“You look terrible,” Kerri said, “I would say I’m sorry, but I don’t like lying.”

Tristan grimaced, he kept his face calm but was frantically looking for a way out. He had considered Kerri to be an issue, but the tier four should have been on the battlefield. Having him here was a waste of resources.

Kerri seemed to be waiting for a retort, However, when no response was forthcoming he continued, “The runner claimed you wanted to see Eve, I can understand that, she has an inexplicable soft spot for you. However, why would you want to see Elder River? He has no love for you and I assume that feeling goes both ways.”

Tristan finally had to ask, “Why am I still alive?”

Kerri sneered, “I’m not a savage, I am pragmatic. Yes, you will die, but you will do so in a way that serves my purposes. I’m thinking of making you die a hero’s death, then being the one to console poor Eve when she mourns your passing.”

Normally that would be a good thing, as the repair of his kern would be necessary for him to die heroically. If he was put back together, then he could handle anyone in the River Caldera, it was a simple fact that a tier fifteen artifact was simply too big of an advantage, even if he could only utilize a single percent of its capabilities. The biggest issue was, that Tristan had already died that death, at least as far as everyone else was concerned.

Kerri’s grin widened as he watched Tristan connect the dots. Tristan realized it was time to bluff, “I don’t think you can get rid of me, you're too weak,” He waited for Kerri to explode, “Not that your inability matters, I only have a few days left to live.”

Kerri jumped to his feet, then had his steam stolen by Tristan’s second statement. Tristan set his bag down between his feet, carelessly letting it tip over backward. Grabbing his jacket he unbuttoned it revealing the injury from the Lord of the Underworld.

“Someone much stronger than you already tried, but Silver Devils aren’t feared for no reason, we’re hard to put down,” Tristan was counting on Kerri’s vindictive nature.

Most people would feel pity for a dying man, but not Kerri. He was immature and would take whatever choice caused the most pain. Tristan had asked to see his fiancé, the likely course of action would be some sort of humiliation. Maybe being forced to live in a latrine, or being allowed to see freedom and life while chained up as he slowly expired. It would be something to prop up his shallow ego.

“Hmm, It’s infected,” Kerri observed, “I think I can work with this.”

Tristan frowned. This Kerri was reacting more calmly than he was comfortable with. Tristan needed to act fast, so he made a real sound of exhaustion before slumping down onto the deep chair. They were built into the wall and made of stone, so the chair did not even rattle when he dropped his three hundred pound bulk onto it.

“You might think that I am rash and immature, and while that is true sometimes, you don’t know me well enough to jump to those conclusions,” Kerri said, “Here’s how this is going to go, you do have information we need. That accursed mine went from weapons depot to fortress, and we have no information on it. You will demand healing in exchange for that information,” At Tristan’s slow nod he continued, “I won’t let you live and you won’t give me all your bargaining power. However, I have bargaining power as well, your friends and family are currently inside the city. Every day that goes by without that information one of them will die.”

Tristan raised an eyebrow, “You were there the day of the sifting, just a few spots ahead of me. Do you think I care about them?”

On the outside Tristan tried to look defiant, but if he was being honest the tone his mother had sounded desperate. Almost like someone barely clinging to sanity. Not surprising, she was married to Shadow Fist. Did he particularly care about a relationship with her, no, but was the information worth more than her life? No, it was not. Next in line would be little Tris, despite the shared name and the part she played in his abandonment, he could not doom a five year old.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Kerri shrugged, “We have enough time to get through them all, and it's not a great loss to sacrifice Forest Caldera civilians for the benefit of the River Caldera.”

Tristan sighed, closing the drawstring on his bag and kicking his feet under the chair, “So what, you’re going to keep me in your office and bring people here?”

Kerri nodded, “Yes in fact.”

Walking over he grabbed Tristan’s bag and hauled him up by the arm. He was at least gratified to watch Kerri nearly tip over from the weight. Still, he was high tier four, and Tristan was base tier three, there was no way he could resist with strength alone. They moved down a hallway, it was made of stone like everything else the only decoration being paintings of previous stewards being sworn in. Kerri’s image was suspiciously absent.

Tristan assumed there was some kind of holding cell in the basement. It would be a little odd for the stewards offices to be sitting on top of a prison, however, it would not be the worst decision, as part of a stewards job was civil service. It was the job Shadow Fist had, and he was very good at it. Knowing the whole Forest Caldera by name helped him excel at this duty.

