Chapter 6
Hendry’s blood outpoured.
I stood beside the others, fearful and speechless. Plucking a rag from his belt, Lord Alistair cleansed his blade of blood and stood over Hendry’s corpse with no tells of remorse in his eyes.
His blade rang as he sheathed it.
“Get him out of here.”
The Raven banner whisked across the wine cellar, the crimson cape following their guards as they took the headless body by the arms and dragged it away—a portion of Hendry—leaving his head behind.
“Pious fool,” the lord said, his black-washed eyes honed upon Hendry, leaving me near livid tears. Alistair’s veins of dark magic began to subside, slipping below his collar. He swiped another chalice and approached the cellar’s exit.
“Council, join me in the meeting chambers at once. There is much to discuss.” With a whisk of his jacket, Alistair walked beneath the doorframe and left us with the dead.
I did not recognize this man from the one I’d met at the fountain. Knowing him now, I wanted to peel off my skin where our hands had touched.
“Take your sister to her room,” a stumpy man whispered to Catriona—I presumed this was Neil, Catriona and Maisie’s father. He took a slug from his flask, released a deep sigh, then tottered on alongside the other men, twisting through the crowd, and vanished into the stairwell’s void.
I stood rooted, watching Catriona hold Maisie. Maisie looked back at me—brows drawn, lips quivering, and eyes wide and darkened.
Deceit hung in my ears. The lord calls for all counsel, Rhoswen.
His voice barely found me as I glanced back at Hendry’s eyes. He does not want me there.
Do not drown your qualms in frail truths, the god said. The lord does not wish for your presence, but you are shackled by fear. The lord has summoned his counsel. You are to obey.
The god was right. I knew he was. This is why I’d come—to pose as an advisor, learn of the potion and the Raven’s intentions, call for Taison, and leave no trace of my being here. I already wished to forget this place.
Following the path into the stairwell, I trailed behind Neil with silent footfall, not in the mood for a chat. Past the front room, down a long stretch of hallway, we arrived at the meeting chamber.
When I stepped inside, Alistair was standing by a hearth, wiping the red splatter from his hand with the stained rag.
Bile settled in my stomach like hot coals.
Hendry shouldn’t have died. I grieved his death, and I grieved in knowing I was now alone in this damned estate. The hot coals made my blood burn. I grit my teeth.
Deceit held my anger, as though it centered where his nails dug into me. In an era of darkness, blood burns all the brighter, and yet my servant mourns when one man falls. What will she be when drenched in the bloodbath of all?
I kept my silence from the deity. A bit of blood, another death—those things did not matter to him, leaving me to wonder what he’d seen in his life that made him this way. Other gods cared—I’d read their sacred texts in my years within the castle before my father burned it all. The preciousness of life was written over and again. But…
The God of Deception was never mentioned in those scripts.
I yanked my eyes from Alistair to survey the company.
A table stretched the length of the quarters. Chairs were set upon an olive rug, matching the floral tapestries draping each wall. More gold trinkets lined the shelves, and the stone hearth was at the wall opposite of the entrance, the fire flicking light across the room.
Neil sat, stowing away his flask with shaking hands. His foot was tapping rapidly, and he occasionally snuck a shy glance at the lord.
A man marched around the table, his chin raised and a glare seemingly molded to his face. At second glance, I recognized him. He had whispered to Freya, keep him close, and I couldn’t help but notice their glares were similar. Near identical. Freya’s father, perhaps.
I went to the other side of the table to claim a spare chair.
Alistair remained by the fire, stabbing logs with an iron rod. I shuddered at the sight, unsure if his crave for bloodshed was satisfied. Once the hearth roared in cries for mercy, Alistair set down the rod and propped his forearm above him, leaned, and stared at the flames. I watched warps of firelight glide across the resilient demeanor that set his face to stone.
The lord seemed drowned in troubles or perhaps no troubles at all—I couldn’t tell.
His focus slit to the edge of his sights as I pulled out a chair. He left any thoughts to the flames, and I was unfortunate enough to have his full attention, those black eyes upon me. I had to check my arms for spiders, because it felt like they crawled all over my skin.
“Why have you come?” Lord Alistair asked with an edge of danger.
“You have called for your counsel,” I said as calmly as I could, which, with a knack for deception, was unarguably calm.
“I have no interest in your counsel, Miss Fallen. You hardly seem suitable to navigate these dark days.” As he sat, he motioned me away.
