Chapter Forty-Two

Entry:

Talon. It was Talon who spoke to me today. He said something about being there for me. About caring for me. Talon has yet to learn the lesson- if you care, you get hurt.

But maybe, just maybe, I don't want him to learn that lesson. 

Phoenix

--

Today was the day Greyson would finally prove himself. The day he'd attack the thieves with his comrades and return to the castle with the Crown in hand, head raised high as he handed it to the King. 

Sweat dripped down Greyson's brow and fell onto the ground below, his anxiety and eagerness so intense it seeped out of his body. He hoped none of the other men could smell his reek of emotion. 

"This operation is expected to be messy," commander Bridgers warned. "We're ambushing a group of vicious thieves that stole from our Royal Family. We have a duty, a privilege, to get that crown back no matter the cost. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!" the pack shouted back. 

Greyson's heart was a thundering reminder of his nerves, while glances around betrayed his excitement. He was surrounded by all the men he had been training with for years- everyone who'd beat him in those arm wrestles, who'd left him to visit the Highlands together. Bridgers thought Greyson was good enough to fight beside them.

Greyson had to prove them right. 

"The thieves are hiding in warehouse four in the Lowlands," Bridgers continued. "This train will drop us off just outside the station at night and from there, we'll surround the premises. Shoot to kill, but once the Crow is retrieved, retreat to the train. Kill anyone who follows you. Understood?"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

"Good. Load the train- first group, ready- up!"

Greyson was pushed forward as everyone loaded the train. Close, it'd be Greyson's time soon. Now. Greyson pulled himself up in the train and was crammed into a pack with the other men. 

The air thickened with the stench of anxious sweat. The train rolled to a start and Greyson tried to look around. He couldn't see anything save the necks of taller men. 

Greyson would prove to everyone- the other soldiers, the royals, Phoenix- that he was more than capable of taking care of himself, taking care of the people around him, and above all, that he was good enough for Cole's affection. 

Cole was quiet when Greyson left earlier. 

No- Cole was quiet because he was scared something would happen to Greyson. He wasn't quiet like Phoenix, wasn't quiet in disinterest or indifference. 

Cole cared for Greyson, and Greyson, for him.

Right.

Greyson almost fell over when the train came to an abrupt stop at their destination in the Lowlands. He could taste blood as his teeth snapped down onto his tongue, caught off-guard. 

One, two, three, four, five. Greyson was on four. All he had to do was jump out at three. 

"Group one, go!"

The first ten men in the front of the train car jumped out of the train and disappeared into the dark.

"Group two, go!"

Greyson was being shoved near the front of the line, his palms growing slick. 

"Group three, go!"

He was next up. Greyson could see the gravel surface below and the footprints left behind by his teammates. He could do this. He would go in and be the hero once again. Greyson would-

"-go!"

Greyson jumped out of the train and landed on the gravel- hard. Four men in front of him, five behind. Greyson whipped out his gun and placed it on his side as he ran through the streets. Group three went to the left, to loop around and be at the back of the warehouse, and Greyson would go right, looping to the front. 

His breath grew rapid and shallow. Four more streets and the warehouse would be in sight. Fellow guards checked behind every corner of every Lowlander building they ran behind and sprinted through the most exposed areas. 

Everything was dark. With no electricity in the Lowlands, the streets were pitch black save for a few dim candles lining windowsills. 

Three more streets until Greyson proved himself. He caught another guard's stare. Greyson wondered if he appeared the same as his opponent. Eyes wide, trying to see in the dark, knees bent to soften the sound of their footsteps, and pace quick. 

Greyson turned another corner. 

Two more streets until Greyson got the recognition he deserved.

Ahead was a line of identical warehouses. They were tall with sparse windows and a small door in the front, which was shut. There- the fourth one on the South side. 

Greyson noticed light peering out from under the warehouse's doors - the thieves were inside.

Greyson maneuvered up against the metal wall by the door, his gun raised in front of his face. Now all he had to do was wait for Bridgers to catch up from behind and lead them in. 

No one dared breathe heavily enough to hear. An eerie calmness seemed to have settled over the area, and Greyson felt a deep suspicion arise in his core. Did the thieves know that the royal guard was retrieving the crown tonight and they were waiting for them, heavily armed? Which one of his fellow soldiers had ratted them out?

Greyson looked at Bridgers, who'd made his way to the front of the pack and counted. Thirty seconds, the other group shouldn't take more than thirty seconds to loop around the back of the warehouse. Bridgers had a high forehead wrinkled from age. His hand was on the gun, but his finger wasn't on the trigger- did that mean he wasn't planning on shooting the thieves? 

Was Bridgers working with the thieves? 

Bridgers looked around and settled his eyes on Greyson. The two faced each other with the shut warehouse door between them. The door was a common office door, made of metal. The industrial door was on the other side, where a team waited in case the thieves tried to escape that way. 

Greyson would be a hero, he'd get the first kill. 

If not the first, then the second. 

There was a shaky breath, then a subtle nod. Bridgers raised his foot and the door busted open with a loud bang!

Greyson raised his gun and sprinted into the warehouse, eyes wide open for the targets. He could hear the rush of boots storming in after him, like a tidal wave crashing into the shore. His eyes scanned the warehouse, and he stood up, his fingers peeling off the trigger.

It was empty. 

There wasn't a single thief there- and there especially wasn't a crowned jewel. 

Greyson was wrong- that eerie quiet wasn't the thieves waiting to shoot them, it was an empty warehouse. Someone did tip off the thieves- they could be anywhere now.

Everyone looked around in confusion. 

The thieves wouldn't be caught tonight. The Crown wouldn't be retrieved. But most importantly, Greyson wouldn't be anyone's hero.