The chamber went quiet. Every man, woman, and child that cried so desperately for help merely seconds ago lay in silent piles on the stone floor. The power emanating from below the castle had finally ceased.

“Worne,” Madwen whispered.

Daithi collapsed into an empty chair at the head table, blood drolling into his ginger beard from the side of his mouth. Some of the higher-ranking members of the city still sat in their chairs, drooping so far back as to almost be lying down. Cian fought to peel his eyes open only to see his lord holding his wounds closed.

“Tell me what you’ve done!” Madwen hissed.

The bleeding lord chuckled then wheezed deeply and harshly. “What more… can I… tell ye?” he said. “Look… around… omeness. You did this… Once that magic of yours stopped… so did the suffering.”

Madwen gazed upon the crowd of people who were slowly coming to. Daithi had a point, though no omeness has ever—nor could ever—sway emotions in such a way. On one person perhaps, but on hundreds, even thousands?

Worne entered the great hall, Ayube slung over his shoulder. “We’re leaving.”

“Like hells… you are,” said Daithi, still slouched in his chair. “Guards!” Daithi’s raspy voice shrieked through the great hall. “Seize them!” he coughed.

As with the rest of his dazed citizens, every guard within the hall was either still lying among the piles of men and women or was sitting half-upright against the walls trying to make sense of what exactly had just happened. Most did not bother to look to their lord, and the few who did simply stared back into the mounds of their friends and families before them, letting his words ring hollow.

Worne continued forward, unphased.

“Don’t turn your back on me, dark one!” said Daithi as he broke into another fit of bloody coughs.

Dark one? Madwen looked back to the bitter lord. None of his subjects beckoned his call and he was in no shape to move. He remained collected, however, despite nearly meeting his end. He should have looked defeated, he should have looked as crushed as his ribs and his windpipe, but no, he simply sat—thinking. Plotting, perhaps?

Madwen stepped carefully around the mass of motionless, silent humans, stopping only a few steps away from the broken lord.

“Your rings,” said Daithi, drooped to the side, staring low at Madwen’s arms, his dark eyes hidden. “Some are… some are missing.”

Madwen examined her forearms. “Three of thirteen remaining, yes.”

“That’s what makes… ye different, then? Never seen no man or woman… with such a power.”

“And I’ve never needed to use such power against any man or woman, at least not before tonight”

“Perhaps… we’re more similar than I’d previously admit… fiends and men and all that.”

Madwen caught herself in a smirk, then shook her head. This man, she thought.

“It’s a demon, isn’t it?” said Madwen, Daithi’s eyes still dark. “You’ve made a pact that gives you all this power in exchange for the minds of your subjects.”

“What does it matter?” said Daithi. He flopped his head back and rested it against the high-backed chair; he wished to look the omeness in her eyes. “Ye just want to kill it… It’s all ye ever do.”

“So it can be killed,” Madwen stated.

Now Daithi was the one to smirk and shake his head.

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“That’s funny is it?” asked Madwen, looking down her nose to the chuckling lord.

“I thought ye might surprise me, Madwen, but you’re… you’re just as predictable as that bull of yours. Do ye even know what you’re doing?” Daithi’s voice was still raw, though his coughing seemed to be subsiding.

“Regrettably a little fief lord has refused to tell me.”

“And yet, still ye fight something ye know nothing about, and for what?”

“These people were begging for death hardly ten breaths ago and you ask me why I fight?” Madwen snapped.

“They wouldn’t have been begging if ye hadn’t come here!” Daithi pushed through the pain of shouting.

“If you had simply given us—”

“Given ye what ye wanted? The murderer who killed fifty of our friends and family without reason? Not one of us is above the law, though I can’t say I’m surprised that an agent of the High Crown wouldn’t know this.”

“I don’t pretend to be above the law.”

“Is that so? Then what would ye say is a fair punishment for nearly killing an entire city?”

