“You’ll be unsurprised to hear that Narrowmar looks as unassailable as ever,” Archer reported.
“So, what’s the play, boss?” Nat asked. “We impersonating Larke’s men? Sneaking in with the ale? I reckon they go through a few barrels a day.”
“Nothing so elaborate,” Archer said. “I can guarantee every method of attack has been tried before—except this one.” He grinned, leaning jauntily on the statue’s cracked left boot. “We’re going to make our own entrance.” He nodded at Briar. “Or more specifically, she’s going to make us an entrance.”
Nat’s eyes widened. “What, by cutting through the mountain?”
“Cursing through the mountain,” Archer said. “With a little luck, we’re never going to get near that stone door again.”
Lew departed to keep an eye on the road from the safety of a tree branch while the others prepared for the operation. They fed the horses—keeping them saddled in case they needed to leave in a hurry—sharpened their weapons, and reviewed the plan Jemma had devised after Briar revealed she could curse a tunnel straight through the mountain. They would wait until just before the dinner hour to make their move, when the soldiers were looking to their suppers after a long, uneventful day guarding an unassailable door. Archer hoped to be far away by the time the stars came out.
Nat looked increasingly nervous as the shadows began to slant from the broken statue. The lad’s clothes were more disheveled than usual, and he kept pulling on his ear and looking at Briar, who was too preoccupied to offer any reassurances. Her lips were moving, as if she were reciting her curse order—or perhaps a prayer—over and over again.
Archer strolled over to Nat and thumped him on his rounded shoulder. “You all right, mate?”
“You reckon it’ll make noise when she blasts a hole through the rock?”
“Almost certainly,” Archer said. “That’s why we brought a mage with a very fine voice.”
Nat frowned. “I thought Esteban wasn’t going to use his magic.”
“Everyone has a role to play,” Archer said. “Esteban is going to attempt to sing his way into one side of the mountain, covert-like, and while the defenders are busy catching him, our curse painter will burrow through the other side with a different sort of magic.”
Archer had convinced Esteban it would be good for his reputation to get the credit for breaking Mae out of Narrowmar. His license tattoos would place him at the scene, even if he failed to breach the fortress. His voice, for all its power, didn’t have the sheer destructive force of a painted curse. He couldn’t punch a hole through a mountain.
Nat didn’t look convinced. “Won’t he need to be rescued then?”
“I have faith in Esteban’s ability to evade capture,” Archer said. “Besides, Esteban has been seen often in Barden County. Anyone who recognizes him will think this is an assault from Mae’s father, which is the primary threat they’ve been expecting all along. They’ll be too busy defending the fortress against him to see the real attack coming.”
“If you say so.” Nat wiped away the sweat beading on his forehead. “Remind me what I’m supposed to do again.”
“You will watch out for Briar while she works and help get Mae out through the tunnel—carry her if necessary. You’re the brawn, remember? You need to be extra careful with her in her condition.”
“What about you?”
“I’m going to help Esteban with the diversion.” Archer counted the arrows in his quiver, making sure the fletching was straight on each one. “Between us, we’re going to cause a ruckus to wake the lower realms.”
They had only decided that part earlier that morning. Archer had originally planned to go into the tunnel with Briar to find Mae himself, but after their brawl with the patrol by New Chester, they had to assume Narrowmar’s defenders knew his crew was in the area. One of the soldiers could have escaped amidst the confusion around the fire. If Archer wasn’t with Esteban, they would know the voice mage was only a diversion. There was an outsized chance Archer would be captured, but that was a risk he was willing to take.
Nat still looked worried. “What about Lew?”
“He will be acting all diverting with me and Esteban. Don’t worry, Nat. He’ll be fine.”
“If you say so.”
Nat ambled over to Briar, who was rearranging the contents of her paint satchel with meticulous hands. “Are you really powerful enough to make a tunnel all the way into that mountain?”
“Let’s hope so,” Briar said.
“How do you know we won’t punch right through to a room full of soldiers?”
“That’s where I come in,” Jemma said. She was tying stiff leather bracers onto her arms, knife hilts poking out above each wrist. Her cudgel swung at her belt, and her red shawl was knotted across her chest. “I lived inside that mountain in another life. I know it well.”
“I thought it was Larke Castle you knew,” Nat said.
Jemma’s mouth tightened, pulling at her spidery wrinkles. “I’ve spent time in both places.”
“And Archer?” Briar looked up from her paints. “You’ve also been inside Narrowmar before, right?”
Archer slung his quiver over his shoulder. “In another life, as Jemma says.”
Nat looked between the two of them. “Am I the only one who doesn’t have a secret history?”
“You’re making your secret history as we speak,” Archer said. “The reward for rescuing Mae will make you rich. You can set up as a gentleman somewhere and keep the story of how you came by your riches to yourself as long as you want.”
“Huh,” Nat said. “I’d never thought of that.”
He wandered off to make sure the horses were securely tethered in the shadow of the broken statue. They would make their final approach soon.
