Mataya rose to her feet, her eyelids firmly closed.  For the first phase of the mission, her ears would serve as her eyes.  She listened for each and every sound, locating objects and calculating sound waves as they reflected off the ground, the walls, and other solid structures. The surrounding terrain mapped itself into a three-dimensional landscape inside her mind’s eye.

Rarely understood, humans were capable of developing echolocation similar to marine mammals and bats. Humans were borne with the necessary physiological equipment but simply failed to develop this particular sense, instead relying on the spectacular acuity, depth, and color of their vision. But there were limitations to sight as was proven by the blind who developed uncanny abilities that replaced their sense of vision.  The main advantage, they could see as well in the dark as in the light.  

In one famous case, a priest had developed a sense of echolocation so acute that he played chess daily, able to discern the detailed geometry of the individual pieces using only his ears.  When Mataya read of this, she was fascinated.  Having begun her training relatively late in life, she could not boast of such talent.  But she practiced for years, first with her eyes closed, then with a blindfold.  When others weren’t paying attention, she would practice scaling the outer walls of the keep blindfolded, using her only her senses of touch and sound.  With time, she improved, and the skill proved invaluable.  It gave her the advantage over her opponents, especially while operating under the shroud of night.

The first phase of her mission was the most treacherous.  A vertical descent down the castle wall.  She would have to free climb as the use of safety equipment such as ropes was impractical.  The multi-storey climb was dangerous under the best of circumstances.  Over the centuries, the stone surface had worn slick from exposure to the elements.   The vertical surface was covered in slippery mold, the residual rot from creepers and other plant life, and worst of all, a thin layer of frost that liquified when compressed.  Without safety ropes, if she lost her grip and fell, there would be nothing to catch her other than the hardened earth.   The descent would require intense concentration.

Mataya closed her eyes and walked towards the waist-high ledge.  She gripped the wall and slung one leg over the top.  She listened to the soft rustling of leaves and the wind as it whirred past the branches just above her head.  She rose to her feet and walked along the ledge to the far corner and took one step up onto the round pillar.  She stood erect with her arms out to her side until she found her balance.  She stepped backwards down onto the lower ledge.  Standing in the northeast corner of the terrace, she caressed the globe-shaped pillar with both hands.  She lowered each foot, one reaching the flat surface of the stone terrace, the other lowered over the wall.  She caressed the vertical stone face searching for a familiar foothold.  Once secured,  she rotated clockwise and lifted her right leg up and over until her entire body was positioned on the fall side of the ledge.  This would be the last time her hands had something firm to hold onto.  From here, she would begin the perilous descent.  The temptation to open her eyes was at times overwhelming, but to do so would be most unwise.  Even in the dark of night, the vision of a sixty foot drop could disorient her and disrupt her concentration.

The dual nature of gravity, once lectured her physics teacher as he enthusiastically gesticulated to the class, is similar to the earth’s atmosphere in that, at times it is your best friend, while at others, it is your worst enemy.

She lowered one hand searching for a secure grip.  Then, she slowly lowered her center of mass until she found secure footing with her opposite foot.  Then, she released the ledge and found a small valley within which she could firmly wedge her fingers.  She was past the point of no return.  There would be no going back up.  The only was straight down.  It was not a question of if, but how.

For now, her support was secure and well defined.  Her weight evenly distributed between all four limbs.  Methodically, she released her grip with one hand, lowered herself a small distance, then secured her opposite limb.  One maneuver at a time, touching, feeling, and searching the geometry for the next available position that was capable of sustaining at least half of her body weight.

Her concentration was not as fine-tuned as she had hoped.  The many distractions that she had worked so hard to purge from her mind slowly returned, distracting her, breaking her concentration.  She was being overly cautious, perhaps spooked by the potential jinx of her final mission.  Would this be her downfall?  She took several breathes and decided to accelerate her descent.