“That was an accident. If your people hadn’t interrupted me I—”

“It’s our fault, then, is it?”

“I would never say such a thing! Had I known you had outlawed magic I—”

“Had ye known? Tell me, who hid this information from ye?”

Madwen paused. “I… no one told me—”

“No one told ye not to murder also. Should I have to tell ye that?”

“That’s a universal law! How could I have known—”

“Did ye even think once to ask? Or are ye so bloody arrogant to think that the entire kingdom is yours to do with as ye please so long as ye can justify it in whatever twisted way seems fit? I was sat here for days wondering why the High King’s dog hadn’t come to lick my hand until ye sent a dog of your own. And ye have the gall to blame us for your ignorance?”

Again Madwen found herself without words. An indistinct whisper tickled from one ear to the other. “That’s… it’s complicated,” she said.

“Aye, it’s complicated. Something I’d hope ye would come to understand on your own since ye arrived.”

Madwen took one step back, suddenly conscious of the people slowly regaining their wits around her—the people she had almost killed.

“You still aren’t telling me what’s happened here.”

Daithi lowered his head and gritted his teeth. “Magic drains the emotions of any who live here. We don’t know why, but since magic is so rare we have no need to purge whatever curse has befallen this place. I ask you leave, Madwen. Don’t go fixing something that’s not broke.”

Madwen digested his words for a moment. On the surface it seemed to make sense, but her experiments, her dreams, the shadows, Daithi’s resistance to magic, there was more; she knew it. What’s more, she simply did not trust Daithi.

“You’re lying,” said Madwen, plainly.

“You don’t get to make accusations after what you did!” Daithi stood from his chair, toppling it backwards. Madwen’s eyes widened. Daithi wasn’t plotting when he sat, he was healing!

Madwen flared her magic and her three remaining bracelets began to glow. Several of the citizens nearby who were conscious enough to think flinched and cowered. Daithi dropped low and swooped around Madwen, again moving in one fluid motion as he had with Worne. The well of magic exploded within Madwen, bursting in an instant like a roaring geyser as she unleashed her burden on the wounded man.

Daithi froze in place, his arms outstretched acting as a shield between Madwen and his people. The two locked eyes. Madwen would never willingly harm innocents, and even if she did, Daithi’s gesture would do nothing to stop her. Both he and her knew this, but the terrified citizens of Gildaun did not.

A man lying limp on the floor behind Daithi grimaced. He keeled over onto his front, then with great effort, pushed himself to his feet. Standing unsteady, he stepped forward and placed an arm on his lord’s shoulder. Somewhere in the room, another man repeated the same steps, then another man, then two women, then four men, then five people. Soon every man and woman in the great hall was climbing to their feet only to surround Madwen in support of the one man who had not once stopped fighting for them.

Glowing silver sputtered in Madwen’s eyes as she watched the sparkling rings floating just off the skin of her forearms. The bracelets that once burdened her wrists were now few, and the immense power required to stay Daithi’s body was quickly exhausting what little magic she had in reserve. Such strain wreaked havoc on Madwen, and the barriers in her mind were already weak. A single night of sleep helped her regain some sanity, but it had not been nearly enough.

Slowly Madwen lowered her arms, gently releasing her hold on Daithi. He nearly went limp, stumbling forward almost to the floor, though his people held him high. Was this performative or sincere? It was hard to tell with Daithi. That thought alone made Madwen even more uncomfortable.

“Ye got what ye wanted. Take your bloody prisoner… and please, just leave us be.” Daithi nearly whispered.

Every eye in the great hall was fixated solely on the omeness. A path appeared before her leading toward the entranceway and away from the weary lord. Madwen moved forward with caution as over a thousand expressionless faces watched her every move. She could not keep her mind from wondering if Daithi had turned these people against her, or if she had done so herself.

“Lady Madwen,” Daithi’s frail voice called from behind, though Madwen did not turn. “Ask Worne about our deal.”