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He took one last pull from his civar then pressed his lips together. Why did it bother him to let the tiny creature lag behind? He stooped down and picked her up around her chubby middle and set her on his shoulder.

“Wo,” she said with a giggle. “I wasn’t expecting to get to ride on the master of darkness’s shoulder.”

“The master of what?”

“You have a dimple when you smile. It’s strange that it gives me tummy butterflies.” She blushed furiously, twirling a curl around her finger. “Oh, and I said the master of darkness. It’s what you are, isn’t it? I like it better than the Black Mage, and I’m not sure if we’re on a first name basis quite yet. Unless you prefer I call you Hel.”

“I think I like the master of darkness.” He chuckled and dropped his civar onto Synick’s face and stepped on it with his boot, smashing it in.

“Ahh, that burns!”

“Does it? I never would have guessed.” He was tempted to end him now and be rid of the problem. How much of a fight would it be with Valeen? He licked his lower lip, would it be worth the argument? Either way, at some point in the very near future, Synick was dead for touching Valeen. The way he’d put his hands around her neck… Hel stepped on Synick’s hand, smashing his fingers, and didn’t stop until he heard the bones pop.

Synick cried out once and slammed his jaw shut. Then with a snap of Hel’s fingers he floated off the ground a few inches and trailed behind him once more.

After a brisk walk Hel came upon a familiar black rocky ridge. The shiny boulders jutted up above the grass about ten feet, and in the valley below awaited the location of Castle Starcrest.

Quickening his pace, he stepped into a gap between the rocks. The wind picked up, whisking his black hair about, snapping his cloak behind him. Unease twisted his gut and Hel gulped. Tifapine gasped and put a hand over her mouth.

It was indeed Valeen’s castle—in ruins. The moonstone had crumbled in on itself with moss and other vegetation growing on top of it. One section where the walls still stood was riddled with holes and weathered stone. Vine-like weeds overtook much of it, and a great oak grew out of what he suspected was once her throne room. Although there were many flowers blooming around it, one couldn’t say there was a flower garden as there once was. Grass, weeds, and a few birch and aspen trees grew in between the blooms as the wilds took over.

It was in worse shape than the manor in Ryvengaard they’d stayed at for months while he trained Valeen, where she slowly began to remember her past. This wasn’t livable, and certainly not a place fit for his queen. It would be hazardous to even step inside the portion where the walls stood.

A small ache in his chest made him shift uncomfortably. This was where he married Valeen, made love to her, gave her his everything, and it was gone, taken by the enemy, and the cruelty of time, time that was stolen from them. He told her he’d return her toherthrone, and it didn’t appear that he could keep that promise now. But he would make the people responsible for this bow to her and build her a new throne made of their fucking bones.

“Is that supposed to be the castle?” Tif whimpered.

“Yeah,” Hel murmured.

“She’s going to be devastated.”

Where are you?Valeen’s voice entered his mind.

He felt like he could finally breathe fully again. If it had been anyone other than Katana, he wasn’t sure he would have let her go after them even with Presco to have her back. This place was much more dangerous than Palenor. Immortals lived here. He clenched his hands into fists.I found your castle. I’m looking at it now,he replied.

Oh, good. We’ll head your way then.He could hear the smile in her voice and

debated on warning her but didn’t.

Nothing would prepare her for this.

“Hold on.” He reached up and grasped the gnome’s little legs and stepped off the cliff with a twenty foot or so drop. Wind whipped by as they plummeted. Tif let out a squeal, and then he hit the soft grass, landing in a crouch.

A moment later a loud thump hit beside him, and Synick groaned. “Fucking, prick,” he wheezed. “You could have softened my landing.”

“Why would I do that?” Hel mused.

“That was crazy!” Tif squealed. “You just jumped off a cliff that would have certainly shattered and broken my legs and, let’s be honest, in all likelihood I’d be dead. I’d probably look more like a pancake than a nice round roll.”

“Silence.”

“Sorry,” she whispered.

With an inhale through the nose, he picked up the pungent scent of piss and shit. He stood and walked toward the old ruins then froze with his foot midair above a fresh pile of dung. A large animal was near here and likely more than one.

A fresh plume of smoke drifted out of the top of the standing portion of the ruins. “I wonder what’s in there.”

“Whoever they are, they probably won’t be breathing much longer.” Tif shook her fist at the ruins.