Chapter Two
Helspira
WHEN THE GRAND YET dilapidated door squealed open, Helspira’s focus landed on the haggard man standing in the opening.
Punch him in the face and usurp his house.
The intrusive thought made her frown, but for as commanding as her internal, demonic impulses were, smothering them had become second nature. Favoring a polite smile over a skull-crushing assault, she leaned into a civil bow. “A very good evening to you, sir.”
“You’re not my client.” The man expressed mild surprise before he tapped an engraved scrap of wood dangling by a lone, rusty nail. “May I direct your attention to this sign?”
Helspira arched a brow as she processed each carved letter. Learning to speak the local Siapharian tongue had been much easier than learning to read it, but the message was simple enough: NO SOLICITORS.
“This sign is a lifeline,” the man said, scythe on his shoulder, as he leaned against the doorframe. “It helps dissuade people from asking for things, which is particularly useful, since I’m incapable of saying no.”
Her smile only spread. This must have been him. That sign may have stopped the other Red Sentinels from upholding the queen’s order, but it wouldn’t stop her. “I need you to accompany me to Queen Saelihn’s castle.”
“No.”
Her head snapped back in surprise. “But”—she pointed to the sign—“you just said—”
“I’m so sorry. Where are my manners?” He flashed a mouthful of surprisingly well-maintained teeth for a human who looked like they barely combed their hair. “No, thank you.”
Did she have the right man? Suddenly she wasn’t sure.
Undeterred, Helspira stood taller and proffered a hand.
“My name is Helspira, Red Sentinel acting under Banneret Rowan. I’m looking for Sikras Nikabod, the Glowing Cat’s Eye in Death’s Darkness, former necromancer to Queen Saelihn of the Kingdom of Nyllmas. Is he present?”
The man spread his arms and struck an unenthusiastic pose. “Congratulations. You found him. Did Saelihn just not get the message when I refused her other summonses, or is the elven queen finally starting to show signs of old age in her second century of living?”
Helspira wrinkled her nose. “So, you are Sikras Nikabod, the Glowing Cat’s Eye in Death’s—?”
“If you’re intent on addressing me by the parasitic spirit that chose my body as its host and not my actual name, Catseye is fine,” he said with more nonchalance than she expected. “Perhaps you’d care to enlighten me as to why everyone is always shocked to discover I’m the fabled necromancer?”
Embarrassment surged like a storm. The man before her looked nothing like the folkloric hero who had singlehandedly slaughtered armies to protect his kingdom.
Helspira’s mind had painted a much different image when she had heard tales of his exploits.
Even the weakest demons in Chthonia looked more menacing; with his gray hair and gaunt face, this man more resembled the ghost of a hero than an actual one.
“Apologies, it’s just ... You don’t really look anything like—um, you know what?
That’s not important. Queen Saelihn hereby summons you to appear before her to discuss the circumstances surrounding your many, many years of tax evasion. ”
“Blood and bone. The Red Sentinels double as tax collectors now?”
Despite her form-fitting armor inhibiting her pose, Helspira puffed out her chest, hands on hips. “Yes. Well, no. Although, a unit of sentinels await us just outside your gate if you refuse to comply with the summons regarding your crime.”
“I see. Drew the short straw, did you? You’re the lucky one who must drag ole Catseye kicking and screaming from his precious sanctuary?”
“If it’s necessary, but I’m hopeful there won’t be much kicking and screaming.” Helspira attempted a sweet smile. “It’s embarrassing to make a grown man wail, but if I must for crown and kingdom—”
“Can’t I schedule something with Saelihn?” Catseye gestured to his uninspiring garb. “As I recall, she’s a stickler for appearances. I’d hate for her to see me in anything other than my finest regalia.”
“My superior said you scheduled and neglected to appear for eight summonses. I’m afraid I must insist you come with me now.”
A heavy sigh dropped Catseye’s shoulders. “And a handful of Red Sentinels are just beyond my gate, you say?”
“Correct. You must’ve left quite an impression on them. I was the only one willing to cross the threshold onto your property line.”
“I see. And you’re certain you don’t want to be lucky number nine on the list of rejected summonses?”
A somber tone overpowered her saccharine one, and she gestured toward the horizon.
“Queen Saelihn would not have sent so many if the situation didn’t grow more dire by the week.
Look around. The wind grows colder each day, and it carries the stench of death with it.
An unnerving stillness settles not just over our city of Vinepool but the kingdom of Nyllmas as a whole.
