Chapter 13

As I unfurled the letter, it grew lighter in my hands as if a burden had been lifted. An odd sensation also prickled at the back of my neck. It was like the feeling of being watched by something unseen. I turned quickly but found only the darkness of the forest staring back, so I ignored the creeping unease and returned my focus to the letter.

The first thing I noticed was the same elaborate design on the seal at the top of the letter. On closer inspection, the symbol was a menacing eye with a sword replacing the pupil, pointing downward. The image was unsettling, to say the least, and didn’t exactly scream “good news.”

I began reading.

The opening lines were nothing short of self-congratulatory nonsense:

“Greetings, great and mighty Loony Lord, purveyor of unmatched strength and intellect. Our spy has informed us of how you summoned lightning to eliminate our assassins. On behalf of the esteemed Council of the Eye, I extend our acknowledgment of your exceptional skills.”

I was right. The letter was not good news. It was clearly from the same group that was sending assassins after Jessica. What did they want with me?

Also, did they really have to call me by the name Laine was spreading? And exceptional skills? These people clearly didn’t know I was glowing like a human lantern less than an hour ago. The letter continued:

“We, the Council of the Eye, an all-seeing and all-powerful organization, have taken notice of your recent triumphs. You have proven yourself worthy of our attention. Maurice, our trusted agent, was tasked with delivering this letter should you survive our latest attack.”

The realization hit me like a hammer. Maurice, the guard who handed me the letter before fleeing, had been a spy working with the assassins. No wonder his armor had been so clean after the battle.

I read on, my annoyance mounting with every line:

“We have a proposition for you. Your alliance with Lady Jessica Maxwell is a hindrance to our plans. Should she reach Baran, eliminating her will become exponentially more difficult.”

Why would Jessica reaching the city hinder these guys' plans if they were so powerful?

“Agree to stand down or, ideally, aid us in Jessica's demise, and you will receive a substantial reward. We have the power to grant you any wish that you desire and can offer you membership in our group. Reject us, and you shall be deemed an enemy of the Council.”

I doubted that. They just sounded like morons who were overestimating themselves so far. I didn't feel any real danger from this 'Council.' All it had taken to impede their plans so far was a very large boar.

“Should you agree to our terms, inform Maurice, who will report back to us. If you are reading this letter, that means you have already defeated our last available assassin. Our other personnel will not be able to get there before she reaches Baran. Maurice himself will assassinate Jessica at the earliest opportunity. With her death, her brother—already under our control—will inherit the entirety of the Maxwell family’s property.”

The rest of the letter detailed their “grand plan” at length, a convoluted mess of conspiracies and schemes. Halfway through, my eyes glazed over. It felt like listening to Laine’s stories—unnecessarily long and full of fluff.

“If I’m so dangerous to your plan, why outline it all in the letter, idiot? You’re lucky I’m lazy.” I muttered.

Skipping to the final paragraph, I found the real threat:

“Should Jessica reach Baran, or if Maurice does not report back, we will consider you as our enemy. The assassins you may be able to easily deal with, but we possess resources far beyond them. Rest assured, this letter is enchanted. We will know the moment it is opened."

That at least explained the uncomfortable sensation I had felt when opening the letter.

I sighed and began ripping the letter apart. It seemed I was doomed to be involved with groups of weirdos. First, it was the Order of the Veil and the Cult of the Void. Now it’s these council guys.

I threw the ripped letter to the ground and began debating my next move. The Council’s arrogance was staggering, but their threat wasn’t entirely hollow. If their assassins were anything to go by, they weren't dangerous to me but would still be tiresome to deal with.

Still, I wasn’t about to abandon Jessica to a bunch of lunatics. She may have been bossy, but she didn’t deserve to be killed over some property dispute. Besides, my face was currently concealed because of Ghis’ spell. None of them, not even the Council, knew what I really looked like. Once we reached Baran, I would remove the enchanted cloak, and the Loony Lord would hopefully become just a rumor.

My thoughts were interrupted by a distant scream. Alarmed, I turned toward the forest and broke into a jog. I realized I was heading in the direction I had seen Maurice run.

Moments later, I stumbled upon a grisly scene. The guard—Maurice—lay sprawled on the ground, blood pooling beneath him. Towering over the body, munching nonchalantly, was the King Boar.

The absurdity of the situation almost made me laugh. The boar paused mid-chew, its beady eyes locking onto mine.

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“It’s rude to stare while someone’s eating,” the boar said, its voice calm and conversational, completely contrasting to its shouting before.

Caught off guard, I blurted, “Sorry,” and backed away.

The boar returned to its meal, unbothered.

“Well, so much for the Council’s big plan,” I muttered as I turned to leave.

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The next morning, the caravan was somber. Two wagons had burned down in the previous night’s attack, leaving the remaining ones overcrowded. Injured passengers sat shoulder to shoulder inside the wagons, their expressions grim.

With space inside scarce, Ghis sat with me and Laine at the front of the carriage.

Jessica's carriage had also been abandoned, and she rode on horseback. I recognized the horse as the one Maurice had been riding. She rode it with her usual elegance and confidence.

In her hands was a small, simple wooden cube. It seemed like a puzzle box.

