"Pardon the intrusion, Erebus." I said, stepping through the doorway with an apologetic smile, doing my absolute best not to gawk. The last time I'd seen this place it'd been the only structure untouched amid a sprawl of limitless destruction.

  "Not at all. We have few visitors these days." He waved me in, gait smooth as silk.

  There was a flash of dark fur and skidding claws as a dark silhouette whipped around the corner. I reached for my sword instinctively, then stopped, dropping to a crouch and holding my arms wide instead. The beast was upon me, taut, corded muscle of his lithe form put to the singular purpose of knocking me to the ground, bristled tongue worrying my cheek as I laughed, scratching him behind the ears. An ungodly stench reached my nose, and I tried in vain to push his muzzle away. "Gods take me, your breath!"

  "The reality of tending carnivores, I'm afraid. No amount of pampering will interdict the effects of diet. Kerai." Erebus said, breaking from his usual calm in a terse, strict tone that demanded attention. "Manners. Manners!"

  "He's alright. My fault for leaving him for so long." I started. But to my absolute surprise, Kerai listened, giving me a lingering look before mournfully withdrawing, padding towards Erebus with a wide yawn, circling the hem of the man's robe and taking a seat at his right side, intelligently waiting for whatever command came next. The difference was stark. "Impressive. He responded quickly. The results of your efforts continue to bear fruit."

  Bernard sighed, giving the cat a light scritch behind the ears. "I planned only to refine the discipline that was already established. Beyond that, it was my intention to simply show you the path. In most cases, training is an important start to the bond between beast and master. But even for his breed, he is entirely too sharp. Others in my house were already commanding him as if he were one of our number, and he responded easily, though the absence of localized foundation was obvious. So I tamed what was left of his wildness."

  "Kind of you. Though in truth I feel a little guilty."

  "Don't concern yourself. The work itself was trivial. I've no idea how such a malleable beast survived so long in the wilds of the Everwood—in fact I'm almost certain there must be more to his story, but he's been a delight." Erebus's eyes twinkled.

  "Apologies." I massaged the big cat's neck, speaking to him directly, and he leaned his warm head into my thigh in apparent acceptance.

  "Command him as you would one worthy of respect, like a companion or soldier." Erebus suggested.

  Easy enough.

  "Check the perimeter for danger." I tried, awkwardly again, not really expecting a response. To my absolute shock, the big cat reacted immediately, parting from my side and sniffing around the shelves, muzzle to the ground, eyes alert as he searched the immediate vicinity. I got the sense he would have searched the entire floor and possibly the second story if no one stopped him, so I called him back, cancelling the command.

  Curious.

  "Good. Now flank our mutual friend." I tried, almost certain it would be ignored. Hesitantly, almost apologetic, Kerai crossed the room and stood behind Erebus, in what was effectively a blind spot, tail swishing in uncertainty. Picking up on the fact that this was causing the animal anxiety, I pointed towards the same book I'd found before the world had reset itself, still upended spine up on the arm of the same chair. "Fetch that for me."

  Happy to move on, Kerai bounded from behind Erebus and gave the book a tentative sniff. It was an interesting test, because there weren't many non-destructive ways for an animal lacking opposable thumbs to retrieve such a lopsided object.

  But instead of dragging it by its cover, the panther examined it experimentally, and, gently, clamped his mouth around the book's spine, lifting slowly upwards until it was free of the chair, cover snapping closed with nary a page out of place. He sauntered over, nudging me until I took it from him, more than a little amazed.

  "Surely you taught him that." I looked to Erebus, who simply shook his head.

  "Where other cats would quickly grow tired or frustrated, Kerai excels. He delights in problem solving, which contributes at least in part to the more mischievous aspects of his personality. But that is a worthy trade for the result."

  "Agreed." I stood there for a moment, feeling the unpleasantness that came along with realizing on top of already receiving a great deal, I was about to ask for more.

  Erebus, intuitive as always, saved me the trouble. "We can go over the finer details at a later time. There are some fundamentals that will aid you much. But from the infernal emissary's presence here, I can only presume that cats are not the focus of today's visit. This way."

  /////

  The drephin woman looked a great deal better than the last time I'd seen her. Still, she bore the hallmarks of captivity, roving eyes that searched for escape, shifting feet and tapping fingers that expressed the desire to be almost anywhere other than where she currently was—seated in the far corner of the room, her knees pulled up to her chest, arms draped around them.