“You do not yet know me.”
His jaw tightened.
“And I do not wish to. Leave. Now.”
Still, I took my place at the table. Stabbing my elbows against the woodgrains, I folded my hands, rested my lips upon my fingers, and argued for my stay.
“I may prove useful to you, my lord. I regret my words beside the fountain, and I hope we might move past such.”
His nostrils flared.
“A woman of regret is indeed unfitting for the days of war between gods and men.” His dark gaze was unbreaking, unending.
“A woman of morals is not well suited for man’s schemes.”
“I am not afraid of what plans you have for your house, Lord Alistair. Let us see what I might offer before I am dismissed. Should you have no use for me, I will leave.” I craned my neck in a subtle bow.
“If it pleases you, of course.”
“It does not.” Alistair gnashed, and I swallowed the stone in my throat.
“If you do not leave, there—”
“Lord Alistair!” Another voice quaked the chambers, my elbows slipping from the table in a jolt.
Alistair tore his eyes from mine as a burly man wedged himself beside us. The Raven crest was sewn into a crimson cape, draping from the brawny man’s shoulder.
“Captain Tynan.” Alistair rose, and their clasping hands competed for size.
“Your attendance is appreciated. I understand you and your men have been strenuously occupied in recent days.”
Tynan’s timbre rumbled.
“My loyalty to the Raven name did not end with your father. Should my lord call, I will answer.”
“I am glad to hear it.” Though gladness seemed far from Alistair this day.
“I beg my condolences for the loss of your father, Lord Alistair. The people of Tharen Crest grieve beside you.”
“I would not be so sure, Captain. People are often relieved when a tyrant has met their grave.”
Tyrant?
If my elbows had not already slipped, they would have then. Perhaps I was mistaken to believe Alistair grieved the loss of his father.
A pang chiseled Captain Tynan’s scowl and deepened the lines already tangled across his face. He parted his lips to speak, perhaps to reflect my own disbelief, but another joined the company.
“My lord.” Approaching was, presumably, Freya’s father.
“Lucien,” Alistair uttered his name as though it hurt to get out.
Lucien bowed, tipping the plait that failed to hide his balding crown, and took his seat.
“We are pleased for your safe return. Tharen Crest has grown restless upon the death of your father.”
“But my men have held steady,” Tynan appended his say as he sat.
“Even as elvish swine come from hiding—bringing their brawls and treachery with them.”
“The elflings fled their posts at the stables while you were away, Lord Alistair,” Neil said before muttering.
“I did not think there would be retaliation in the city.”
“I noticed the elflings’ absence in the stables.” Alistair shrugged.
“I assumed they’d been killed.”
Lucien remarked.
“We’ll send men to look for the elflings. No elves should roam free!”
Alistair lifted his hand.
“Keep our men in Tharen Crest. We will not spread our resources for some damn kids.”
“Agreed,” Tynan huffed.
These men loathe the elves, just like the Calhourns. I cannot say I was taken aback, but my heart still wrestled.
Alistair tapped his fingers along the table with blood clinging to his nail beds.
Captain Tynan resumed.
“We must continue the late lord’s efforts in establishing order. Eadric had been successful in uprooting elves from the western villages. I expect nothing less of you, Lord Alistair.”
The lord inhaled, but Lucien took the next say.
“Elves will continue to spring out of the ground so long as their haven remains near. We must continue pressing the borders to Ethereum. Fortify further west. Expand his lord’s wings.”
They plan to invade the elves’ haven? I asked the god.
Hush, child, only listen.
Neil cleared his throat.
“I believe our funds would run dry if we expanded further west, but the late lord found great success in his vineyards to fund the crown’s efforts.”
Lucien placed his hand over his eyes, as though it was tiresome to answer.
“You cannot grow grapes beneath this dying sun, Neil.” One of his brows ticked up.
“We need another source of funds.”
Alistair’s hand twitched. His jaw clenched. Voices bickered, but Alistair slammed his fist on the table, demanding attention.
“And why is it you speak as though death has not found our home? You say you grieve beside me, then speak of elves and soldiers and coin.” He ran his hand through his hair.
“I am weary this day, and my council offers no reprieve.”
Neil set his hand upon the table, nearer to Alistair.
“I am sorry, my lord. We mourn your father with sorrowful hearts. Shall we drink to his name?”
