Chapter 10: Chapter 7 Overcoming Obstacles

“Investigate that building, something startled those pigeons. Corporal, find out what it was and report back to me!” a watchman commanded

“Yes, sir!” The unseen corporal complied. 

Lyzander heard the sound of running footsteps and jostling metal while he dangled over the open abyss of the collapsed building. He glanced down, his cheek pressed against his shoulder because his arms were at full extension. He could clearly see the front door of the derelict dwelling broken on its hinges.

Fuck, it’s now or never. The corporal is going to easily detect me in the moonlight as soon as they arrive at the entrance. I have to risk it.

Lyzander tentatively released one handhold, abruptly lilting to the side. He feared losing his grip from the swaying as he brought his other hand to his lips. He placed two fingers inside his mouth and shrilly whistled, quickly regaining his grip and scrambling over the ledge.

Not a moment too soon, the corporal just missed catching sight of him as he arrived at the door. The burly guardsman booted the frame, shattering the door of its hinges and propelling it across the bird-shit-coated floor. He made to step through the entryway, stooping his head below the splintered wood.

“Hey, pigs!” Dingle’s voice was distantly heard from down the street.

A rock hit the corporal square in the jaw. The unexpected impact knocked him stumbling, catching himself against the doorframe. The pelting of rocks against the muck and wooden houses could be heard barraging the other officers outside.

“Cease and desist! If you brats continue, we’ll beat you trash to a pulp!” the guard’s threats outside were completely ignored.

The corporal took shelter inside, only briefly scanning the room. He missed Lyzander peeking from his hiding place on the roof of the neighbouring building. The guard instead quickly poked his head outside before pulling back inside, rocks flying in through the doorway where his head had been a moment before. The officer pulled something from inside his uniform collar attached to a leather cord. 

Lyzander caught a flash of metal in the moonlight as the guard pressed the brass whistle to his lips and leaned forward in preparation. The moment his head appeared in the opening to blow, a rock came out of nowhere and smashed into the guard’s temple. He crumpled bonelessly, his weight splintering the rotted-out floorboards beneath him. 

As the watchman fell unconscious through the floor, the cord around his neck became exposed to Lyzander’s vantage point. Lyzander rubbed his hands together with a cunning expression. He interlocked his hands and stretched his fingers before pulling his antique pipe from his filthy tunic. 

I heard shouts of protest from the other sentries but so far no one’s actually sounded the alarm. They must not want to risk scaring me off by calling the watch before laying eyes on me. Clever bastards.

The Rat Pack is keeping the others busy and I’m not too far from home. I should be able to…

Lyzander didn’t get to finish that thought, the felled guardsman below was quietly stirring. He groggily held his head with a groan, moving his hand down to rub his aching jaw as he slowly opened his eyes. His eyes silently widened as he spotted Lyzander directly overhead, glowing arcane focus in hand as he collected mana.

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“Sorry mate, time for you to go back to sleep,” Lyzander muttered, drawing magical glyphs in the air to form an arcane circle. The circle pulsed to a size larger upon completion, the guardsman frozen in place within the crosshairs. 

Lyzander started to use the antique pipe-turned-wand to rotate the point anti-clockwise. Something unexpected happened, the guard’s actions reversed until he was once again laying unconscious in the hole. Lyzander collapsed back onto his ass in a seated position, losing his balance as he became dizzy with the feeling of depleted mana.

Drawing in a deep breath, he stood unsteadily to his feet, taking a moment to collect himself. He looked around himself, finding the ethereal guideline hovering in place, patiently waiting for him. He took a shaky step forward that gradually progressed into a sprint as he confidently navigated obstacles. Leaping over jutting window arches, and uneven terrain. 

The three moons dropped over the horizon of Hazelhaven’s rooftops, the darkest part of the night before dawn. Gaining speed, Lyzander propelled himself sideways above the dark street, briefly passing over the top of a sentry that didn’t detect him overhead. His destination was completely hidden in the darkness, the shadow of the balcony railing not appearing until he was right on top of it.

Lyzander had leapt from the roof of a shorter building to land precariously on the balcony railing of a taller house, holding his arms wide to maintain balance without slowing. Lyzander continued his blind dash to jump onto the wooden tiles of the next building. He teetered to an abrupt stop, his guideline suddenly replaced with screaming warnings from his calculations. 

He felt the tile underneath him subtly shift. Lyzander held his breath and slowly lowered himself into a crouched position, careful not to make any sudden movements. He felt the tile jolt a little under his added weight as it continued to minutely grind out. 

Laying down flat on his belly, Lyzander carefully crawled forward to glance over the ledge. Directly below was his objective but he had no means to get to the pulley rope from his current position. The rope strung between the was of this building with his narrow two-story hovel on the opposite side gestured to him invitingly. 

Listening carefully for signs of discovery, he could hear the Rat Pack continuing to harass the sentries and his abandoned washing flapping in the wind not far away. He closed his eyes against the loud and unhelpful calculations and regained his composure, trying to remember the topography of the area that couldn’t be seen in the darkness.

This rooftop is ready to crumble with one misstep. As evidenced by earlier, that’s not uncommon for this part of town. How can I deal with this? Right, there’s an alcove attic window just a little bit up this slope. I have an idea but I can’t fuck it up. If I do, everything can go horribly wrong in a number of different ways. 

In the total darkness, Lyzander’s calculations had become muted with only a few appearing in response to the sound of creaks stimulated by the wind. He fumbled around to find the alcove in question. He silently pulled himself inside, extremely careful not to make a sound with a guardsman right below him. The sound of curses from rocks being thrown at them had faded away after the three moons had set. 

The Rat Pack could no longer see their targets in the darkness and neither party was willing to bring out a torch or lantern to reveal their position. That didn’t stop stones from being thrown, they just now utterly missed the mark. As if to emphasize that fact, a rock hurtled unseen through the dark towards his head. His subconscious calculations screamed a warning at him, tracing a flight path based on disturbed air alone. 

It was enough, he blindly caught the stone mere inches from his face and carefully placed it at his feet on the window sill he stood. Inhaling a deep breath, he braced his hands and feet on each side of the alcove and carefully shimmied higher. He climbed until his back pressed firmly to the ceiling. 

Exhaling his held breath, Lyzander leapt.

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