  From the look of things through the cracked door, there wasn't much headway being made, though not from lack of trying.

  "Come now." Maya tried again, cracking a smile that did not reach her eyes. She'd seated herself in a neutral place at the center of the room, cross-legged on a cushion beside the low table. "It's clear that belief is important to you. That faith is a driving factor. You've done a great deal in service to your goddess. In fact, it could be argued that you've risked everything. Your life, your freedom. Everything."

  The woman scowled, red eyes steely. "Yes. So why not unburden myself to the demon-kin who dances at the human's beck and call. Answer the puppet's questions, then find my usefulness expended, corpse discarded in the same hole my uncle was cast into."

  "We looked for him—"

  "—He was my family—"

  "You think you're the only one who's lost something dear to them?" Maya snarled, slamming the table with a fist as she stood, fists clenched at her side. "Now I'm sorry about your uncle. Truly. But the fact that I am here, actively inquiring into other matters means you are in the privileged position of someone with leverage. Stonewall all you like. But you can't do it indefinitely. There are other Drephin out there in possession of the same knowledge, at least a few of whom will be more amenable to sharing. And once we find them, that leverage you hold is null and void."

  "Go find them, then, if it's so easy. I'd rather bide my time than take the word of one who lacks the integrity to show her true face."

  Uh oh.

  Maya stood, illumination from the overhead lamp flitting odd shadows across her visage, fists still clenched at her side. "Perhaps we've made the mistake of affording one so headstrong far too many luxuries." She took a looming step forward, even as the woman shrunk further down, fear flitting across her pale features. "They can easily be rescinded. Did you enjoy it? Being locked in place, unable to lift so much as a finger to wipe your brow? Should we refresh your memory of what that was like—"

  I knocked on the door, loud enough that it opened from the impact, startling them both.

  The drephin woman's immediate, almost palpable relief at the interruption was immediately tempered with suspicion as she recognized me.

  Maya's annoyance disappeared, guilt reading clear in her expression as she stood, stalking to the door. I pushed it open for her, then shut it again once she was clear.

  "That damnable woman." Maya said.

  "Breathe." I counseled.

  "It should have been easy. What sort of fanatic, given the chance refuses to proselytize?"

  "Regardless, you did well."

  "I achieved nothing." She shook her head.

  "On the contrary. We may not have planned it, but you reminding her of the reality of her situation makes what comes next a great deal easier. She'll be looking for a way out, and once presented with such an avenue will be far more likely to bend."

  "That's a generous interpretation." Maya sighed, resting her forehead on my shoulder. "I still think it's an unnecessary risk. We just talked about how important it is to tread carefully."

  "Caution cannot always be afforded."

  "Right. Right." Her expression turned dark. "You really think this will work?"

  I did. In fact, I was far more confident in it now, given the current context, than I had been when first proposing it in the inn. "We give her what she wants with the chance for more."

  She breathed out with a nod. "And after the stick, the carrot will be all the sweeter."

  "Exactly." I glanced at the door, ensuring it was fully shut. "Now I'll need to scold you. Push back. With fervor."

  /////

  "What you do in my name reflects on the entire kingdom!"

  "The drephin have made their position clear. They do not respond to mercy, nor are they deserving of it!"

  "She is a guest of the crown, not a prisoner."

  "Then deal with her. Or I will. And mark my words, she will enjoy it far less than the first time." Maya said, voice dripping with such venom it gave me a chill.

  With a scoff, I opened the door and stepped inside, taking a moment to loosen my collar and center myself before I so much as looked towards the other side of the room. Once I did, it was clear the woman had heard everything. Her posture was upright, at attention, nerves frayed, entirely uncertain what to expect. I was fairly sure she'd been listening at the door, and when the handle had turned, hastily retreated.

  "Good morning. Please accept my contrition. I'm afraid you've been treated rather poorly on my behalf." I rubbed the back of my neck, offering her an apologetic smile.

  Our dynamic had changed. It was clear, from her posture, from the way she maintained a reasonable distance between us, that she still didn't trust me. But from the way she kept glancing at the door, I was no longer her primary worry.

  "Strange." She finally said. "To witness a human noble allowing an outsider to speak to them in such a manner."

