Klara lay on her stomach in the snow, flanked by Adamov, Matvei, Mikhail, and Nika. Several yards ahead, she could just make out Elana as she tried to lure the Alchemist using telepathy extract onto the balcony. Klara stared up at the tower above them, studying its darkened features. She couldn’t see the square base from their angle, but could see the three floors of the round tower that rose from the base.

  A dim red light glowed from inside the room at the top, and six shadowy figures moved around inside. Windows wrapped the entire room, all angled out at the top, allowing any easy view of the ground around the tower. The signal apparatuses sat on top of the tower on the north and south edges. Now and then, blinding flashes of white strobed the night as messages were relayed.

  After several minutes, a door directly below the top room opened. Light flooded into the night, revealing a narrow balcony that curved all the way around the tower. The silhouette of a man stepped onto the balcony and let the door shut behind him, plunging them once again into darkness. Klara couldn’t see him with the purple after-image left in a vision.

  “Come on, Yeger,” Klara muttered. “Take the shot.”

  The only sound that breached the night was the whistling of wind through the mountain peaks.

  Crack!

  Klara started as the gas rifle shot echoed like a thunder strike down the mountain. She held her breath as she watched. If the Alchemists inside heard the shot, the assault would to be over.

  But everything seemed peaceful.

  A moment later, Elana appeared in front of her. “The soldier’s down and the others do not appear panicked,” she said.

  Klara pushed herself to her feet. “Let’s get this over with then.”

  As one, they jogged towards the cliff face fifty yards away, moving as fast as they dared in the darkness. Lit only by the light of the moon, they climbed, scaling the cliff quickly.

  Klara crested the top and crouched on a snowy slope several minutes later. The tower sat thirty yards away. Several gaslamps circled the lower half of the building, shedding light over the surrounding landscape. They’d have to move carefully to avoid being spotted.

  She crept forwards, making her way to the steel door set into the concrete. Her hearts thudded in a chest and she tried to steady her breathing. The plan had seemed so much better in the safety of an airship.

  All it would take for it to be over was for one of the crew in the tower to look out the window and see the white lumps moving across the snow. Or for someone to realise that the telepath was missing. How suspicious were these people? How well-trained were they?

  No. She needed to focus. If something went wrong, she’d deal with it then. She couldn’t waste time dwelling on maybes.

  Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

  The squad reached the tower and pressed themselves against the wall.

  Elana stood on the opposite side of the steel door and after a nod from Klara, she stared at the door, peering in at the minds of those inside. She held up a finger, then pointed to the left of the door. Then she held up seven fingers.

  Klara nodded. One soldier waited in that room to the left of the door seven yards back. She turned to Matvei, who stood on her left, and silently passed the information on to him. He swiftly unlatched the slavock soles from his boots, then withdrew a throwing knife from a hidden sheath and positioned himself in front of the door, arm raised.

  Elana stepped forwards and placed a hand over the lock of the door and shut her eyes.

  Klara could hardly breathe as she waited, waited for an alarm bell to sound, waited for a shot to ring out. Waited for a full squad of Alchemist soldiers to find them and kill them all.

  She swallowed past the thick lump in her throat and tried to will her hearts to slow.

  With a faint click, barely audible over the wind, the door swung open.

  Matvei was already moving, the yellow light of the gaslamps glinted off his throwing knife as a left his hand incredible speed and flew into the room.

  A muffled cry sounded, cut off by a pained gurgle.

  Matvei sprinted into the room.

  A beat later, Klara entered the room in time to see Matvei catch the dead soldier, a young man with blond hair, probably no older than Mikhail, and lower him to the ground.

  Klara glanced around the room. It appeared to be the tower’s kitchen. Three doors stood along the eastern wall, probably supply rooms, and a single door stood on the back wall to the south, doubtless leading to a stairway. Klara hurried over to the Alchemist soldier as the rest of the squad filed into the room and shut the door behind them. As one, they sat and unstrapped the serrated soles from their boots, stowing them in packs.

  Matvei was already stripping the black coat off the young man, and Klara noticed the dead soldier’s hands were covered in soapsuds and were wrinkled. He’d been washing dishes.

  A wave of nausea swept over Klara, and she clenched her jaw. This kid had probably only just joined the Alchemist soldiers and done nothing more than go through training and clean dishes. And they’d just killed him.

  Just like Voronina had done to Ledavsk. Just like the woman intended to do to Borovsk—unless they stopped her.

  This was war, people died in war. Klara drew a deep breath, steeling herself. “You take this coat, Matvei,” she said before hurrying to Elana. “Where are the next soldiers?”

  Elana looked up. “There are two in the room above, and two in the room above that.”

  Klara turned Adamov, who said, “This was the easy room. The next two aren’t separated by doors, only a spiral staircase. If we make even the slightest noise, we’ll alert those on the floor above.”

  “What about the control room? Does that have the door?”

  Adamov nodded.

  “The rooms are both open layouts?”

  “Yes,” Adamov said. “The room above is sleeping quarters and showers. Above that, eating and living space.”

  “What are their locations, Elana?” Klara asked.

  “On the second floor?” Elana strode to the front of the room and came to a stop near a stack of crates. She pointed up a little to a left and then about two yards away from that. “About there and there.”

  She walked to the western side of the room and pointed up. “On the third floor, one is here...” She headed to the eastern side of the room. “And here.”

  “All right,” Klara said, facing the squad, “Matvei, you and I will take the two in the sleeping quarters. You go first, take the one on the left while I take the one on the right. While we do that, Adamov and Nika, you head straight to the living quarters. Nika you take west, Adamov you take east. Don’t let anyone make a sound. Elana and Mikhail, hang back until the rooms are cleared.”

  The squad acknowledged the orders with sharp nods. Matvei, now wearing the black Alchemist soldier coat, loose on his wiry frame, wiped the blood off his blade and hid it in the palm of his hand. He’d kept his half-mask in place and pulled the hood up. Without another word, he walked to the door to the stairs, Klara right behind him.