Don’t you see the sickly, gray hue in the sky where color used to be?
The black, gnarled branches where greenery once bloomed? ”
“With respect, Miss Helspira, those things happen every winter.”
Knock him out and drag him if he won’t come willingly.
A nervous laugh bubbled from her, and she turned away to take a soothing breath.
She held it for one, two, three seconds.
Exhale, and ... There. Calm. No matter how loud the demonic impulses roared in her head, she just had to remind herself that she was the only one who could hear them.
And thank fate for that. Even her sane side sounded absolutely senseless sometimes.
No matter how much this Catseye protested, failure wasn’t an option.
She couldn’t let Queen Saelihn down—not when she owed her everything for welcoming Helspira and her parents into the safety of Vinepool after they had fled Chthonia.
Other Red Sentinel members may have been unsuccessful, but she would prevail, and she would do it with the words and decorum of a human rather than the violent tendencies that her kind was known for.
“I anticipated your reluctance, so I prepared a speech on why it’s in your best interest to accompany me. ”
“Gods above.” Catseye recoiled, aghast. “You’re threatening me with a motivational speech? Diabolical.”
Helspira blinked. “A speech is hardly a threat.”
Catseye’s head dipped back, and he freed a dramatic groan.
“Saelihn won’t let this go, will she? Honestly, I could handle the Druidic emissaries disguised as birds and rodents, and the relentless letters cluttering up my mailbox, and the wave after wave of Red Sentinels trying to drag me in, but a pep talk?
I admire your creativity, Miss Helspira; it’s as brutal as it is effective.
If all Saelihn wants is her precious ‘tax money,’ then fine, I’ll accompany you. But I do hope that’s all she wants.”
The breath she’d taken in preparation for her speech flew out her lungs in an exasperated cough. “Really? That’s where you draw the line? Not sword-wielding sentinels or royal summonses, but speeches?”
“Rest assured, it’s nothing against you.
I’m sure you prepared a stirring piece, but long-winded monologues bring me back to my failed wizardry apprenticeship and the droning, hours-long spans of information my mentors tried to cram into my brain.
It’s a disastrous time in my life, and I prefer not to revisit it even in a metaphorical sense. ”
Well, b’yehnz. All that time she’d wasted trying to perfect every little sentence, applying all the knowledge she’d gathered about human psychological behavior to appeal to him on an emotional level, and he folded before he even heard her opening? She’d spent two hours on the first paragraph alone.
Helspira sighed, lips tightening. Okay. Fine.
It didn’t matter. At least he agreed to come with.
What was that human saying? Beggars shouldn’t be choosers, or something like that.
But what was that bit he had mentioned about Druidic emissaries?
Queen Saelihn never mentioned the deployment of any hired hands with the capability to shift into animals.
Before she could request clarification, Catseye raised a hand.
“Just give us five minutes before departure, would you? My brother-in-law is currently engaged in honoring the dying wishes of a client, and we’re nothing if not the epitome of professionalism around here.”
Lurid moans of pleasure from down the hallway severed the temporary silence, followed swiftly by what Helspira assumed to be a headboard slamming against a wall. Discomfort stiffened her arms, and she arched a brow. “Do I want to know?”
Catseye stepped outside and closed the door behind him. “Probably not.”
“Fair enough.” Having traded the sound of awkward moans for even more awkward quiet, Helspira gripped her elbows. She rocked back and forth until the absence of sound became too much to bear. “Nice scythe.”
“Thank you.”
“Where’d you get it?”
“Death.”
“I ... Okay. As in the physical embodiment of—?” She scrunched her nose. “I’m sorry, I don’t know how to respond to that.”
“I’ve been told I have that effect on people.”
Despite everything, Helspira smiled. “I usually have the same effect. Different reasons, of course, seeing as how I don’t currently possess a weapon once owned by an omnipotent entity, but”—she shrugged—“the same effect nevertheless.”
He flashed an unpredictably dashing grin. “No one ever knows how to respond to a Red Sentinel. Authority figures leave an uneasy taste in peoples’ mouths.”
Her sudden burst of laughter surprised her, and she shook her head. “No, not because I’m a sentinel. I meant”—she gestured to her horns—“this whole situation.”
“I’ll admit, pink isn’t a common hair color in Siaphara, but—”
“The horns,” Helspira interrupted, amused laughter still escaping between words. “Look, it’s very sweet of you to have pretended this entire time you didn’t notice, but I know what I am to humans.”