The guard captain approached Jessica and rode alongside her with his brow furrowed. “My lady, there’s still no sign of Maurice. He was alive after the battle, but…”

Jessica’s face softened. “Something terrible must have happened. When we reach Baran, ensure his family is compensated.”

I whistled nonchalantly, pretending not to overhear. I wasn’t about to explain what had actually happened to Maurice. Instead, I turned to Ghis, who was handling the reins of our wagon.

“How much longer to Baran?” I asked.

“Two days at most,” he replied, then leaned closer. “Unless we steal some of the horses and the two of us ride ahead. We could make it there in half a day.”

I contemplated it for a while but shook my head. I already had enough enemies. Besides, I knew from the letter that the Council wouldn’t be able to send any more attackers before we reached Baran. Their last hope had been eaten by a boar the night before. I could afford to wait another two days.

Laine, sitting beside us, was in the middle of another one of his stories, this time about a botched heist.

“The plan was perfect! Three enchanted locks guarded the vault, each tougher than the last. I bribed a guard to hide the keys to each of the three locks under a garden plant. Flawless, right? Wrong.” He paused dramatically, looking at me and Ghis as if expecting applause.

“I made it past the first two locks easily,” he continued, “but as soon as I reached the third, I came upon a chamber and found five other thieves all trying to open the lock. It turns out that the guard was running a scam and had sold identical keys to five other thieves! The room was like a reunion of every con artist in the city. I couldn’t believe it. Everyone was yelling, ‘Who’s got the real key?’ while trying to pick each other’s pockets. Total chaos.”

I tuned Laine out and found myself wondering about the box Jessica held. She had left behind most of her luggage in the abandoned carriage. What could be so valuable that Jessica would prioritize it over all her other belongings?

“So, there I was,” Laine continued, leaning forward as if sharing a great secret, “cornered on the roof of a ten-story building. Below me were angry guards, a raging crowd of thieves, and, for some reason, a very annoyed cat. I had no other option, so I jumped! But luckily, I landed on my feet. I’ve always prided myself on my landings." He sighed wistfully as if recalling a fond memory.

I sighed in relief, thinking his story was over, but he immediately started another. I snapped.

“You failed your ‘shut up’ classes at the Thieves’ Academy, didn’t you?” I asked sarcastically.

Laine blinked, then grinned. “You mean the ‘Silence’ elective? I didn’t take that, actually.”

Ghis chuckled, and I sighed, resigning myself to another day of Laine’s endless chatter.

As he was continuing with his tall tale, I turned to Ghis again, suddenly curious about something.

“Hey, Ghis,” I said. “Ever heard of the Council of the Eye?”

His expression darkened. “Where’d you hear about them?”

“Just tell me what you know.”

He sighed. "They're a bunch of maniacs. It is not as big or organized as the Cult of the Void, but it is way more dangerous. The Cult, at least, is usually slow to act because they need a bunch of paperwork to get anything done. The council will do anything for power, but honestly, they’re just idiots pretending to be stronger than they are. Even the Cult doesn’t partner with them.”

“Your former cult wasn’t exactly brilliant either,” I muttered.

“I promise you. These guys are on another level. Take that incident in Berrith,” Ghis continued, rolling his eyes. “The Council thought they’d intimidate the King by sending their ‘elite’ assassins to his palace. But instead of sneaking in like professionals, they marched up to the front gate dressed in matching black cloaks and announced themselves as the ‘Harbingers of Judgment.’”

He snorted. “The guards thought it was a circus troupe and let them in. By the time they realized what was happening, the assassins were already tangled up in the royal bushes, which they claimed were 'enchanted traps.' It turns out that they just couldn't see in the dark because they refused to use lanterns. Thought it would ruin their mystique.”

He leaned back, his tone growing more derisive. "And then there's their obsession with 'seeing more.' They claim gouging out an eye lets them unlock some higher perception, but I've met a few former members. You know what they told me? Most of them just bump into walls and lose depth perception. There was even a rumor that one of their high priests walked straight into a pit trap during a raid. They'd be a comedy troupe if they didn't have their whole 'ominous and dangerous' shtick going for them."

Ghis chuckled bitterly before adding, “Honestly, if they weren’t so ruthless, they’d be pathetic.”

I was contemplating this new information when Laine stopped his story and pointed ahead. “Someone’s coming.”

Following his gaze, I saw a cloud of dust rising on the horizon, signaling an approaching group.

As the cloud of dust drew closer, a murmur rippled through the caravan. Guards tightened their grips on their weapons, their eyes darting nervously to Jessica for reassurance. Some passengers peeked nervously out of the wagons, whispering among themselves about whether they were facing yet another attack.

The tension was palpable, a fragile thread stretched taut over the caravan. Even the horses seemed uneasy, their ears twitching at the rhythmic pounding of hooves against the dirt road.

The riders emerged from the haze, their polished armor glinting in the midday sun. Their golden cloaks billowed behind them, and I saw a white dragon emblazoned on their banners.

I recognized the dragon from Spuria—and my own wanted poster. These soldiers worked for the duke.

I turned to Ghis and spoke, “Be ready to run at the first sign of trouble.”