The castle was settling into the welcoming arms of the night. Auryn heard it in the sounds drifting up through the rookery's open windows.
Servants finishing their last tasks, boots on stone corridors growing less frequent. Torchlights flickered in the courtyard below where guards changed shifts.
The rookery itself was cold. Stone walls absorbed winter chill and held it like a grudge. The walls barely held together allowing night air slip inside to mix with the organic smell of birds, their nauseating feathers and droppings, sharp on the nose.
The ravens lined the walls of the room. Their tiny bodies leaving strained shadows on darker stones with eyes that caught moonlight and reflected it back, an omnious omen even in a night that wore danger like a badge.
Auryn stood in the shadow near the far wall, where the curve of the tower created a natural blind spot from both entrances. He'd positioned himself here for the last hour.