  "Yes, well, the infernal emissary brings a great deal to the table, even if her subtlety and tact leave something to be desired."

  "More than something." The woman agreed.

  I rubbed the bridge of my nose, allowing the exhaustion I felt to leak through. "It occurs to me, that despite you being with us for so long, I've never asked your name."

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

  "Viessa," she provided, accent heavy on the final syllable.

  Good. Already cooperating.

  "A pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Viessa. I am Cairn of House Valen. You already know me, of course. The drephin were rather overt in their intentions during that ill-fated clash in the Everwood. Though I believe I heard others in your company refer to me by another name. The Scion of the Desecrator." I took a seat on the low table, steepling my fingers, staring at them in puzzlement. "What does that mean, exactly?"

  Her mouth tightened.

  I rose to my feet again, presenting as beleaguered, unthreatening. "With astonishing application of intellect, I can conclude that the desecrator is, of course, my father. Atrocities follow him as varied as they are vast. Naturally that would make me, as heir, his scion. But that is where intuition fails. Because while he has many enemies, and mine only grow in number, they rarely coincide. Yet from what happened, I can only divine that the Drephin don't see it that way."

  "There is no difference. One human to another." She spat.

  "Then help me understand where that's coming from. Because from the way it was spoken of, shouted from the lips of the defiant and dying—it almost sounded like a mandate. The sort the faithful would receive from the divine."

  Again, her willingness fell to stone.

  "Right." I said, as if I'd just remembered. "You must be worried for yourself. Anyone would, in your place. One attempt on the crown is almost always met with fierce reprisal. Two puts you in rare company."

  "All I wanted was to find my uncle." She insisted.

  I offered her a friendly smile. "Naturally. An assassin does not slow their work to ask questions. I believed you. That's the entire reason we stowed you here, away from the dungeons while we searched for him. In a way, you did us a favor, drawing attention to a far greater darkness stirring beneath our feet."

  It took a second. But eventually, she bit. "What sort of darkness?"

  "Something old. A lithid. Are you familiar with the monster?"

  She nodded slowly. "Creatures that feed off fear." Then horror dawned in her expression. "Then… my uncle…"

  "We didn't find him." I sighed. "The lithid's victims were many. And those it consumed were difficult to identify. But the way he was removed from a secure location without alerting a single witness is in line with how many others were taken."

  Viessa took a step backward, pressing a hand to her mouth. Tears streamed from her eyes, shining with hate. "Is it dead?"

  "Oh, yes." I nodded solemnly. "And it was no easy end."

  "Good." She stared downwards, chest still heaving from the pain of the acknowledgement.

  I let her recover for a while, before I continued.

  "There's no question in my mind that this was handled poorly. By both sides. You may have attacked us first, unprovoked, but prisoners should be safe in their captivity. I'm aware that sounds ironic, given where he was taken from, but suffice it to say the dungeons will be a thing of the wretched past as soon as the crown is handed from father to son."

  I saw grief turn to denial, before I could intervene. Anger flashed in her scarlet eyes. "And how, exactly, was he taken? Torturers and deviants ply their trade into all hours of the night. It is always guarded. And there is only one way in and out."

  "You managed it."

  "I was not dragging another person with me." She argued.

  "In truth, I'm unsure. But the lithid had many abilities that deceived the senses. Toyed with perception. That is how it survives. Slipping between the cracks of mortal awareness."

  "How nice it must be. To blame neglect for my misfortune." She said, every word laden with spite.

  I absorbed that, taking it head on. It was only fair.

  "As I said, blunders were made. Mistakes you suffered greatly for. There are no words to offer that will blunt the sting that comes with losing a loved one, though I am deeply sorry that it happened. With that in mind, I can offer two concessions. The first is your freedom."

  Her head snapped up at that, puffy eyes watching me closely.

  I paced to the nearby shelves, arms clasped behind my back, inspecting their contents. "Before night turns to morning, you'll be homeward bound. Discretely, of course. Escorted beyond the city gates by a number of soldiers I can vouch for, given rations and a horse, and then your destination is your own."

  "If I answer your questions." She realized, scowl returning beneath her tears.

  "No. That will happen regardless of what transpires here today. It's the least I can do."

  I waited, weaponizing the silence.

  "And… the other concession?" She asked slowly.

