Page 36 of Zel (The GriMM Tales #2)

Fourteen

ZEL

Our dearest Rapunzel,

Your father and I await the return of our beloved child with open doors whenever you next darken them. We know the sorcerer will have found you worthy as your final day with him wanes, and we hope to celebrate your marriage soon.

Though little has changed in the day-to-day lives of our friends and neighbors, trust that they miss you dearly, as do we.

-Your Enduring Mother

T he day had come. Everything was set. The coded message from Zel’s parents implied they were ready as well, and that Lothar’s schedule should be as usual, given the wording of “little has changed in the day-to-day.” The hope was to reach Lothar stealthily with minimal encounters, but should fighting commence, Ulrich was a powerhouse, and Zel was confident in his skills with a dagger, as well now in his skills with his hair.

How much easier it would have been to simply blend in and walk freely as guild members with Ulrich disguised as one too, if Zel had not been the most recognizable of members, and everyone knew he should be at the tower—or only returned with the sorcerer's head. They had considered feigning that as well but couldn’t be certain if Lothar would keep the audience private or invite the whole of the guild to celebrate.

With evening on approach, Zel doubted his parents would read a reply letter before events transpired, but he sent one anyway.

Mother & Father,

I will see you soon. I love you both. But please, from now on, call me Zel as others do, for Zel is who I am.

-Your Devoted Child

Ulrich ported them into the city at sunset.

Before they left, Zel used the orb that could see anywhere its wielder had been to check every corridor and room he could within the Thieves Guild.

But although he should have been able to see inside Lothar’s sanctum, since he had been there before, he could not.

One of Lothar’s many trinkets must have been blocking outside magic.

That did not bode well, but they had to trust Zel’s parents were correct that Lothar would be there as usual.

They blinked into existence in a back alley rarely frequented by foot traffic, like the one they had used when heading to Hessen House.

This one was closer to Pied Pipers—Zel’s home, with living quarters above and an entrance into the Thieves Guild through the storeroom.

The shop would be closed for the evening, but all doors would be unlocked, just as Zel’s mother had hinted at when she’d written “open doors.”

Perhaps Zel was being sentimental, but it seemed fitting to wear his pendant from Rudy beneath his remade assassin garb, which he had crafted using the magical loom.

He hadn’t brought his original outfit to the tower, but he had mimicked it with the finer fabrics from Ulrich’s treasure room, made it better, even allowing his hood to be a more vibrant violet because it still blended well with the shadows and Ulrich had said the hue looked lovely on him.

Ulrich donned no base disguise to dull his brilliance but wore a similar outfit to Zel’s to hide the sparkle of his hair and the aura about him that no one could miss when looking upon his visage.

Their outfits were enough that if anyone spotted them darting through the dark, they would assume Thieves Guild assassins and leave them be.

There was still some brightness to the sky as the sun dipped below the horizon, but once Zel had his bearings of which street they had appeared on, he knew the most shadowed paths to reach his home.

They arrived without anyone seeing them, finding the back door unlocked as promised. Inside, everything was still.

“Do you know where your parents might be?” Ulrich whispered.

“They would not want to rouse suspicion, so they could be on missions if they were given any or simply below, waiting on the evening meal with other members. If able to, they will have helped clear the way for us.” Zel was certain of that much, even if they had not been able to speak plainly in their letters.

He led Ulrich quietly through the back of the shop. The storeroom was on the other side, so they passed the stairs leading to the living quarters along the way.

Ulrich paused to look up the steps. He had covered his face, just as Zel had, but his violet eyes still glimmered.

“Up there is where you lived?” he asked.

“All my life.”

“I would have been interested to see your room someday.”

“I would be interested to have you in it.”

“So I can see it?”

“So I can have you in it,” Zel repeated, and pulled Ulrich down to his slighter height, lowering both their masks so he could press a kiss to Ulrich’s lips. “Later,” he promised.

“Yes…” But Ulrich seemed hesitant, distracted.

“Do you doubt we can do this?”

“No guild master could best me, but I am allowed to worry about you, little cabbage.”

That meant the world to Zel. It truly did.

But he knew his worth, and he wasn’t about to falter right on the cusp of having everything he had ever wanted—and much he hadn’t even dared to dream about.

