Chapter Four #2
Helspira sighed. “Diplomacy may not be Banneret Rowan’s strong suit but not dying is.”
“Well”—Benjamin flopped into a nearby chair—“he’s got one up on me, then.”
“Listen, guys.” Helspira crossed the room and placed one hand on Sikras’s shoulder, the other on Ben’s.
“I love this place. This is my home. I will do anything to protect it. We can be the heroes that Nyllmas needs. I give both of you my word; I will use everything in my power to help us see this through as successfully as possible.”
Sikras glimpsed Benjamin, who stared back with hollow sockets. Dammit. He knew that look. One dramatic sigh later, he waved his hand in surrender. “Fine. I’ll play nice with the banneret. But only because Benjamin can somehow give me the puppy-dog eyes despite his distinct lack of corneas.”
“You’re in? You’re in!” Excitement exploded from Helspira, her natural eye twinkling.
She clasped her hands and freed a high-pitched squeal before pacing the floor like an excited scent hound.
“I’ll give Queen Saelihn the good news. I—I’ll rendezvous with Banneret Rowan, and we’ll start forming a plan—”
“Helspira, please understand, I don’t mean to sour your joy.
” Sikras fixed his unrelenting stare upon her.
“I will be aiding Nyllmas as Sikras, not Catseye. On threat of imprisonment, I will do what I can, begrudgingly and probably with a lot of complaining, but I will not be doing anything that comes at the cost of Benjamin’s life. ”
Her smile only grew, bright and hopeful. “I’m not worried. Casters are resourceful. At least, Cecil was.” A frown swiftly replaced her expression of mirth. “Not always in the best ways but resourceful, nevertheless. Either way, we’ll make this work. You’ll see.”
Damned if her na?ve optimism wasn’t a little contagious. Sikras offered a nod and a small smile. “I admire your enthusiasm.”
Spine straight, Helspira inhaled deeply, fully. “I should get moving. Please let me know if you two need anything.”
“I’ve everything I need right here,” Benjamin said. “Oh, I wonder if that thing I hid under the bed is still there.”
As Benjamin vanished under the frame of his old, wooden bed, Sikras walked Helspira toward the door. “Before you depart,” he said, voice lowering, “there is one thing I need.”
“What is it?”
“Your solemn vow that no harm will come to Benjamin in this little excursion.”
Helspira flinched, rubbing the back of her neck. “I can’t promise that. People die in battle all the time.”
“I would neither trust nor burden you with this, but Benjamin seems to like you. You seem to like him. You know as well as I do, he and I are not topping the Red Sentinel’s list of preferred company, and allies for sentient skeletons and reclusive necromancers are difficult to come by.
I’ll keep him safe from Vessik’s legion.
” Sikras locked onto her gaze, unyielding.
“I need you to promise you’ll keep him safe from Saelihn’s. ”
“The queen told me that Ben is a dear friend. She’d never—”
“Never means nothing in desperate times.” Sikras stole a glimpse of Benjamin to ensure he remained distracted.
The leg bones poking out from under the bed confirmed he was.
“Saelihn adores Benjamin, but she loves her kingdom. A part of me admires her tenacity to do everything in her power to protect it, but a far larger part of me fears it all the same. You said you’d do everything in your power to see this through successfully.
Successfully, to me, means no harm comes to Benjamin from the side of our supposed allies. Do I have your word or not?”
Helspira inclined her chin, skepticism lining her stare. “Are you always this distrustful?”
“You may believe in casters now, Miss Helspira, but once I walk onto that battlefield, unable to do the same things I once could ...”
A surprisingly comforting smile bloomed. “I won’t pretend what I saw in the Grand Hall wasn’t impressive. But I also know harder battles have been won with the mind rather than raw power. How about I believe in you enough for the both of us until you have the means to do it yourself?”
Had he heard her correctly? Sikras opened his mouth to reply, closed it, opened it again, but none of the swiftly formed responses in his brain felt right, accurate, appropriate. People believed in Catseye, but it had been a long, long time since anyone believed in Sikras Nikabod.