They turned left almost immediately through the first door they came to. Tristan thought it would be something dark and gloomy, but what he found was a relatively well furnished room. It was not lavish by any metric, but the room had a bench, two chairs, and a window that looked out into the main office.

For a moment Tristan wondered where Kerri had hidden a three foot by five foot pane of glass behind his desk. The painting of the sunset off the ramparts, he realized. When he focused, he could see the painting on the other side of the glass, it tinted everything inside the office various shades of pink and green. It was a pretty clever way to hide that there were observers.

There were observers too. Warriors sat in each of the chairs, both of them were armed with large artifact axes, one giving off the feeling of earth, the other a feeling of frost. It was rare to have two identical artifacts, and upon closer inspection, he found the tier three essence reservoirs mounted in the pommel of the weapons.

The one with the earth kern looked up at Kerri, “Boss, who’s this, and why would you bring him in here?”

“This is a renegade warrior who wants to extort us for the vital information he has,” Kerri informed him, “We are going to make him give us that information one way or another. If he struggles, cut an arm or leg off, but don’t kill him.”

“You want us to lock the door?” The man asked.

Kerri nodded, “Yes, he got away from that blasted elemental lord wreaking havoc on the plains, so don’t think he can’t get away from you.”

“Yes, sir,” they both said.

Tristan was shoved into the room and the door was closed behind him. For a moment he thought about fighting his way out. He could win a fight with these guys, this room was too small and crowded to make use of those axes. No, he would die. They were not elites, but they were more than enough to stop an injured silver devil.

“Sit down boy,” The one holding the ice axe said, gesturing at the bench.

“Can I at least get names, Frosty and Dirty don’t seem to fit,” Tristan tried to make them less chop happy by making a joke as he settled in.

“No, those names work,” Frosty said, living up to his name. After Tristan was seated he proceeded to ignore him, though he moved his chair to keep Tristan and the window in his line of sight.

Unfortunately, that also had the effect of blocking off the door. Maybe his judgment of them had been too quick, no they did not have the fluid movements to match even Kale, but they were rigid and professional. Someone who headed off risks would be more dangerous than their tier would indicate.

Kerri entered his office and stepped behind his desk. Before he sat back down, he turned and knocked a fist against the glass. There was a dull thumping, then he mouthed something that Tristan didn’t catch. It was only when the door opened and a secretary started giving Kerri documents while talking the whole time, that Tristan realized that this room would soundproof anything that was not directly impacting the glass.

Tristan sat there for a few hours, watching Kerri sift through his bag. He seemed to take interest in the book ‘Natural Forces’ though he tossed the skull in the trash bin beside his desk. Tristan’s eyes flicked to the chair in the office beneath which he had stashed the ice box. Hopefully, the chill it emitted would be chalked up to poor insulation.

After a good thirty minutes of actual paperwork, which Tristan believed to be a waste of a tier four’s talents, Kerri straightened slid the books into a drawer, and folded his hands on his desk. Several minutes passed, then a pair of men dressed in the livery of the River Calderas guardsmen marched in, trailing in melted snow. Between them was Conni. It appeared that he had taken Tristan’s comment seriously, or did any amount of fact finding.

It was the right choice, Tristan would not let Conni die. Sighing he slumped his shoulders, “Fine I’ll talk.”

Tristan was not sure what he expected, them to escort Conni out and tell him that he had made the right decision. What he did not expect was for Dirty to say, “Talk then,” and not change posture at all.

“You have to guarantee his safety first,” Tristan demanded.

“I guarantee his safety,” Dirty said without missing a breath.

There was a good chance that everything that Dirty and Frosty said was a lie. All they wanted was in his head, and for all Tristan knew, Kerri never had any intention of killing Conni, they could be having an amicable conversation and he would not know. If Kerri knew about Luke and Siren the chances he would target Conni were low, the last thing Kerri needed was two tier fours on a revenge quest.

Was he willing to risk it? Kerri was right, he had made assumptions based on only a snippet of information, but that meant that he could not assume Conni’s safety.

Sighing in defeat at the futility of it all, Tristan opened his mouth to speak. The door was slammed open and Helen of all people barged in yelling loud enough to faintly be heard through the glass. An angry Eve stepped in behind her followed by Bruce and Lesly.