Chapter 34: The Citadel's Shadow

　　Dawn in Calldyr was not a gentle awakening. It was a cacophony of bells—temple bells, market bells, the bells of the Citadel itself—clanging across the city, heralding another day of imperial business. In the cramped, musty attic of The Drowsy Wyvern, the sound was an intrusion, a stark reminder that they were now deep inside the machinery they sought to dismantle.

　　They moved with a new, grim purpose. The exhaustion of their journey was still a heavy cloak, but beneath it was a sharp, focused energy. Today was not about survival; it was about reconnaissance. They had to walk into the lion's den and study its teeth.

　　Their first challenge was appearance. They could not approach the Citadel looking like fugitives from the wilderness. Using the last of their meager resources—a few coppers earned from sweeping the inn's common room—they ventured into the bustling, chaotic market district. They bought what they could: simple, worn but clean tunics and trousers from a second-hand clothes stall, a bar of harsh soap, a razor for Xaden. It was not a disguise of nobility, but one of anonymity. They would be faces in the crowd, unremarkable and unseen.

　　Back at the inn, they took turns washing in a cold bucket of water, scrubbing away the grime of the Scar and the Fingers. The transformation was psychological as much as physical. As the dirt and sweat washed away, the cadets and the archivist re-emerged, their features sharpened by hardship, their eyes holding a gravity that belied their years. They looked like what they were: soldiers and a scholar on a mission.

　　They left the inn separately, at intervals, to avoid drawing attention as a group. Caden's heart hammered against his ribs as he stepped into the flow of the city. Every instinct screamed at him to hide, to retreat to the shadows. But he walked on, his head down, his posture that of a humble scribe on an errand.

　　The Citadel dominated Calldyr. It was not a single building but a sprawling complex of white marble and gold-leafed domes perched on the highest hill, visible from every corner of the city. It was the administrative and spiritual heart of Navarre, a monument to power and permanence. As Caden climbed the broad, stepped avenues leading towards it, the crowds thinned, replaced by guards in the livery of the King's Quill, their eyes scanning the passersby with cold efficiency.

　　He met the others at a pre-arranged spot: a small, public garden with a view of the Citadel's western facade. Violet was already there, sitting on a bench, her gaze fixed on the complex. She looked small and vulnerable amidst the grandeur, but her expression was one of intense, analytical focus. Xaden and the others melted into the surroundings, watching the patterns of the guards, the flow of traffic in and out of the main gates.

　　"The main archive entrance is there," Caden murmured, joining Violet on the bench and pointing to a massive, bronze-reinforced door flanked by two statues of gryphons. Scholars and scribes moved in and out, presenting engraved tokens to the guards. "The security is meticulous."

　　Violet nodded slowly, her eyes tracing the lines of the building. "It's a fortress. But every fortress has a weakness. Not just tunnels. Habits." She pointed. "Look at the delivery carts. They don't go to the main gate. They go around to the side."

　　Caden followed her gaze. She was right. A smaller, less ornate gate, almost hidden in an alcove, was used for supplies. Barrels of wine, crates of food, bales of parchment were being unloaded under the watchful eyes of a single, bored-looking guard.

　　"That's a vulnerability," Xaden said, materializing beside them as if from the air itself. "The guard is lax. The workers are rushed. It's a point of entry."

　　"But it doesn't lead to the Archives," Rhiannon pointed out, joining the huddle. "It leads to the kitchens, the storerooms."

　　"Which are connected to the rest of the Citadel," Violet countered, her mind working visibly. "We don't need to walk in the front door of the library. We just need to get inside the walls. From there, we find Caden's passages."

　　It was a shift in strategy. They weren't going to bluff their way in as scholars. They were going to infiltrate as laborers. It was riskier, but it offered a chance at true invisibility.

　　For the rest of the day, they observed. They noted the schedule of the deliveries. They watched the changing of the guard. They mapped the rhythms of the Citadel's daily life. Caden, his archivist's mind absorbing every detail, began to piece together a mental image of the interior layout based on the glimpses he caught through archways and the types of supplies being delivered.

　　As the sun began to set, casting long shadows from the Citadel's spires, they regrouped in their attic. The room was dark, lit by a single, guttering candle.

　　"We go tomorrow," Violet said, her voice firm in the gloom. "With the morning deliveries. We find work as laborers. We get inside."

　　"It's a huge risk," Garrick said, his arms crossed. "One wrong look, one question we can't answer, and we're finished."

　　"We're already finished if we do nothing," Violet replied, her gaze sweeping over them. "We didn't come all this way to be cautious. We came to win." She looked at Caden. "Can you find the passages from the inside?"

　　Caden thought of the ancient plans, the stories of forgotten ways. He thought of the ley-line map in the Stone Teeth, a guide that had brought them this far. He nodded. "I believe so. The archives were built around the original royal scriptorium. The old ventilation and scroll-transit shafts are still there. They're just… forgotten."

　　"Then that's the plan," Violet said. "We get inside the walls. We disappear into the walls. And we find the truth."

　　A silence fell over the room, heavy with the weight of the decision. They were no longer observers. They were active participants, about to step onto the stage of the most powerful institution in Navarre.

　　The fallen knight looked at the determined faces around him. The weapon he had helped forge was now aiming itself at the very heart of the empire. The stream had reached the ocean, and it was ready to test its strength against the tide.

　　Chapter 34 - End