“Besides,” Helspira continued, “Her Majesty said even the illusion of your participation would still be a beacon of hope for people. Representing the Cat’s Eye still has perks, whether you invoke them or not.”
Sikras huffed. The illusion of participation? Of course someone like Saelihn would say that. He parted his lips to speak out on the queen, but clamped his mouth shut.
No. Saelihn’s secret was not his to tell.
“If you need to hear it out loud,” Helspira said to break the silence, “you have my word. I’ll keep an eye on the Red Sentinel and make sure they intend Ben no harm.”
Sweet relief. A heavy sigh dropped his shoulders.
He’d only just met this woman. Trusting her with this was far from ideal, but with the pool of candidates at an all-time low, beggars couldn’t be choosers, and she’d already ticked the most important box; she treated Benjamin like a person instead of an abomination.
“Thank you. Now, if you’ll allow me, I must apologize for my behavior in the Grand Hall.
It’s casual, murderous outbursts like those that Vessik used to prevent me from falling victim to before—” He stopped short, sputtering a miserable laugh.
“Nevermind. It was unbecoming. Please accept my offering of remorse and share it with the remaining R.S. members who had to bear witness. Except Rowan. Fuck that guy.”
“You’re ... sorry?” Her head flinched back. “That’s your word for remorse, right? Huh. Somewhere in Chthonia, a river of lava must have frozen over. I don’t think I’ve ever heard a man use that word in the whole of my thirty-three years.”
“Well, you shall hear it now. Punishing the whole for the actions of one is a character flaw I prefer not to emulate anymore.”
A slow smile grew to beaming. “Apology accepted?”
“Excellent.” Exoneration flew from him in the form of a deep exhale, and Sikras laid a hand over his chest. “Thank you, Miss Helspira, and good night. I look forward to slaughtering Vessik’s heathens with you.”
“You can just call me Helspira, Hels if you prefer. And you? Do you favor Sikras? Catseye? Mr. Nikabod? Everyone around here refers to you by so many titles.”
“Take your pick. I’ll respond to them all.” His upper lip curled, and he shuddered. “Just, please, not Mr. Nikabod. I’ve a certain someone in my life who refers to me as such, and it sends unpleasant shivers up my spine each time.”
“Well, in keeping with the rest of the Red Sentinel, Catseye it is. Maybe one day you’ll share the story of how you came to earn that fabled power of yours.”
“I wouldn’t exactly use the word earn,” he muttered absently. “But, sure. Maybe one day you’ll do the same for me.”
Helspira laughed, quick and curt. “Any talents I have are just natural demon biology. I promise, I’ve no power worth discussing.”
With splayed fingers, Sikras fanned his hand out before her.
“Nonsense. You don’t see it? The demon who escaped the nightmares of Chthonia and carved out a home for herself in the slightly less-aggressive land of Siaphara?
I only recall bits and pieces of Chthonian culture from my wizardry apprenticeship, but you’d have to wield quite a bit of power to make it out of there alive, particularly with your humanity intact. ”
A thoughtful pause, a gentle smile, and Helspira stood a little taller. “I never thought about it like that.”
“Yes, well, credit where credit is due. Until tomorrow, then.”
Helspira offered a final nod before she disappeared into the hallway. A soft thud ensured the door closed, and Sikras smoothed his tunic’s sleeves as he turned around.
“It’s like I never left,” Benjamin called out from under the bed.
Sikras frowned. It would’ve been nice to share his brother-in-law’s enthusiasm, but he couldn’t help but feel an unsettling churn in his stomach.
Maybe it was the adrenaline crash after nearly losing Benjamin again.
Maybe it was the physical discomfort of magical backlash still ravaging his body after that spell.
Maybe he was hungry.
Or maybe ...
The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and a chill rattled through his spine. He cast a knowing glance over his shoulder.
And there, a figure appeared, standing in all her robed, cliché glory.
“Well, well, well ...” Sikras spun, arms crossed. “I was wondering when you’d show up.”