The way back to the city felt longer than it did the other way as Ackster carried his exhausted, aching, and broken body. But he didn't have much of a choice as he ambled his way through the scrubby forest to the road, which he then followed to the city gates. He had been a little worried that he would lose his way in the darkness. But he remembered the moons' positions, and it seemed like he had a surprisingly keen sense of direction.
Ackster's haggard appearance startled the guards at first. But there weren't many young orphans who had left the city that night, and when he said his name, the name he gave the friendly guard, not his real name, they let him back inside. All the while giving him dirty looks due to his bare and injured upper body.
"Stay off the main street, rat."
Ackster didn't respond to their words and just continued walking in the shadows until he found the fountain where he stashed his clothes. Ackster was actually thankful that the kind-hearted guard wasn't there since it would have been a pain to deal with if he wanted to show off his kindness.
Ackster made sure his clothes were still there before making sure that no one was nearby. If there were people within range, they might call a guard and have him arrested for public indecency or dirtying the city's fountain. And when there wasn't even a rat around, Ackster hurried to strip and wash himself and his hair before quickly changing back into his regular clothes.
Since he was still wet, the clothes chafed. But the chafing wasn't as troublesome as trying to put on a shirt and pants with a broken arm.
It took a little more time than he would have liked. Thankfully, no one came and saw Ackster Phileam strip and put on clothes in the middle of the night in the middle of the city. With his clothes on and having got rid of most of the dirt and blood, Ackster was ready to try and sneak back inside again.
Ackster sighed just thinking about it, but he didn't pause his steps toward the Phileam estate. He sneaked through the city and ended up back inside the string of trees outside the estate. He grabbed one of the rocks and threw it at the front gate with all the strength he had left in his intact arm before running around to the back of the estate where the window to his room faced.
It probably wouldn't be as effective tomorrow or the day after. But now that his arm was broken, Ackster didn't really have a choice. He had to divert as much attention from the backyard as possible so that he could sneak past the guards and jump up to his window.
Ackster jumped up and latched onto the edge of the wall to find that his diversion had succeeded, and only a limited amount of guards were left on his side of the estate. After that, it was a few short dashes through the shadows, and Ackster had successfully returned to the mansion wall below his window without anyone noticing him.
Now came the hardest part.
Ackster's window was on the second floor and was quite high up. The ledge was barely wide enough to fit the first two joints of his fingers. It was pitch black outside, and the guards' torches would only light up the window when they were close enough to see Ackster.
And Ackster only had one usable arm. He didn't even want to think about what would happen if he tried to grab onto the ledge with his broken arm. He imagined his arm getting drawn out at where the bone was broken before he hurried to interrupt his thoughts.
Ackster had to jump straight up and grab the window ledge on the second floor with one hand. He would then have to open the window and somehow pull himself inside. All without being noticed.
He only had one shot, and he was quickly running out of time, so Ackster stopped hesitating and bent his legs while swinging his arms to give him even more of a boost.
After a deep breath, Ackster pushed off the ground and took one step on the wall to go even higher, even though he didn't want to since it might leave a mark, and reached up with his hand.
Ackster had miscalculated and accidentally gone a little too far, so his fingers tapped against the window before bouncing back.
Ackster felt the world slow down as he hurriedly reached for the ledge again. Two of his fingers missed. But his remaining two showed off their strength as they held on for dear life. But if Ackster didn't do something soon, they would begin to slip since his near miss made a sweat break out both across his back and over his hands.
With a suppressed grunt of effort, Ackster shifted his hand and put all four fingers up there before he hurriedly lifted his broken arm up to open the window.
Ackster couldn't quite control his fingers and wrist. But he used his shoulder muscles to push up the sliding window pane. The sweat on his palm actually helped his hand stick to the glass.
But, the window still refused to move at first, and Ackster felt the bones in his arm grind against each other as his floppy arm threatened to fold and eject a couple of bones and return to how it was before Ackster realigned them.
However, with a desperate push, Ackster managed to slide open the window before his other hand slipped, and he fell to the ground. He quickly fixed his grip using the space freed up by the window.
Ackster hauled himself up one-handed with a trembling arm as he pushed his window far enough so that he could fit through and roll into the room with a thump and a deep sigh of relief.