Page 41

“What—”

I didn’t give her much of a chance to respond. Blow upon blow was barely blocked by her sword as I swung with renewed strength. Every hit brought me a little closer to my goal, one that Gennel didn’t realize until my bare hand snatched out and wrapped around her arm at the bicep. That moment of distraction when her head snapped down was enough to shove her, slamming her back against the brick wall hard enough to knock the wind from her lungs. My forehead drove into the side of her face to smash it against the brick as well.

The draw from my left hand was swift and efficient. Within the two breaths Gennel took before she could react, half of the muscles in her left arm from the fingers up to the bend of her elbow were withered and desiccated from the spell. The howl of pain and frustration from her lips made my ears ring, and she began to thrash like a wild rinhound caught in a leg trap. Brittle bone and drying skin began to crack and break apart beneath my relentless grip as the spell crept slowly up to the shoulder joint.

If the bitch was trying to drown me, I would dry her out in equal measures.

“Get…Off!” Gennel roared. She managed to twist her body just enough to push off the wall and knock me off-balance. Unfortunately for her, one arm was too dehydrated to be of much use at the moment, so the shove was weak. It would take more concentration than what she had to spare to try healing it now.

I swung again, cutting a deep gash across the top of her other thigh that had her crumpling to the ground. Those wide brown eyes rose slowly to meet mine, both of us breathing heavily from the exertion of our spellcasting and fighting. In that moment,I saw the flip in her eyes from predator to prey. They darted around frantically to look for an escape route.

“This isn’t fucking over, Morrette,” she hissed. “I will bring Golath back to its former glory, and make sure every part of the Hilj legacy is destroyed for betraying us!”

With a snarled yell, Gennel swept her sword low across the ground aimed at my ankles, and I barely jumped back to avoid the tip of it. A massive cloud of fog burst forth from her hunched form and filled the enclosed space quickly. I could barely see the end of my arm but darted in the same direction I knew the alley’s mouth was to try and head her off. The form I thought was her hobbling body was nothing more than an illusion I swiped at with my sword, disturbing the fog with billowing swirls that swept around me as I spun to reorient myself. The air was heavy and humid, the thick mist seemingly unbreakable and getting harder to breathe. I had to get out before it smothered me or overheated my body.

“Gods, damn it!” I roared. My vision began to waver as I tried desperately to find the boundary of the space manipulated by Gennel’s magic. It didn’t sound like my voice was muffled like before, which hinted that she was already too far away to keep that spell active. But the night was still and stuffy as it was, adding to my discomfort and doing little to dissipate the fog.

Finally, after what felt like wading through a layer of hell itself, I stumbled out of the alleyway and gasped great lungsful of air not oversaturated and trying to suffocate me. It took a good few minutes to recover and cool down. I had to lean back against the front of a store and close my eyes to keep the world from spinning and slow my racing heartbeat.

“Gods damn it,” I whispered again, tilting my head and opening my eyes again to stare at the star-speckled night sky. “Can you possibly cut me some slack?”

Neither the gods I cursed, nor any other benevolent entity, answered me.

Chapter Fifteen

Haron

I interviewed the royal staff from before. Her name is Sinna Val Toric. She was the nursemaid to the children and had

a son of her own that practiced swords with the Princept. She told me of how Morrette Hilj was a fire barely

contained in their body but also compassionate and loyal to a fault. They sought truth and justice above all else, and

even from a young age, shaped the changes of social expectations in their position as a child of royalty. It has yet to

be determined if the Princept escaped the Clifftombs.

-"The Tragic History of Julra," by High Scholar Yuret Wend, Year 39 of Ber's First Reign

Ihad no memory of going back to my room. How I managed to make it back to The Hanging Cat was not an issue, but when I descended the steps slowly for breakfast the next morning, both Gaion and Jessella watched me as if I was about to bring the whole tavern down. Their heads were bent close together as they leaned over the worn wood of the bar, and when my foot hit the creaking bottom step, they both snapped up to stare with concerned looks in their eyes. Even with advanced healing, I'm sure I looked wrecked hobbling through the tavern door at an ungodly hour. I only felt slightly more alive today, albeit much less bruised and cut up.

“Good morning,” I croaked. I needed some water, or maybe an ale. “Are there leftovers from dinner I can scavenge for breakfast?”

Jessella was the first to unfreeze, cautiously approaching until she stopped a few feet away. My eyes narrowed in suspicion; usually she was running and leaping at me any chance she got. Now she almost seemed… scared. What exactly did I do last night?

“Hey…” she finally greeted me. “Are you… are you ok, Haron? Gaion and I were so worried about you when you showed up late last night looking like…” Jessella couldn’t seem to finish her sentence, but a violent shudder shook her body. Her eyes, usually a sparkling honeyed brown, looked shadowed and haunted now.

“Ya looked like a fuckin’ demon,” Gaion added. “And I’ve known some pretty vile demons, human-shaped or otherwise. What the hell happened to you yesterday to come in here with some wild, thrashing shadows knocking everything off the tables and walls? I never saw a magic like that in my life.”

No…

Knowing I was still under their scrutinizing stares, I hesitantly turned to look at the front of the tavern and see what the damage of my fugue state cost me. Deep gouges ran along the ceiling, walls, and floor around the entrance, like some massive creature with flailing claws had crawled its way through the front door. There was a distinct lack of tables along the path to the staircase, along with a vivid scorch pattern burned into the worn wooden floor. Two distinct lines with lighter waves of black around them, as if whoever had walked across the tavern had been on fire.

Gaion rubbed his forehead like he was trying to smooth out the wrinkles in his concerned expression. “You were… I tried calling out to you, but it was like nothing was going on up here.” He tapped his temple. “Luckily the tavern was empty since it was so late, but I am damn sure if someone saw you like that, they would have hauled you straight to the warded dungeons where they put the wild spellcasters. Is that what you want people to think? You’re so drunk on power you can do whatever you want without consequence?”

I blinked. “Pardon? Where is this coming from?”

“The notices from the guild? You coming in like the fucking harbinger of death? Rumor has it you threatened Jinon Pid with hislife?” Gaion’s face was turning an unhealthy shade of purple. “Gods damn it, Haron! How else do you think this is going to end besides getting put down like a rabid dog?”