He brandished his dagger with a grin. “Do not doubt my skills any more than you doubt yours. We will win. Then we can be together as we have earned.”

Zel hurried ahead. The storeroom was as quiet as the rest of the shop, but as soon as he lifted the hatch into the undercroft, noise filtered up from the members below.

Zel’s instincts were to pull his braids out from under his cloak and stroke them to calm his nerves, but he should not need such a crutch any longer.

He would succeed.

He was ready for this.

He was fierce and beautiful and capable.

And so was Ulrich.

Zel held a finger to his lips, and Ulrich nodded.

They each pulled their masks back up, and Zel descended first. Ulrich had the power to cast great magic, but anything too flashy might draw attention, and even he might be overwhelmed if the whole of the guild turned on them.

So they snuck, down the ladder and into the belly of the guild.

The undercrofts in general had wards against the use of magical trinkets inside its walls, other than those sanctioned by Lothar.

How much easier this might have been with some of those at their disposal, such as the orb to peer around corners even if not into Lothar’s sanctum, but at least it would take something far more powerful than a mere ward to prevent Ulrich from using his powers.

Zel flattened Ulrich against the wall with an outstretched arm as a pair of guild members moved past the doorway where they stood.

It was a small alcove they were tucked into, a well-known one, but no one should have been headed there to go up unless it was Zel’s own parents.

He and Ulrich waited, and when no voices sounded near, Zel peeked out into the hall and glanced in both directions.

Clear.

Lothar’s audience chamber, his sanctum, was only a few twisting turns of the undercroft halls away, but they needed to pass the entrance into the primary common room to reach it.

Between Zel’s skills and Ulrich’s ability to practically be shadow, their footfalls made no noise, but a single mistake could raise the alarm.

Zel motioned to Ulrich when they neared the common room. He was to sweep Zel past it fast enough that hopefully no one would see them.

“Let’s get him then! He’d hate to miss poultry night!” a voice boomed from inside, as two large shadows neared the inauspicious doorway.

Ulrich’s hand came down upon Zel’s shoulder, and when he glanced back, it was Ulrich who held a finger to his lips.

Silently, he outstretched his arm past Zel, the black and cursed one, and as if from his clawed fingertips, mist formed like violet smoke.

It took on the shape of a slinking cat that approached the door and scurried inside.

“By the depths—!” the same voice exclaimed, for the cat must have darted right past him.

“Catch the beast!” another announced, and the pair could be heard heading deeper inside.

Ulrich kept hold of Zel’s shoulder and coaxed him forward.

When they were but a step from the entrance, a force like a great wind pushing him launched Zel past the opening so swiftly that he nearly gasped.

They paused on the other side of the door, but no sounds came from inside to indicate anyone had spotted them.

Those within were too busy chasing the cat.

It was comforting to have Ulrich’s hand remain as they continued. A phantom cat would not keep the guild members occupied forever, and Zel did not know how long it would stay formed, but they only needed to make it a few more turns.

He kept his ears craned for any signs of someone approaching, but though he would have sworn no one was around the next corner, he was proven wrong when he nearly collided with an ample chest. The buxom woman must also have been an assassin to have moved so silently, but when her faint yelp of surprise turned from confused eyes on Zel, whom she must have recognized even with his face covered, to suspicious ones on Ulrich, Zel punched the hilt-end of his dagger into her windpipe.

As the woman choked and stumbled backward, Ulrich swept in front of Zel and touched his left hand to her forehead.

Zel cringed when she went limp, but he could see her breaths and the pulse in her neck, proving she was only unconscious.

Ulrich tucked her body into a nearby alcove, prompting them to move more swiftly onward before anyone could discover her.

At last, the next turn would take them to the chamber outside Lothar’s sanctum. Ulrich halted Zel again, gesturing past the doorway to a mirror on the opposite wall. With a wave of his fingers, the mirror tilted at an angle that reflected the room.

Two guards, which Zel had expected.

Since there was no one else around, Ulrich cast another spell. They had discussed this one beforehand, but Zel was always in awe of Ulrich’s magic, so much greater than any he had seen before his time at the tower.