“If we drink, let it be to the Calhourns,” Alistair said.
“The Calhourns? What has become of Lord Morrigan?”
“Dead.” Another man entered the room, tall and slender, with a lifted chin and long hair neatly tied back.
“Sir Percival and his father, Lord Morrigan, were thrust beyond the veil.”
Percy’s name met me like a needle to the heart.
Deceit plucked out the needle and shattered it, hissing at my grief.
“Cedric, it is an honor,” Neil said as he stood and bowed.
Cedric paced the length of the chamber with a slow breath.
“Where I am, the whispers are dire. My presence is no good omen, Mister Vaile.”
Neil ignored Cedric’s tale.
“Gods, my lord, my heart weighs heavily this day. What had happened?”
I thought Alistair’s jaw might snap under the tension.
“Servers to the gods.”
I smothered the hues of fire rising to my cheeks. Deceit, what happened to Morrigan? We did not kill Percy’s father.
It appears the Divine had determined the lord’s fate beyond yourself.
“They’re infiltrating more homes?” Neil’s frown deepened.
“I never imagined Hendry was a servant to the gods.”
“There was a traitor?” Captain Tynan asked. “Here?”
Cedric looked at Alistair.
“Then I take it the guildmember has been dealt with?”
Alistair’s piercing eyes locked onto Cedric.
“Indeed. The speculations you heard were true. Hendry Baird served the gods.”
“And where is he now?” Cedric asked.
It was the serpent smirk that took Alistair’s lips.
“A piece of him lies in the wine cellar. The rest is most likely being buried in the wood.”
I could see it clearly—guards turning soil and leaving Hendry’s body to decompose with the rotting leaves of autumn.
Deceit spoke as acid churned in my stomach. Let the thoughts wither, Rhoswen, before they devour you. Within this moment, you despise the gods. Hendry’s death was a triumph.
“You killed him?” Cedric’s face reddened with furrowed brows.
“We were to interrogate—”
Alistair growled.
“Consider it swift justice.”
Cedric grunted but held back further words behind tight lips.
“And who is this?” Lucien scowled at me from across the table then looked at the lord.
Alistair’s eyes darkened.
“I am a new advisor, Sir Lucien. Rhoswen Fallen,” I said, and Lucien’s nose cut the air to mark me. Scold me for speaking up.
“Sent by the crown to aid in his lord’s efforts.”
“You may ignore her,” Alistair snarled.
“I haven’t an interest in more advisors, though my father believed such was needed.”
“Your name is great in these lands, Lord Alistair. Such a rule as yours deserves an established council.” I aimed to ease the tension, but Alistair white-knuckled his fists.
“Hold your tongue. Upon this day, you are no one.”
I yearned to mirror the glare that took his face, but I refused myself.
The god whispered as I studied the council’s faces. Within the homes of the most wicked men, you must dwell, child. You need to secure your place at the lord’s table. Should he turn you away, your failure to appease the gods will be at a cost.
Alistair upheld his hardened features as he looked at the captain.
“Captain Tynan, tell me plainly, what is the condition of the guards in Tharen Crest and the villages?”
“The barracks of Tharen Crest are strong. Your father ensured, above all else, the guards were established in the city. The neighboring villages prove a challenge.” His palm grinded against the grey stubble tacking his cheek.
“Further west, we have found our men strung up in the trees and bled out, cut at the throats. Cindermoor is at risk of falling to the elves.”
Neil gasped, Lucien’s eyes tightened, Cedric lifted his chin, and Lord Alistair appeared unperturbed and asked.
“Do we continue to replenish our supply of guards?”
Tynan groaned.
“King Paden sends upon request, though the requests have been growing as of late. I am wary the king might bear concern of our strife against the elves.”
I squared my shoulders in a mask of valor.
“Hire men who do not wear the armor.”
Necks twisted as men regarded me—all except for Lord Alistair, who merely watched the grains of wood as he tapped his fingers.
“If bounty men are hired, they can capture elves and exchange them for coin. We needn’t say the elves were overwhelming Captain Tynan’s guards; rather, we use them to handle the bartering transactions. The guards are aided, and we fund the lord’s efforts.”
Alistair’s head fell back, his dark strands cascading from his brow. He drank in the air with a smirk.
“She deemed no one speaks when demanded not.”
I ignored Lucien’s rumbling laugh.
Alistair cut his glare to me.