  "A great deal more conditional than the first." I circled back around, making sure to put the table between us before I reached to my waist, grabbing the hilt of the sword breaker and drawing it out, clutching the pommel with my fingers so it dangled downward.

  And dropped it point first.

  The blade thudded tip first into the table, dull green vibrating with impact.

  "My second offering is reprisal. Pure and simple. Your uncle died in my care. The responsibility did not fall solely on my shoulders, but it was, at least partially, my fault."

  Her eyes searched me, probing, analyzing. "You play with fire, Prince of Whitefall. There is no loyal dog to defend you, as there was in your quarters. Only the magic you wield and that sword at your side."

  "Ah, good point. I won't use my magic. This is a good friend's home, and I'd prefer not to set it ablaze. The sword I only wore out of habit." Idly, I unhooked the hilt from my belt, and cast my weapon upon the ground where it landed with a clatter.

  "Truly, your arrogance knows no equal." She approached the table, clearly taking measure of the blade and the distance between us. "Even if I were stupid enough to believe you, if such an exchange were to end in my favor, my life would be forfeit."

  "That's where you're wrong. Should you succeed, my people will abide by my orders. I've made sure of it. But…" I trailed off, troubled. "How can you be certain? The Valen word is hardly sacrosanct. Elves, especially, have reason to doubt us, drephin certainly counted among that number. So how can you know beyond certainty that I won't use magic? That I will not so much as raise a blade in my defense? How can you believe me, when I promise that there will be no reprisal?"

  I turned my back to her and snapped my fingers.

  "Hello," Vogrin said.

  There was a string of what I assumed to be cursing in her native tongue. I waited until I heard the scroll unfurling and she had a few moments to read over it. The contract was written in her language, so there was no room for misinterpretation or deceit, and I'd told my summon to keep it straightforward, free of the usual demonic doublespeak.

  "It's all there. Every promise I've made put to infernal parchment. You need only take up the blade and exact your vengeance. Should you fail, however, you'll answer a single question to the best of your ability." I said.

  The drephin growled. "Do you take me for a fool? Even if I lacked the sense to deal with demons, you'll use this to force me to reveal the whereabouts of my people."

  "Actually, he can't." Vogrin said, and there was a rustling as he manipulated the scroll. "It's here. On the list of forbidden topics. And this isn't really the same as a demonic contract. There's nothing to be gained here for us. We're simply facilitating the exchange and taking his soul if he reneges on his word."

  Taking it early, rather.

  I kept my back to them, still standing perilously close to the embedded blade. She needed to focus on how easy it would be. To believe it was possible.

  And to be fair, it was.

  Just far less likely than it would have been before the world ended.

  "Excellent, you are signing." Vogrin announced, a little stilted. "Now if you'll just inscribe the date here."

  I felt a disturbance in the air first. Then the song of metal wrested free.

  By any reasonable measure, she was fast.

  It was just that Thoth was so much faster. My mind had been honed by her speed, her relentlessness, a never ending onslaught over the course of a small eternity. And compared to her, anyone else felt slow. I stepped to the side, catching the lunging arm beneath mine, plucking the hilt free of her fingers and turning to cast it back down into the table, where it stuck in the same place.

  Viessa stared at it, jaw working silently as I walked away from her, returning to rest, arms clasped behind my back.

  "Let's start with foundations. Why attack the caravan at all? It wasn't exactly a soft target. My father brought enough manpower to suppress the Enclave, an entire city filled with warriors and skilled practitioners. And he does not prepare poorly."

  "Ah ah," Vogrin warned, as Viessa started for the knife, hand frozen above it. "There may not be any direct repercussions stated plainly in the contract, but failure to uphold your end will nullify the current agreement."

  She halted, her face twisting in frustration. "You said I could go free, no matter how this ended."

  "I also said the concession was highly conditional. Which, if you'd like to refer to it again, is clearly stated in the agreement. My death will not bar your way. But failing to keep the terms will."

  It was cruel, what I was doing.

  I knew that.

  But there simply wasn't time. It was this or something worse. And if she'd chosen to do so, she could have stopped it, right there and then. Clamped her mouth shut, refused to answer or continue, and walked away.

