Chapter 184
Chapter 184
Citlali's POV
Night fell over Argentum like a heavy curtain, swallowing the last traces of daylight and casting the city into shadow.
To avoid drawing attention, we split into two groups—Rowan, Dorian, and I took the lead, while Aldric, Lysander, and Branimir followed at a distance, keeping far enough back that we wouldn't look like a coordinated unit to any casual observer.
Once we cleared the city gates, we regrouped in the tree line just beyond the walls. The air was cold and sharp, carrying the salt tang of the sea.
We moved as shadows through the wilderness, skirting the edge of the city toward the eastern cliffs.
The moon hung low and pale above us, barely illuminating the rocky terrain.
We were ghosts in the night, silent and swift, racing toward the sea.
---
The beach, when we finally reached it, was a desolate and treacherous place. Jagged rocks jutted up from the sand like broken teeth, their edges sharp enough to slice through flesh, gleaming coldly in the moonlight.
The cliffs rose sheer and imposing above us, and somewhere at their summit, the palace walls loomed in the darkness. Abandoned fishing boats lay scattered across the shore, their hulls rotted and split by years of salt and storm.
The wind howled across the open water, carrying with it the stench of brine and decaying seaweed that made my nose wrinkle.
Above us, I could make out the silhouettes of sentries patrolling the palace walls, their torches flickering like distant stars in the wind.
The six of us spread out, moving carefully between the rocks, searching for any sign of a sewer outlet. The beach was vast and treacherous, and finding a hidden entrance in the darkness would be no easy task.
---
We had been searching for perhaps ten minutes when Lysander's urgent voice burst through the mindlink: Someone's coming!
I froze, my heart leaping into my throat. Within seconds, all six of us had scrambled into a massive crevice between two boulders, pressing ourselves into the shadows.
The footsteps grew louder—steady, rhythmic, the sound of boots on sand and stone. Through the narrow gap in the rocks, I could see them: a coastal patrol of five soldiers carrying torches, their armor gleaming in the firelight.
And behind them, moving with predatory grace, was a wolf hunter. I recognized the type immediately—the silver-edged weapons, the leather armor reinforced with steel plates, the cold, calculating way he moved.
The soldiers marched along the beach in formation, their torches casting dancing shadows across the rocks. The wolf hunter brought up the rear, and every few steps he would stop, lifting his head to sniff the air.
My heart hammered against my ribs so hard I was certain they would hear it. I held my breath, not daring to move a muscle as the patrol passed within three meters of our hiding spot.
The wolf hunter stopped directly in front of our crevice. His head turned slowly, nostrils flaring as he tested the wind.
"I smell something..." he muttered, his voice carrying clearly in the night air.
The lead soldier turned back, his expression impatient. "Again? You say that every time, and it's always nothing."
The wolf hunter's frown deepened. He took another step closer to our hiding spot, and I could see the silver gleam of the blade at his hip.
My muscles tensed, ready to fight if necessary. Beside me, I could feel Rowan coiling like a spring, prepared to shift and attack if we were discovered.
But after a long, tense moment, the wolf hunter shook his head. "Could be... just animal scent carried on the sea wind."
"Then let's keep moving," the lead soldier said curtly. "We still have half the beach to patrol."
The wolf hunter hesitated for one more heartbeat, then turned and followed the patrol as they continued down the shore. We remained frozen in place, not daring to move until their torches had disappeared completely into the night.
That was too close, Branimir sent through mindlink, and I could hear the shakiness in his mental voice.
---
We waited several more minutes to be sure the patrol was truly gone before emerging from our hiding place. My legs were trembling, and I had to force myself to breathe normally again.
Lysander was the one who found it. His sense of smell had always been the sharpest among us, and he put it to good use now, dropping to his hands and knees to examine a narrow crevice between two large boulders.
"There's water flowing here," he said quietly. "And it's not seawater."
He pressed his face close to the opening and inhaled deeply, then wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Sewage. Definitely sewage."
The rest of us gathered around, examining the crevice more closely. The stone around it bore clear signs of human craftsmanship—the edges were too smooth, too deliberate to be natural.
Tool marks scored the rock face, and the stone showed the telltale erosion patterns of long-term water flow. This wasn't a natural formation—someone had carved this opening, probably centuries ago.
Dorian pulled out the small hand torch we'd taken from the armory and shone it into the opening. The beam revealed a narrow passage, barely wide enough for a person to squeeze through sideways.
Dark water trickled out in a slow, steady stream, and even from where I stood, the smell was overwhelming—a nauseating mixture of human waste, rotting food, mold, and death.
"This is it," Aldric confirmed, his voice grim.
---
I forced myself to lean closer to the opening, and immediately regretted it. The stench was so powerful it made my eyes water and my stomach heave.
The smell of sewage mixed with something else—something organic and decaying that I didn't want to identify. I pressed the back of my hand against my nose and mouth, trying to filter the air, but it did little good.
Branimir's face twisted in revulsion. "This smell... it's worse than a battlefield full of corpses."
"Sewers are like this," Dorian said flatly, though even his usual calm seemed shaken. "We'll have to endure it."
I forced myself to take shallow breaths through my mouth, but even then I could taste the foulness on my tongue.
Aldric straightened up, his expression thoughtful as he looked at me and Rowan, "Hear me out before you two go in. You follow my rules exactly."