“If you’d like to remain within my company, I suggest you allow your quick speech to silence.”
I bit my tongue. Not at the lord’s demand, but because I was near cursing his name.
Lucien’s words played a similar tune to his laugh.
“Regardless, we do not have the means of paying for the bounty. Our pockets run slim. Though…” He groomed the tail of his braid.
“The late lord and I had an agreement. Perhaps if such an agreement is satisfied, my name might contribute to our efforts.”
Alistair’s taps ceased.
It returned—that ebony vein twining his wrist, foreboding the Shadow’s influence. The meeting chamber fell silent except for Neil’s wheezing breath as dark forces toiled, the smoke infesting. Alistair’s jaw twitched with an unsettling crack. Black blood crept up his neck, snaking towards his eyes.
Alistair’s nails screeched against the table, and he took a slow breath, halting the inky veins before they broke past his cheekbone. Then, like sorcery, the blackened blood fell beneath his collar, as though the dark magic had never touched his skin. He raised his gaze.
I sat beside my disbelief.
A lord—marked by Shadow, possessed by darkness—able to control his rage. Deceit spoke curiously in the void where he watched. Were this man your father, these men would be found against his blade, spilled of blood, praying for death.
You have never seen a man able to control the dark magic’s influence?
The god’s claws followed the map of my mind. Not until this day, child.
“Lucien,” Alistair uttered, his voice slick with a promise of death.
Lucien’s lips slacked. There was fear in his eyes.
“You will not speak to me of the contracts constructed by you and my father. The contract you refer to is lacking. It will be voided.”
I thought Lucien might faint.
“Which contract do you speak of?”
Alistair bit the air between them.
“It is the contracts that worry you?” He rose from his seat and towered over us, his palms pressing against the table’s edge.
“It is not the wrath of your lord that frightens you?”
“Alistair—”
“Lord Alistair.” The lord paced to Lucien’s shaking figure.
“Can you imagine the moment Cedric handed me the contract written without my knowledge? Binding words scrawled behind my back, my own name scraped into parchment. And two signatures scribbled beside the king’s seal: Lord Eadric Raven and Sir Lucien Brine.”
Brine? The ceiling caved in upon me. I masked my tremble and spoke within myself. Deceit, ‘Lucien Brine’ was the man who hired the mercenaries. The mercenaries who attacked in the wood.
Then you know another man who must die. I could not imagine how Deceit’s grin looked, but there was always a piercing ache when he smiled. Do not fret, Rhoswen. Brine does not know your face.
The casing of confidence Lucien wore was crumbling.
“My lord, I merely sought the longevity and fortitude of your house.”
When Alistair stood behind Lucien and clasped his shoulders, Lucien fell sickly pale.
“My house is fortified in my name alone. Not yours. But, luckily for you—” Alistair removed his hold.
“—the contract that keeps you here is well written.”
The fire cracked and burst as Alistair continued sauntering around us. His hands fastened at his back.
“As for the hiring of bounty men, if such an idea bears weight, we may explore our options.”
Relief washed over me, but it was direly shallow. Alistair’s consideration of my proposal meant he may allow me to stay. For the gods, it was relief. For myself… I feared for myself.
Alistair continued.
“Lucien, you are well acquainted with men for hire. Discuss our plans with your contacts as needed. Perhaps we can pay the bounty once they’ve delivered the elves. Cedric, do you know of anyone in Sariem that can handle the transaction?”
Cedric shook his head.
“I do not, my lord. With the Calhourn house fallen, it may take time to establish the new trader of elves. The Andraelian treasurers will be meeting at the castle in the coming days. I will insist they discuss it at that time.”
“Very well.” Alistair resumed his position beside the hearth and addressed all.
“My father’s time in Andrael made a great impact in the western lands. The walls of Tharen Crest are nearly complete, elves have been pressed to the cusp of the sea, and the villages have been fortified. His work will continue beneath the family’s sigil. My hands will lay stones of order. Obedience. The Calhourns’ deaths, my father’s death, fill me with afflictions. Such afflictions will be the catalyst for great days. The age of man will be infinite, and the gods will fall from their thrones. The elves will fall with them.”
Captain Tynan rose beside Alistair.
“We stand with you, my lord, knowing your reign will further your father’s work. I will return to Tharen Crest and discuss your aims for hired men in Cindermoor.”
Alistair nodded.
“Cedric, will you be staying?”
