Chapter 25
Erich felt like a philandering husband slinking home after curfew.
He thought he was used to walking away. But seeing the disappointment on his uncle’s face in person felt as if Uncle Endland had driven Erich’s dagger into his gut.
He had no choice other than to walk away.
He couldn’t be king. Not with the dragon curse slowly consuming him.
If he was lucky, he’d get Liane out before he lost all control. There was no future for Erich.
When he reached the city on foot, the sun was rising on a new day. Four days had passed since he’d last seen Liane. Two, since he’d attacked the city walls in dragon form.
Large swaths of the wall were scorched black, chunks were missing from the parapet, and the crumbled remains were scattered at the base of the wall.
A line had formed at the gate that wound down the road, a mix of pilgrims and merchants coming into town to sell.
Erich joined the queue behind two men whom he presumed to be father and son.
They were perched on the back of a cart piled high with squash and root vegetables.
The father was speaking with an old woman with a large bag strapped to her back, overladen with cabbages.
“Is it true she can heal the withering?” the woman asked with a furtive glance toward her companion, who was clutching his arm, which was concealed in his sleeve.
“If you can reach her. Though not many can,” the older man in the cart replied.
“This is the first bit of good news we’ve had in a long time,” she said, hoisting her pack up higher.
“Don’t know how lucky we are. There’s also a rumor going around that a dragon attacked the city,” the man with the pack said, nodding toward the scorched walls.
“I heard! My stars, what is the Midnight Guard doing, sitting on their hands while the corrupted run mad? I saw a man on the road from Hutthausen, said his entire flock was devoured and he’s come to the city asking for compensation from the church.”
Erich flinched at this. If he had the means, he would have found a way to compensate those who were terrorized while he was in dragon form.
But he not only lacked the geld, he would incriminate himself.
But if he were king, he’d have geld a plenty to send, a voice whispered at the back of his mind.
A thought he quickly dismissed. He wasn’t going back.
“The church is protecting the goddess’ chosen, as they should. If the forces of darkness are attacking, I’d say the church is doing right. We all should return to our villages and not trouble her with our small worries,” said the man with the withered arm.
“Hush now. She’ll heal you,” the woman with the pack chided.
“Should have left me behind to die in peace. If they catch me...”
Then the line lurched forward as more people were let in through the gate.
And Erich noticed the space around them had grown, and the others eyed the man skeptically.
Typically, those with the withering were treated as social pariahs, borne of the belief that it was contagious.
The man in the cart and his son shifted uncomfortably.
Erich felt for the man; he’d been subject to similar scorn and hatred from people once they’d realized what he was.
This world wasn’t kind to those who were blighted. It wasn’t fair and it wasn’t right.
The line moved forward, and Erich noticed the guards were checking everyone who was attempting to pass through the gates, and as the man in the sling reached them, they turned him away.
He and the woman with the cabbages retreated, dejected.
By the time it was Erich’s turn, he was a jumble of nerves.
The pit master’s token was lost, and after his performance last night at the gate, he wouldn’t be surprised if they turned him away or arrested him on sight.
He intended to use the allure to convince the guards to let him through.
And if that didn’t work, then he’d fight his way in if he must. Whatever it took to get back to Liane.
A guard waved him forward, and Erich held his breath as he attempted to school his features into indifference.
“Reason for entry?”
“I’m here on business,” Erich said, infusing his words with persuasion, glamouring the guard to see what he wanted them to see: another merchant coming in from the countryside. The clothes he was wearing, hopefully, helped sell the illusion.
His luck had run out, it seemed. The guard’s gaze snagged on him as he surveyed him up and down, and then he signaled for his nearby companion.
Erich shifted from foot to foot, clenched his fist, and reached for his dagger, but he’d lost it when he’d shifted early.
It was probably lying in a gutter somewhere in the city, along with the tattered remains of his clothes.
“Can you step aside for a moment?” they said.
Erich’s hand flexed, prepared for a fight, but he lacked weapons.
He wasn’t even certain if he could transform and fight, even if he wanted to.
