Page 16 of A Court of Wings and Shadows

“You want to infiltrate the dungeon tonight, don’t you?” Tae said, stepping closer.

“Yes.” I didn’t hesitate. “We know the next guard rotation is in forty minutes. That’s the best time to go in.”

“I can get you in,” Zander said quietly from behind me.

“No.” I turned toward him. “You can’t be anywhere near this. You’re a royal.”

Before he could argue, Tae grabbed a dark shirt from his wardrobe and pulled it over his head.

“Then I’ll go,” Tae said. “I know the castle almost as well as Zander. We just have to get to the lower levels.”

“I know a way,” I said, reaching into my memory. “Siergen showed me an access tunnel into the castle, but we’ll have to go one level deeper than the vaults.”

Zander’s gaze locked on mine, eyes sharp. “That was you.”

I stilled.

The night of the vault infiltration. I’d been fast, silent. A shadow in the dark.

“Yes,” I admitted. “I saw you. You were with your sister.”

His eyes flickered, just a flash of something softer, more human.

“She’s beautiful,” I added.

“Yes. She is,” he whispered.

Something passed between us then. Not quite understanding. Not quite grief. But recognition, maybe.

And beneath it all, a storm still waited.

Forty minutes. One plan.

We gathered around Cordelle’s cot, maps and schematics spread out in front of us, illuminated by a single glowstone perched on the edge of his bunk. Every voice was low. Every breath tense.

“There are four guards posted near the dungeon entry,” Cordelle whispered. “They rotate every two hours. Next shift begins in approximately thirty-six minutes.”

“We’ll have a narrow window,” Tae said, arms crossed over his chest. “Once we’re inside, we don’t stay longer than thirty minutes. Any more than that and we risk being caught mid-shift.”

Zander leaned over the map, one finger dragging across the lower levels of the castle. “I can cause a disturbance. Something big enough to pull the guards from their posts about an hour after you infiltrate.”

I looked at him, brow lifting. “How exactly are you planning to do that?”

His lips curved into that arrogant, infuriating smile that somehow never quite met his eyes. “Trust me.”

I narrowed my gaze. “That’s not comforting.”

“But it’ll work,” he said simply.

We hammered out the details for the next thirty minutes, convinced that there was nothing more we could do but try.

Tae and I slipped into the shadowed corridor under the battlements, moving like phantoms toward the concealed entry. I led him past the rows of private rooms, the damp air thick with stone and moss.

“There,” I whispered, pointing to the wall-mounted sconce embedded with an illumination crystal. Its light flickered faintly, like it held its breath.

I reached out, gripping the cool iron and twisting it clockwise.

The wall groaned in protest. A soft click echoed through the corridor, and then the stone shifted, turning slowly on its axis until a narrow, dark passageway yawned before us.