“Only for your father’s funeral, my lord. I must then chase Andrael’s ever-present whispers. I shall send word of any rumors relevant.”
The lord offered his hand.
“Your many ears have been of great service to my father, and I value our continued fellowship.”
As their hands clasped in farewell, Cedric concluded.
“All houses are eager to witness your claim in these lands. There is not a doubt in this realm that your name will carry to the triumph against the gods.”
Alistair’s tone lowered.
“And should doubts arise, I trust you will make me aware.”
“So long as I hear the tales, the realm’s whispers are at your will.” They resigned their binding hands, and Cedric left.
Lucien called as Lord Alistair moved towards the door.
“My lord, might we speak for a moment?”
The lord halted his gait, turning slowly. Alistair’s cackle did not evoke comfort.
“Indeed, you wish to speak of the contract?”
A sigh, long and drawn, fled Lucien’s thin lips.
“Yes, my lord.”
“So be it.” Alistair’s eyes glided past me.
“Neil, escort Fallen. Perhaps educate her in appropriate temper while she is to reside in my company.”
I shivered as the lord looked at me for a spliced second.
“Of course, my lord.” Neil offered his portly arm.
“Please, Miss Fallen.” His rounded cheeks lifted with curling lips. There was a glimmer of faultless light reflected in his gaze.
I accepted his arm, wrapping my own in his.
“Thank you, Sir Neil. And please, call me, Rhoswen.”
As I looked at the soft shimmer in Neil’s eyes, I could feel another’s eyes upon me like a shard of glass against soft skin. Haunting and lingering, I dared to find Lord Alistair watching me. No, not watching. Killers did not simply watch their victims—they pined. Measured. Aimed to decipher what lay within the makings of their prey.
Alistair would never know my capabilities, not so long as the God of Deception resided within me.
The oak door latched behind Neil and me, Alistair and Lucien’s voices but distant muffles in debate.
“Sir Neil,” I spoke softly, finding relief being parted from the lord.
“How fares your time in the estate?”
Neil’s arm hardened.
“This day is an awful day for you to arrive, my lady. I am not to apologize for my lord’s actions, so I will not. But—” His words died as he guided us through the dark where shadows twitched and hummed.
“I have spent many years beside the men of this realm. Do not worry for my sake.” When his arm tensed further, I continued.
“I have met your daughters, Catriona and Maisie. They are lovely girls.”
A slight skip abounded in his step as we chased the beckons of torches in the distance.
“They are my pride and joy. Their mother died so many years ago, but this estate has been a foundation for them. A second home to leave behind the pained memories.”
“I am very sorry for your loss.”
Neil swatted his hand at my condolences.
“Rhoswen, the lord requested I offer you wisdom in navigating his council. I must warn you, his estate does not accept kindness willingly.”
I patted his arm that held mine and smiled.
“You appear to be an exception to such.”
“Ha! Am I so simple to read?” He let out a jolly roll of air.
“With the late lord, Eadric, I had quickly learned to dismiss offers of kindness and keep my lips wired shut. That is, unless my words would strengthen his home, though his definition of strength seemed to change with the cycles of the moon.” Neil muttered to himself.
“He far favored Lucien, regardless.”
“What can you tell me of Eadric’s son?”
“I only caution you to be careful of how you step. Perhaps spend your early days observing and learning. Lord Alistair has always been a difficult man to understand. He spent many years in his study, locking himself away. Ever since he was young, he has held himself severe.”
I gnawed the inside of my cheek.
“Almost like a statue.”
“Very much. Though, as you saw in the cellar, he is not.” Voices purred at the end of the hall. Neil unwound his arm from mine and clasped my hands, halting our steps. He carefully looked around before continuing in a whisper.
“Rhoswen, this home—When the Goddess of Light fell from the Everlaides, you have heard of the smoke that followed?”
I nodded.
“It fell upon this home, inflicting permanent Shadows. The late lord was overwhelmed by the dark magic, irrational and violent. Lord Alistair was marked by Shadows so young. I have not seen what influence it bears upon the lord apart from today, but the late Lord Eadric was a hard-bitten man, the dark veins crawling his skin more days than I can count. Be wary. Be vigilant, my lady.”
Deceit’s bass timbre rasped inside me. A man suffocated by the dark, the gods do not favor. The lord’s life had been fated to ruin, and upon the kiss of the dark, there is no savior. He will fall to the gods’ execution.