Days of transformation had depleted him.
The guard turned his back to him, presenting an opening for him to attack, but before he could strike, a heavy hand landed on his shoulder.
Erich looked up to see one of Leonhard’s goons—the one with the scar across his face—grinning at him.
“He’s with me. Leonhard vouches for him.”
The guards looked annoyed but waved Erich to leave with the goon, who steered him down a street with a firm, beefy hand on his shoulder. They headed toward a nearby alleyway, where he half expected to get jumped by more of Leonhard’s men.
“Went on a little journey outside the city, I see,” the grunt commented.
“Thought I’d get some fresh air,” Erich remarked.
“Well, good thing you came back; I was about to hunt you down through the countryside.”
“Wouldn’t want that,” Erich replied, and maybe it was just his imagination, but the brand they’d put into his skin started to burn.
Out of one trap and into another. He supposed he ought to be grateful that they hadn’t assassinated him straight away.
Leonhard would throw him in the pit first, he was certain.
Better to get a show and make some extra coin from Erich’s death to repay his debt.
As he’d suspected, three more armed hunters emerged from the shadow of the alleyway.
“I suggest you come along quietly,” the hunter said.
“I was hoping to meet with Leonhard. You’ve saved me fishing for an invitation,” Erich said.
Erich let them lead him to a carriage and throw him inside. Sandwiched between two of Leonhard’s hunters and with two more sitting in the carriage seat, there was no point in trying to escape.
They rode in tense silence until they reached Leonhard’s town house.
As he was escorted up the steps, Erich had a sinking feeling.
He’d almost prefer being taken to the coliseum.
A servant answered the door and silently led Erich to Leonhard’s study.
The same room where they’d first met. But this time, his face wasn’t pressed to the carpet, and he could see the dark oak shelves lining the walls and the old books.
His desk was strewn with documents, and a half-drank bottle of port sat open next to his hand.
Leonhard looked up as he entered, as if they had an appointment.
“There’s our wayward prince,” he said. So close to seeing his uncle, the comment stung.
Leonhard was taunting him. He was certain of it. Would this be the end of their cat-and-mouse game at last? Had he come to call in his debts?
“You wanted to meet with me?” Erich asked.
“I wanted to make sure you weren’t stepping out on our deal. You got rather far away during the full moon.”
“I had business to attend to.”
“Indeed. Well, I think it’s time this little game of ours came to an end. I can’t keep wasting the resources on keeping track of you. Especially if you’re going to wander so far afield.”
“Pity. Does this mean you’ll kill me?” Erich doubted it. They hadn’t even properly bound his hands or feet as they’d done the first time they’d brought him in. Leonhard didn’t seem like the type for pointless violence.
“No, that wouldn’t serve either of our ends, I’m afraid. But I do have an offer to make you.”
“And what’s that?”
“There’s someone I need to extract. A friend of mine is in the dungeons beneath the Church of Sol. You’ve spent a lot of time within those walls over the last few weeks, and I can think of no one better equipped.”
“That’s why you gave me the token?”
“And to win the favor of a prince. Can never have too many favors.” He winked.
“You’ve got power and influence. The Avatheos brought the avatar to your townhouse. Why involve me at all?” Erich couldn’t help but ask.
Leonhard rubbed his chin. “The Avatheos and I have an arrangement. The hunters are an old order. You could say we were the mold from which the Midnight Guard was formed. But we worship different goddesses. He’s willing to look the other way as long as I’m willing to supply him with test subjects.
At times, our arrangement is even mutually beneficial.
I keep money and power flowing into his city.
And I have what I need to complete my research.
” He gestured to the books lining the room.
“That doesn’t explain where I come in.”
“I’ve tried bargaining to get my friend out. I’ve pulled every lever I can to free her. But the Avatheos won’t budge. She was one of his, you see. And he doesn’t like giving up what he thinks belongs to him. So I’ve been forced to subvert my methods a bit to keep the wheel turning.”
“That’s a long way of saying you want me to do your dirty work.”