  "Your troops fare poorly in the density of the woods. There were clearings on either side—one where the canopy thinned to scrub, the other opening to grassland—a matter of wingspans away. It was the only opportunity that wouldn't have cost us the element of surprise." She said through gritted teeth. "And we never intended to battle the entire army. Simply to draw you out of your carriages and take aim at the targets that mattered."

  "Fair enough."

  I'd barely spoken before the blade was snatched from its resting place, hurled this time, a whirling razor destined for my eye. I snatched the hilt out of the air, and with the same belabored repetition, flung it back into the table.

  Viessa shook with a rage I knew well. She understood the game now, along with who the fool actually was. But she'd already gambled and lost. And this deep in, it was hard to walk away.

  "No one is forcing you to—"

  "Ask."

  I took a moment, trying to work out the smallest number of questions that would get me the information we needed. "Why both of us? Me and my father? Either would have made sense for a variety of reasons. But both is more difficult to parse. It's not as if you would have ended the entire bloodline then and there. I have sisters at home, both capable and competent in their own way."

  The answer came coldly. "Word was that the king would be returning with whelp in tow. We knew you were the heir. But we were told that you'd be imprisoned, transported against your will. To spare you, as you were as much a victim to the tyrant as the rest of us. Only for our scouts to find you riding in the king's carriage, unmolested and unbothered. Free to move about as you pleased." Her mouth wrinkled in disgust. "It was clear then. That she would never be free. So long as you both drew breath."

  "She?"

  It was a lure. A good one, meant to unbalance me, draw my attention away from the blade.

  Her response was equally good, dropping into a dead sprint, blitzing forward without a second's hesitation.

  But the strikes were slow. I watched them pass me by, moving easily as the blade sang for my neck, my guts, the meat of my thigh. By the end the drephin was so preoccupied with connecting that she didn't seem to realize the knife was no longer in her hand before it struck the table.

  Viessa closed her eyes, breath coming in ragged gasps.

  "Tell me about her. Your goddess."

  There was a long, belabored silence before the answer came. "Since the dawn of this age, we were alone. Abandoned by gods and our brothers and sisters of light and dark. Before we even knew her name, she took us in. Watched over us. Healed our sick and wounded, when the rest of the world saw us only as wretched and diseased. Our number dwindled still. Her favor waxed and waned, sometimes present, others absent. Only recently she began to speak. To warn that Ragnarok was coming. That it would be brought about by the same upstart mortal who held her very chains."

  "The King."

  "Yes."

  "You've been deceived." I frowned, stopping on the verge of saying that there was no goddess held in bondage within Whitefall, that the drephin must have been mistaken. Because no matter how much I wanted to, I couldn't say it with confidence. Because according to Thoth, at some point before the collapse, there had been a deity in Whitefall. That their continued intervention was the only reason the nexus remained viable.

  There was manipulation at play. Of that there was no question. Who was being manipulated and why remained an open question.

  I barely noticed when she moved. Even slower now than she'd been at the start, aggravation and rage hampering her effectiveness instead of amplifying it. The strike was all animus, descending towards my chest as an anguished scream left her lips. I changed my mind, adjusting the strike instead of deflecting it outright. It landed in the meat of my shoulder with a heavy thud, just below the collarbone, far enough from the neck to avoid anything vital. Even as it burned, I trapped her hand before she could twist the hilt, keeping it in place and motionless.

  "You bastard. You utter bastard." She half-sobbed, fight leaving her as she staggered away.

  There was more I could ask. But the biggest questions had been answered. And as she fell to the ground, grieving and defeated, all I could see in her was myself. In the worst of times, slamming into the same wall repeatedly, met with nothing but despair.

  I tore the blade free from my shoulder, casting it into the table, where it landed with a spatter. "My final question is this. We are still sorting through the dead. If by some divine kindness we find your uncle among their number… how would you like him to be laid to rest?"

  The drephin's entire body trembled. For a moment, she considered the blade, and I thought she might pick it up again. Then she hung her head, curtain of hair blocking her red eyes from sight. "Lay him in an open field, near the Everwood. On his back so his spirit can flee to the sky. Dress him in white linens… and…" She choked. "Leave his hands and feet bare, so his form may return to the earth unimpeded."

  "I will. You have my word."

  The door had barely shut before a guttural wail sounded from behind it. I stayed for a moment, forcing myself to listen.

  Then made haste.

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