Mataya breathed methodically, inhaling as she chose a new hold, then exhaling as she carefully lowered her center of gravity.  Her heart was beating too fast and with an abnormal rhythm.  Images of her body sprawled on the ground below and the screams of those who would inevitably find her invaded her thought process.  With each step, she fought to clear her mind from invasion and refocus her attention on the sound of the wind as it filtered through the leaves above her and the swirling vortices forming along the surface of the wall.  She recalibrated her rate of descent.

As she had reached the midway point marked by a rigid horizontal seam, she felt relief and a renewed sense of confidence.  She had reached the point of no return.  Regardless of what lie below, it would be safer to continue downward rather than to reverse course and attempt to climb back up.  And as the height of a potential fall was reduced by half, the danger had mostly passed.  Despite her attempts to remain stoic, she felt a rush of excitement.  If she were to fall from this height, she most likely would be able to walk away unhurt.  Mataya felt so alive.  So free.

A gentle breeze, unusually cold, accelerated as it passed around the nearby edge.  Cold, dry air penetrated her outer clothing, flowing across her skin, raising goosebumps over her arms, neck, and other unusual places.  Through closed eyelids, she could sense an orange and purple opalescent glow of the moon as it penetrated the trees and reflected off their icy leaves.  The frigid perfumed air smelled delicious.  However, it meant that she had positioned herself upwind of the bloody hounds and their barnyard brethren.  If they sensed her presence, they could alert the guards.  She further accelerated her descent.

An Elf Owl screamed directly above.  Startled,  Mataya bit her lower lip.  The vocalizations of Elf Owls were famously ambiguous.  A mercurial species, they were adored as pets and despised by farmers.  Their behavior was often bizarre, and their language addle-brained.  Was this a genuine threat?  Had Mataya encroached upon a nest?  Perhaps it was a sympathetic warning.  Was a foe stalking from below?  A predatory Raptor descending from above?  She was in no position to defend herself from any form of attack.  She felt the temptation to jump, but reconsidered.

Distracted, she had remained frozen for too long.  She could feel her neck and shoulders shivering from the cold.  Mataya winced as a bolt of pain shot down through her right hamstring,  her ankle, and deep into the arch of her foot.  She had begun to cramp.  Pain was of little concern.  However, muscles willfully ignoring commands issued by the brain would be very serious problem indeed.  She had miscalculated, underestimating the detrimental effects of the cold.   She had lingered in the lotus position for too long.  Her body temperature was dropping too fast.  Her body was beginning to seize.

Mataya executed several rapid breathes, supplying her muscles with fresh oxygen.  She coughed as she inhaled particulates of ice that had formed on the inside of her scarf.  She felt the onset of panic.  She had spent far too much time on the wall and had best descend to the ground before the situation became dire.  She increased her pace yet again.  This time, doubling it.

Focus!

Mataya lowered her center of gravity by bending both knees.   Maintaining her previous cadence, she now repositioned two limbs at a time rather than one.  She used a staggered grip and doubled the length her reach.  She simultaneously released then replaced one hand with the opposing foot.  With every successful stroke, her confidence increased.  And now she was close.  Close enough that it was safe to open her eyes.  The remainder of the climb was trivial.  She had scaled this section of the wall a thousand times with her eyes closed, even once as broom-wielding nuns swatted at her from below attempting to knock her down.  She was intimately familiar with every distension, divot, and cavity.  Using mnemonics, she had memorized the surface as a mosaic of human faces.  An old woman’s nose, a young boy’s chin, a fat man’s tongue, an infant’s cheek.  Muscle memory allowed her mind a brief respite. 

She knew where she was now.  From here she could jump if she wished.  She paused, then sprung from the wall like a cat pushing off with all four limbs simultaneously.  Her dismount was superb.  Her landing, surprisingly soft.  The feeling of frozen grass crunching beneath her hands and feet was glorious.

She did it.

I did it.  Thanks the gods, I did it.