

"No." Cara gripped her bow tighter. "I'm faster and quieter."

Both women stared at him, waiting. Ted's gut twisted. Cara's skills fit better, and that glare wouldn't take no for an answer.

"Cara goes. Nammu can guide you through. But be careful! If anything goes wrong—"

"I know, I know. I'll be careful."

* * *

Nammu kept her voice professional as she explained the plan, but the odd sharp tone made it crystal clear she wasn't happy about it.

The plan was simple enough—up the stairs, through the door at the end of the hall, grab the key off the keychain of a passed out lieutenant (courtesy of a spiked drink from another Resistance agent).

Easy.

But now they had to wait.

Torture. Literal torture. Cara shifted from foot to foot, her insides twisting into knots. This was their chance to make a difference in this Forest-forsaken place. She had to get it right.

Nammu's hushed voice blurred into an indistinct drone. The guardhouse layout. Right. Cara jabbed her nails into her palm, trying to force the details to stick. This was important! She couldn't let them all down. Not like that time—

Wait. No. Focus! No room for stupid mistakes.

Three guards. Room at the end. Hadn't Nammu already said that?

Ted tapped his fingers again, shooting glances at her every time he thought she wasn't looking. Like she was going to screw this up and get eveyone killed.

Cara gently nudged him, savoring the contact. "We've got this," she said. "Just leave it to me."

Nammu narrowed her eyes. "Remember: quick and quiet. I'm happy to do it, if you'd rather."

Cara shook her head. "I'll get that key without a hitch. You'll see."

Footsteps echoed up the street. Heavy, metallic—soldiers. Cara tensed up, ready to spring into action. This was it, the changing of the watch.

Ted wove the Invisibility spell and touched her arm. "Za-enshka do ri!"

The magic tingled across her skin, her arms hard to focus on. Weird, but kinda cool.

He looked her in the eyes, biting his top lip. "Stay safe."

"I will." She sucked in a deep breath and slipped out into the street.

Three guards ambled towards the guardhouse door, their ill-fitting armor showing gaps she could exploit if it came to that. Their movements sluggish, clumsy. Tired.

Good. An advantage.

She crept past the putrid spiked heads, her stomach churning, and slipped into the guardhouse behind the guards.

Warm, damp air enveloped her, a welcome change from the outside chill. Dull magical light illuminated a battered wooden table in the center of the room, three guards hunched around it, engrossed in a dice game. Two slouched, their meager piles of coin dwarfed by the third's hoard.

Thorns ripped at her insides. Aidan used to fleece people like that...

No. Not now.

The new guards ambled over, jeering at their comrades. This was her chance!

She flew up the spiral staircase in the corner, bounding from step to step, praying she wouldn't collide with anyone descending.

Made it. She reached the top, a narrow corridor devoid of windows, illuminated by an unnatural glow. Unadorned wooden doors lined either side, framing the larger, gaudily decorated door at the far end of the hall. Between the side doors hung portraits of robed men with stiff postures, all standing in front of the same dull wall.

Laughter echoed from below, heavily muffled. A weak Deafen effect.

She slunk down the hall, dagger drawn, braced for an ambush.

Nothing. The hall was utterly silent. No indication anyone up here was even alive, much less awake.

At the end of the corridor, she paused. Could they really trust the Resistance? Nammu seemed like a good one, but that didn't mean they could all be trusted.

This plan had too many ways to go wrong.

Cara adjusted her grip on her dagger and refocused. This was her shot to make a real difference. She couldn't afford to screw it up worrying about things beyond her control.

She eased the door open and slid inside, shutting it with equal care. Dim light from a high window cast long shadows across the floor. A large wooden desk dominated the room, covered in papers and parchment. Sprawled across it was a man—the lieutenant—out cold.

There! The key, peeking out from under him, hung around his neck.

Not ideal. If he woke up, the plan was toast. Even if she took him out quickly and quietly, they'd find the dead body, realize his key was gone, and report it.

She couldn't afford to shoot the bow and listen, not if she wanted to save all those slaves. There wouldn't be a do-over this time, and no one else was here to save her from her screw-ups.

Her insides quivered as she approached the desk, shifting her dagger to her off-hand. Heart in her throat, she reached for the key.

So far, so good. Just ease it out then get out. Easy.

Right?

Her fingers closed around the cold metal. The lieutenant's eyes snapped open. His hand shot out, grabbed her by the wrist.

Her heart stuttered. The magical tingle was gone. Trap!

"What do we have here?" His grip tightened. "Guards! Intruder!"