Deceit’s magic fashioned my grin.
“I greatly appreciate your geniality, Sir Neil. Please, do not worry about me. As I have said, I have served many men in Andrael.”
“Have you served any marked by Shadows?”
“No, I have not.”
“Forgive me, Rhoswen, but I must speak clearly. You do not understand what you do not know. The dark powers are dangerous.”
My stomach churned in unease.
“If you feel this way, why do you stay?”
His shoulders slumped.
“I have devoted my life to serving the king. This is where I have been called, so this is where I stay.” Footsteps echoed nearby. Neil hushed, his breath gliding against my neck as he whispered.
“Stay silent. Watch. Learn. Do not speak, or the lord might take your tongue. When the blood turns dark, death has been marked.”
Neil cleared his throat as Lucien and Alistair passed, the lord’s shadow draping over me in a cold touch. Neil continued.
“It has been a pleasure speaking with you, Rhoswen. I do hope you enjoy your accommodations.”
I bent my knees in a curtsy.
“Thank you for imparting your wisdom, Sir Neil. I look forward to our time together.”
Neil mirrored my curtsy with a bow and left me in the dark hall beside the front room.
Before I had a moment, Lucien halted ahead and backtracked.
“Miss Fallen.” He placed himself before me, thin face stretching as he spoke.
Had I sucked in my cheeks, they still could not be so hollow as his.
I dipped my head.
“It is a pleasure to officially meet you, Sir Lucien.”
Lucien’s fingers groomed his chin as he cocked his head with slit eyes, marble blue.
“So, the crown has gifted us a young woman as an advisor. Truly, you must hold great fame to be set beside the greatest lord of this realm.”
“Or perhaps our king had simply run out of options.” I played at innocence, fake smile intact, in an attempt to gauge him—determine what approach made him most comfortable. Talkative.
A ripple of lines formed upon his cheeks as he snickered.
“A word of caution, Miss Fallen: leave your modesty behind and uphold confidence in this house. You now sit beside those who will reign in a new era.”
An era of slaughter and dark blood. Deceit’s teeth ground together, sending shivers down my spine.
“I am honored to stand beside Lord Alistair and his house.”
Lucien’s voice lowered.
“Again, Miss Fallen, your modesty is wasted here. And it is not only our lord I refer to.”
“Oh? Who else, if I may ask?”
Lucien straightened his jacket, shoulders lifted.
“Perhaps a man with strong ties to those in the castle. A man with many friends in many high places. A man of wealth, hiring mercenaries to hunt down god servers.”
My brothers and sisters. I fought the desire to cringe.
Lucien’s time would come. Upon a night so hallowed, Lord Alistair would succumb to his death, ordained by the gods. A presage to Carnage, Taison’s red eyes would glow beneath magical moonlight, and Lucien would fall beside his lord. These men would pay for their sins.
“Ah, I see. Is this your warning?” I asked, lips curled, brows high.
“That I’d be foolish to cross you?”
The shadows splicing Lucien’s face seemed to darken.
“Those who have, have indeed died foolish deaths.”
“Then I am gladdened you’ve taken the time to introduce yourself,” I said in a final give of innocence, though I no longer believed this approach was well-tailored for him.
“I have never been this far west. These lands are new to me, so I am seeking new friends.”
“In these lands, enemies are easier to come by.” Well-spoken for a man who hired murderers and befriended the crown.
Innocence would do me no good. Raising my shoulders, I mirrored Lucien’s tone, deepening my voice.
“That seems to be the nature of Andrael.”
“Must I ask you to elaborate, Miss Fallen?”
There it was—a bite. An interest glinting in those marble eyes. A man aroused by rumors. Information.
I leaned closer, granting a truth, laying the groundwork to goad out whatever he might know.
“I heard rumors of a novel potion being used in the western lands. One stolen from the crown.” I paused for dramatics as Lucien reeled closer.
“To change faces.”
His back ironed out with a tilt to his chin. The wall caught his attention as he pondered the stones.
“Hm, curious.”
“Must I ask you to elaborate, Sir Lucien?”
His eyes rolled in their sockets, and he looked down at me.
“I have heard something of the likeness from a villager in Cindermoor. The small village further west, nearer to the elves.”
“But none here.”
A grin crimped his cheek.
“Are you looking for trouble, Miss Fallen?”
“I only beg answers to understand the house in which I stay.”
