Spycraft Academy by B. Miles (little readers .txt) 📕

was the instructors' primary offices. Nobody save for staff was allowed to go near it. If a student was required to meet with the headmaster, it would be in his secondary office in the north tower.

The man ran across the valley floor, toward the building. Sam pressed his back tightly to the wall, watching him. He was not about to follow the strange man any farther when he had a fine view from the safety of the castle.

The man collided with the squat building and stood utterly still, probably waiting to see if an alarm was raised. When nothing happened, he took a long step before he took three more. He turned and Sam could see the vague outline of his arms moving. He was probably fiddling with a window.

When it swung open, Sam's fists tightened. The man lifted himself to the sill before he disappeared into the darkness of the building.

Sam took off, following the man's path through the lush valley grass. He wound down to a gentle trot when he neared the building, and when he was close enough, he walked heel-toe. He hugged the building wall and kept his shadows against him.

He waited, resolving not to move until the man came back out, which was nearly twenty minutes later by his estimation. The man was clutching something to his chest, like a stack of documents, when he slid from the building. The hairs on the back of Sam's neck bristled and a sensation of wrongness settled into his body like impending doom.

Instead of going toward the school, the man turned to the forest and took off again.

Sam growled to himself. This is what he usually needed Mattie for, but she was in the dormitory, eagerly awaiting him to come back and report the mission complete. Instead, he was tailing some nefarious thief into the woods, hopefully without meeting any assassin associates in the process.

He followed the thief.

Foliage and twigs snapped, crunched, and rustled beneath the man's swift feet, but it wasn't enough to drown out Sam's footfalls. He tried to be careful and step where the man stepped to eliminate any extra noise, but even with outdoors training, Sam was nowhere near practiced enough in navigating forest terrain to be able to stay hidden.

The man stopped in the shallows of the wood and glanced over his shoulder. There was no way he'd be able to pick out Sam's cloak of shadows from the pitch black of the forest veil unless he had some talent to help his sight.

Even so, he knew he was being followed.

Which was probably why he took off again, this time zig-zagging around trees and rocks and thickets like a fleet-toed deer. He dashed far from Sam's sight and even though his loud footfalls were still evident, the forest was an echo chamber and there was no telling where they were actually coming from.

Damn.

Sam leaned against a tree and stared into the shapeless black of the woods. He'd lost the man so easily it was a wonder it didn't happen sooner. Now what?

He could keep going, try to catch onto a sound or a movement, but the man was far ahead by now. Sam could be wandering around in the dark long after the man had concluded his business and departed.

There was no use looking now. He would just be wasting time. But at least nobody had gotten hurt, which was the reason he followed to begin with. Even so, something suspicious and clearly dangerous was afoot. That man had stolen something from the administration. Something important, given how much trouble the man went through to get it.

With a final glance at the pitch of the deep forest, Sam turned around and made his way back to the administration building.

It wasn't a long walk, but Sam was careful in making sure he didn't get turned around. By the time he made it back to the squat stone office, the sky had darkened even more. Sam snuck toward the window that the thief slipped through and glanced inside.

At first, the private office looked plain. Neatly stacked papers, a small bookshelf, a couch, a desk, paintings on the walls. But a small, hand-painted likeness of Loredena on the desk made it clear whose office this was.

Their mathematics and science instructor was beautiful and ridiculously intelligent, her features lush and dark rather than phantom white like her father’s. Most of the male students had a soft spot for her, and apparently many of the male instructors did as well. Unfortunately for them, she inherited Mode’s harshness and had no affection for them.

Mode was one of the most, if not the most, deadly assassins alive. He might be too old for military fieldwork, but he wasn't too old to orchestrate strikes or run private jobs if he so chose. Nothing in his office would be harmless or banal, especially not something valuable enough for somebody to risk going into such a forbidden place to begin with.

Sam would have to keep an eye out and an ear peeled tomorrow morning. Nothing crazy was going to happen tonight. Stolen things were rarely used right away, especially when it seemed like the thing the man stole was a packet of papers, not anything pointy.

The girls were probably wondering where he was anyway. Best to get back now so they didn't go looking for him and get caught for their troubles.

He tried not to worry about it as he walked back to the dorm, but he couldn't quite shake the uneasy sensation that settled in his chest like lead.

"By the spirits, Sam, took you long enough."

"Did you have a roll in the hay with the twat or something?"

"Where are the clothes?"

That was the greeting he got when he walked into his dorm. Mattie, Drina, and Rosin were strewn out on his bed like tossed outfits. At least Fletch was sitting on his own bed quietly, his eyes relaxed and absent of judgement of Sam's tardiness.

Fletch grinned, "Did you catch a peek of him coming