The next morning, I sat in the antechamber outside the chamberlain’s office and watched the royal guards stagger around me. After the victory, King Quistald had opened his wine cellar to all, proclaiming a celebration throughout Encelas. Now the entire city was filled with drunken laughter, and all anyone could talk about was the battle.

“Did you see the prince’s face?” One guard asked. "Like a little boy who'd lost his toys!"

“Did you hear the High General’s curse?" Another guard asked. "By Eothis' beard, I felt the ground shake beneath me!"

Segrel, the chamberlain's high steward, looked as severe as ever, but even he couldn't quite stand upright. Blinking with discomfort, he opened the office doors and beckoned me enter. “The High Ch-chamberlain will see you now.”

I nodded and entered. Lord Harad sat behind his desk, massaging his temples. He appeared to be in pain, yet he was smiling broadly.

“Dylan, it’s good to see you! I apologize for my state, but I may have been too, ah, liberal during last night’s revelry.”

I hadn't joined in any of the celebration. For my plan to succeed, I'd need full control of my wits.

“I understand,” I said.

“I called on you for two reasons. Now that we've taken care of the kingdom's threats, I’ve decided to disband the Surgeons. You’re welcome to keep the weapons and armor, but I’m afraid you can no longer stay at the mansion. Of course, I'll rely on your discretion to keep the existence of the Surgeons a secret.”

I nodded. “I won’t tell a soul, Lord Chamberlain.”

The chamberlain’s smile widened. “Now then, I told the king about your services to the crown, and we agree that you deserve a reward. An exceptional reward. At my prodding, the king has agreed to make you a duke of the realm. With this title, you’ll receive a manor house, and a plantation with a small army of servants. You’ll also be mayor for life of Raven’s Rest, charged with returning the village to its original glory. What do you think?”

I looked into the chamberlain’s bloodshot eyes and struggled to think of a response. I was honored, of course, but I couldn’t possibly serve as a duke. I had to beat this damned game.

“That’s, ah, very kind, Lord Chamberlain.”

Lord Harad blinked. “I’ll confess that I was expecting a more voluble response than just That’s very kind. You don’t seem happy at all! Is there something wrong?”

“I have a mission, Lord Chamberlain. I need to steal an artifact from the High Temple of Dhok’kor.”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

The chamberlain studied my face, blinked, and then shook his head slowly. “You’re... serious, aren't you? Does this have anything to do with Prince Galliel calling you an interloper?”

“It does. If you could assist me, Lord Chamberlain, I’d be grateful.”

“Assist you in committing suicide? Have you lost your mind?”

“I thought you might have spies in Norburne who could provide information. Or maybe you'd know someone who could guide me.”

“I don’t deal with necromancers for any reason, for worship of Dhok’kor is an offense punished by death. The only assistance I can offer is advice: forget your silly mission and become a duke. You’ll be happy!”

I sat forward. “There is a way you can help me. There’s a necromancer imprisoned in the Enclave who knows how to get to Dhok’kor's temple. If you can’t provide information or a guide, I’d like to have the necromancer released into my custody.”

The chamberlain laughed. “When you told me about Akasur and the rakshasas, I sent Segrel to find out how exactly the Enclave knew so much about demons. The wizards resisted at first, but Segrel eventually learned about your… necromancer. Queen Delvorra, is that right?”

I nodded.

“And she’s very beautiful?”

I nodded again.

The chamberlain closed his eyes for a moment. When he looked at me, his drunkenness was replaced with sober grief.

“If I twist the arms of the Enclave mages, I can grant you regular visits to this necromancer, but I cannot allow her to be released. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever. Despite your extraordinary services to the kingdom, I must refuse.”

That was that. It was the outcome I’d expected.

“I understand," I said. "Then I’ll proceed to the High Temple of Dhok’kor alone.”

“You refuse the title of duke? The lands? The wealth?”

“I’m afraid I must.”

Harad threw up his hands and looked at me as though I was a hopeless drug addict. His voice fell to a whisper. “Then I’m afraid we must part company. I wish you good fortune, Dylan. You're dismissed.”

⚔

Minutes later, I stood under a tree next to the Enclave and watched giggling wizards stagger in and out of the double doors. I clasped the Jewel of Divine Counsel that I’d received from Phioren, and considered the terrible question I had to ask.

“Hear me, Motiacca. The Lord of Death has the Key of Darnok, and he’ll obtain unspeakable power if he enters the Temple of Darnok. I can stop him, but I don’t know anything about Norburne or the High Temple of Dhok’kor. I need a guide.”

I took a deep breath. I felt ridiculous pouring out my heart to a jewel, but I continued, “Delvorra, former queen of Norburne, is a necromancer who can guide me to the high temple. She's been imprisoned by the Enclave, and if I free her, I’ll become an enemy of Encelas. I'll have to fight innocent people.”

I pressed my eyes shut. “So I ask you, Lady. Should I liberate Queen Delvorra, incurring the wrath of Encelas and all its soldiers and mages?”

I opened my eyes and held the purple jewel in front of me. After breathless moments of waiting, the jewel glowed a cheery, bright violet. The goddess’s judgment was clear.

“Thank you, Lady,” I whispered.

I put the jewel away, squared my shoulders, and headed toward the entrance to the Enclave. The chamberlain had been mistaken—Encelas had one last threat, and his name was Dylan.

Hell was about to break loose.