Chapter 41 Accept Help from Heroes #2
“That’s the problem.” I traced the distance between the two kingdoms with one finger. “Time and distance. We can’t hit both sequentially—by the time we finish with one, Auremar might have moved on the other. Or worse, they might have marched to reinforce Solandris.”
“So we split up,” Arabella said, as if it were obvious. “Two teams, simultaneous extraction. Kaz and I will each lead a team, since we’re the most powerful. It’s the only logical solution.”
Every instinct I had screamed against it. Splitting up meant vulnerability. It meant I couldn’t protect her if something went wrong. It meant—
It means she could act without you watching, the voice whispered. Without you controlling. Without you claiming what is yours by right of conquest.
I gritted my teeth. Between our unresolved fight, my status as a potential vessel for an ancient evil, and the way the Heirloom pulsed whenever we were too close, perhaps distance wasn’t the worst idea.
“Agreed,” I said, and watched shock ripple around the table.
Arabella stared at me. “Just like that? No argument? No declaration that I’m too precious to risk or too important to the mission?”
“Would you listen if I did?”
“No.”
“Then why waste the breath?” I turned back to the map, ignoring the way Thorne was grinning.
“We’ll each take a scrying crystal so we can communicate.
You’ll take Meridian Isle, which should be straightforward.
Take Nyx and Vex with you. Both have proven capable of keeping you alive, which is a full-time occupation.
” Arabella shot me a flat look. “I’ll handle Valmont with Thorne—”
“Actually,” Sebastian interrupted, then seemed surprised by his own boldness. “Has anyone considered looking for heroic bloodlines outside the nobility?”
The room went quiet. Even Griffin stopped trying to corral his escaped pancakes, which had led him on a chase around the room.
“Explain,” I said.
Sebastian fidgeted, and a small vine began creeping up the table leg. “Well, nobles aren’t exactly known for their fidelity. Bastards exist. Plenty of them, both acknowledged and not. The bloodline doesn’t care about legitimacy.”
“You’re suggesting we hunt for bastards,” Arabella said slowly. “Noble by-blows scattered across the kingdoms.”
“Not hunt.” Sebastian’s jaw firmed. “Find. Help. Before Auremar remembers they exist and starts expanding his search parameters. He’s arrogant enough to focus on ‘pure’ noble blood first.”
It was, annoyingly, an excellent point. I’d been thinking too narrowly. Of course there would be bastards. Nobles rutted like rabbits and had the morals of honey badgers.
“And you know how to find them?” I asked as Griffin returned to his seat with the escaped pancakes speared on his fork.
“I have connections.” Sebastian met my eyes. “People who trust me. People who definitely wouldn’t trust the Dark Lord of Skyspire showing up at their door.”
I scoffed. “It’s not about trust. They’ll be coming with me whether they want to or not.”
“That’s why it’s called a kidnapping,” Griffin said helpfully, spraying pancake crumbs over his plate in his haste. I glared at him.
I felt Arabella’s subtle shift beside me, the slight tilt of her head that meant she was using her truth-sense. After a moment, she gave me an almost imperceptible nod. Sebastian was being honest.
Which left me at a crossroads. Trust the man who’d been sprouting flowers at breakfast, or throw him in the dungeons for safekeeping?
Kill him, the Shadow King suggested helpfully. He knows too much. He wants what’s yours. End the threat before—
I cut off the thought.
“Interested in joining our merry band of kidnappers?” I asked Sebastian. “Fair warning: The hours are terrible, the moral compromises are constant, and there’s a significant chance of death or dismemberment.”
Sebastian considered this for longer than most would have. I could see the war in his expression—everything he’d been taught about right and wrong battling against the reality of what needed to be done. Small flowers bloomed and died around his feet as his nervousness peaked.
Finally, he straightened. “I’d be honored to help stop Auremar’s atrocities. Beyond that…” He shrugged. “I suppose we’ll see.”
“Good,” I said, allowing myself a sharp smile. “Because that’s all I was offering—a trial basis.”
“So how many heroes are we talking about?” Vex asked. “And what exactly are we going to do with them once we’ve acquired them? Should families be placed together in the guest quarters or given their own rooms?”
“Guest quarters?” I scoffed. “They’ll go in the dungeons, obviously.”
“Absolutely not,” Arabella said immediately. “They’re not enemies.”
Vex nodded in agreement. “The Dark Lady is right. The dungeons would be entirely inappropriate.”
I stared at them both, feeling distinctly ganged up on. “Of course they’re enemies. They’re heroes. I’m the Dark Lord. It’s the very definition of enemies.”
“Are we going to sacrifice the remaining heroic bloodlines in our own ritual?” Thorne asked, perking up with disturbing interest. “Because I’ve been working on some new blade designs that would be perfect for ceremonial bloodletting.”
Griffin’s eyes widened, and the last pancake wiggled feebly on his fork.
“Oh! If we’re conducting sacrifices, I should prepare the proper equipment!
The great hall has excellent acoustics for ritual chanting, and I’ve been experimenting with a new incense blend that amplifies magical resonance during—”
“No!” Sebastian and Arabella shouted in unison.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. This conversation was spiraling rapidly out of my control. The Shadow King’s whispers grew louder, suggesting increasingly creative ways to silence everyone and reassert dominance.
“We are not,” I said through gritted teeth, “sacrificing anyone. That’s Auremar’s approach, not mine.”
“But you just said they were enemies,” Thorne rumbled.
“They are,” I insisted. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to kill them for a ritual, as appealing as that would be. This time, I prefer my enemies alive and thoroughly inconvenienced.”
“Then what are we going to do with them?” Vex pressed.
I sighed. “To answer your first question, we need as many heroes as possible. Every heroic bloodline we secure is one Auremar can’t use. As for what happens after…” I trailed off, not wanting to admit I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I’d been a bit busy.
“The Alchemist mentioned a ritual,” Arabella supplied, watching me carefully. “Something to get the Shadow King out of the ley lines without sacrificing anyone.”
“Yes,” I said, seizing on this. “The Alchemist has a ritual in mind.” I didn’t mention my suspicion that whatever this ritual entailed, it would likely involve considerable pain for all participants. No need to scare off our new recruit before he’d even started.
Sebastian narrowed his eyes. “So we’re just… collecting them? For safekeeping?”
“Think of it as preventative custody,” I suggested. “We’re preventing worse kidnapping.”
“That’s not a thing,” Arabella muttered.
“I’m the Dark Lord. I decide what’s a thing.”
“And they definitely won’t be sacrificed?” Griffin asked.
“No sacrifices,” I said firmly.
Griffin and Thorne exchanged a look of profound disappointment.
“We haven’t done a proper sacrifice in ages,” Griffin added wistfully. “The last one was when we tried to summon that weather spirit for the solstice celebration, and that hardly counts since it was just a goat.”
I caught Arabella’s horrified expression and Sebastian’s growing pallor, and decided this particular conversation had gone far enough. We had heroes to kidnap and a world to save—preferably without anyone fainting in the war room.