The armory smelled of oil, leather, and cold iron — a mix that for Caleb had always meant home.
The stolen key slid into the lock with a whisper, the heavy latch yielding under his hand. The room beyond was dim, lined with racks of spears and shields, bundles of arrows stacked like cordwood.
And there, at the far wall, on a stand that looked more like a shrine than storage — his bow.
He crossed the floor in three careful steps, the crate still balanced on his shoulder for cover. He reached out, fingers trembling… and froze.
A chain. A single black-steel link ran through the bow's grip, anchored to the wall. An enchantment shimmered faintly over it — one he didn't recognize. Cutting it would make noise. Breaking the magic would make worse.
His jaw tightened. This would take longer than planned.
Across the yard, Eliakim knelt by the loose stone, Gideon shielding him with casual bulk while Ezra played up an argument with a guard about ration quality.
The stone came free with a muffled scrape. Eliakim slid inside — and stopped.
The shaft beyond had collapsed halfway down. Timber beams rotted through, earth spilled in like wet clay. Only a narrow air gap ran along the top, barely enough for a man to drag himself through.
Too slow.
The break had to happen tonight, but this bottleneck would choke them. He couldn't dig it alone without drawing attention. They'd need…
He glanced toward the stables, where Skyling's form shifted under the weight of the null-binders. Her claws could tear through this faster than any tool — if he could free her.
Back in the armory, Caleb worked fast. He'd spotted a ring of keys on the far wall, each marked with a tag in Elvish script. He moved toward them, glancing over his shoulder. A guard's shadow moved past the door, paused, then kept going.
He found the tag marked with the rune for "vault restraint" and slid it free. The bow's chain loosened with a creak that made his pulse spike.
He lifted it from the stand like it was the first breath after drowning — and slid it under the crate's false bottom.
Eliakim replaced the stone just as the guard's boots clicked down the hall. His mind raced. He needed Skyling in the tunnel, but the cuffs…
That's when Caleb reappeared, slipping through the barracks door with the same easy swagger as if he'd been gone only minutes. His eyes caught Eliakim's, and just the faintest nod passed between them.
The bow was back.
One problem solved. But the bigger one — a half-buried escape route — was still waiting under their feet.
Far above them, in the exiled queen's mist-cloaked sanctuary, Captain Vaeryn Solthir stood before her map table, tracing lines between strongholds. He was still smiling faintly when the messenger arrived with news:
"The prisoners' work details have been… irregular today."
Vaeryn's brow lifted. "Irregular?"
The messenger nodded. "They are up to something."
Vaeryn looked down at the map — and moved one carved marker closer to the prison.