“You will come to learn quickly that these lands hold many mysteries. There are moments that even I am surprised by what I hear.” A second came and left, taking his unsettling grin with it.
“I have a proposition for you, as a new friend.”
Deceit breathed in my ears, listening.
“I cannot say I have anything to offer you,” I said, showing my empty hands at my sides.
“That is where you may be wrong.” One arm spanning his chest, Lucien’s other elbow nestled into it as he held his chin.
“You see, our good Lord Alistair is wary to trust me. I understand why. His father and I were close, and we had some agreements. I thought Lord Eadric had told Alistair of our arrangements, but, evidently, I was mistaken.”
“And why would you trust me?” I leaned against the stone wall, relaxed, but my insides buzzed with curiosity and desperation for more information. More. More, so I could leave and never look back.
“I do not trust you,” he said.
“But, you are still in the phase of deciding whom you trust, and I’d like to be one of them. I would not put you past my daughter, Freya’s, age, and yet you’ve been meticulously selected by the crown. That is no easy feat.”
“So, I am to be in your arsenal of contacts?”
“Should we play this out right, you’ll become one of my many.”
“I am intrigued.” I truly was.
“What do you propose?”
“I would like you to inform me of anything that seems important about our lord, so I might gain his favor. His trust. In exchange, I will let you know if I hear anything further about this face-changing potion.”
I adopted Lucien’s uncanny grin, using a hint of the god’s magic to mold my lips.
“Information for information.”
“The most powerful of propositions.”
I tilted my jaw upwards, lifted off the wall, and stood upright.
“I quite like that arrangement.”
Lips thin, voice terse, Lucien projected.
“Well then, I look forward to our friendship. Perhaps, our mutual trust.”
“Likewise.” I did not scratch any further or go searching for more meaning. Clarity would come in time, and I was content I’d been approached by a potential ally. Rather, as much of an ally as I could have with someone who sends mercenaries after my brothers and sisters.
Lucien did not offer his hand, letting me say goodbye to his back as he made for the front room. As I watched him go, I was beginning to believe I would have no need for the art of seduction to achieve my task here.
What a lovely friend you’ve made. Deceit sounded pleased.
I considered what Neil muttered moments ago. Lucien was a man favored by Eadric—perhaps a confidant. Lucien could be valuable.
I walked through the corridor, seeing a glimpse of those in the front room.
Flames danced in the nearby hearth as men conspired beside the stones. Captain Tynan laughed raucously beside Cedric, who closed the distance and spilled whispers into Tynan’s ears. Lucien twisted his plait between his fingers and threw the braid like a whip to his back and sidestepped his way into the conversation. I could not make out their low voices, but I could tell they were scheming. Neil joined, though he was quickly whisked away by the demands of his eldest daughter, Catriona.
I listened to my own footsteps as I neared the front room. They are wise men.
Deceit laughed. Do not tell me you fear them. You have a god, child.
And the lord has the powers of the dark. You do not even understand the powers.
Deceit’s tail coiled around my spine.
I emerged from the doorway, my wandering eyes immediately taken to the corner beside the bookcase. There, leaning against the old tomes collecting dust and rumors, stood the lord of the estate. His dark hair cascaded down his brow, ending at the curve of his jaw. His glare narrowed upon me, but I did not see his black eyes.
All I saw was red—
Wine-filled chalices, Hendry’s blood pouring down his face, the Raven banner whisking across the cellar. Red was vivid.
Rage pulsed in me, nausea settled deep, but I kept my calm mask affixed.
I made for the banister of twisted spindles and climbed towards my quarters.
Tsk, tsk, tsk. Deceit clicked his tongue. The air is thick as it presses down your lungs, but your death is destined to be sung. It is inevitable, the passing of days. So why is it you fear your body’s decay?
Deceit’s odd rhymes scared me once but grew dull as the years passed. Still, his knowing—his tale of death—was as haunting as a ghost that could only watch, not touch. Eerie, but without consequence.
I do not fear my place here. I fear him. I didn’t dare glance back at Alistair. He serves the dark that is driving this realm to eternal damnation. I have never been in the same house as a servant to Shadows. And I have never stood before a lord who has killed in front of his estate. He made a show of it, Deceit.
Death is inevitable, my dear. All men must breathe their last breath.
The god never allowed me to misplace this—the inevitability secured for all.
My last breath might come too soon.
No, child, he promised. Not until I am done with you.