Ted hesitated outside Stout Skins, the acrid stench of ammonia stinging his nostrils. The idea of being indebted to a rebel cell sat uneasily in his gut, but they had no choice. Gramok was right—they needed help, and they needed it tonight.

Cara's presence settled behind him, her usual grace replaced by a rigid stillness. Despite the tension radiating off her, the warmth of her presence eased the knot in Ted's stomach, if only slightly.

Squaring his shoulders, he stepped into the tannery courtyard. A suffocating blanket of stench clung to his nostrils, his skin, his clothes. The walls were lined with racks of drying hides, their edges curling and twisting like macabre decorations for a slaughterhouse.

From behind one of the many piles of hides and barrels emerged a short, stocky figure, a battleaxe slung over his back. Deep lines etched the dwarf's weathered face, yet he walked with a spry beat—this was no fat merchant.

His gaze swept over them, lingering on each in turn with unsettling intensity, before finally settling on Ted. "Well, what d'ya want?" His voice was gruff and low, edged with a violence that sent a shiver down Ted's spine.

Ted's heart hammered against his ribs. One shout would be all it took to bring the town guard running. “Poltak sent me, for the full-grain bracka leather.”

The dwarf's eyes narrowed, his gaze flicking to Cara and Gramok, in between lingering on Ted specifically. "I don't know you, stranger. State your business."

Ted forced his voice steady, swallowing the dryness in his throat. "I was sent by Poltak to acquire some full-grain bracka leather. I heard you were the one to see."

The dwarf grunted, his eyes narrowing further. "And who might you be?"

"My name…" Ted hesitated. His fingernails dug into his palms. If he was wrong, this would be painting the mother of all targets on his back. "Edwin. Edwin Williams."

The dwarf stiffened up. His jaw clenched, and his stare of death only intensified. "You're either desperate, stupid, or insane. Whichever it is, I don't want any part of it. Be gone!"

"Don't be so rude," came a woman's voice. A dark-skinned human woman emerged from a forest of barrels, clad in dirty overalls with a dagger at her belt. "Forgive him—he's a darling but can be a little rough. I'm Nammu, and this bitter old man is Milo, proud owner of Stout Skins."

Milo turned to Nammu and grunted out words in a language Ted couldn't understand.

Nammu glanced at Ted before responding in the same language. Even without understanding it, the tension in her voice was undeniable.

"Very well," Milo said, shaking his head. "I'll show ya our stock."

Milo led them back into the tannery's large wooden shed-like building, grunting and mumbling to himself as he walked.

With a knot growing in his gut, Ted followed. He couldn't blame them for being cautious, but he also couldn't shake the sense that this wasn't going to be a happy union of allies.

Dim candlelight flickered, barely illuminating the wide open space inside, full of piles of leather amid workbenches cluttered with tools. The real, tangible light was a welcome change from the magical lights that dominated the rest of the city.

Milo led them towards the far corner of the barn, to a pile of leather strewn across the floor. Nammu followed behind, her footsteps light and her eyes watchful.

As they reached the corner, Ted gagged. Standing over the pile of leather, it was more like a weapon than a mere smell.

"Don't you dare throw up," Milo growled. He leaned down and pushed aside the leather, revealing a trap door. He swung it open and gestured towards it.

Ted peered in. A set of rickety wooden stairs led down to a dimly lit basement, its walls lined with shelves of tools, hides, weapons, and armor.

Milo gestured again, more forcefully this time. Descending clearly wasn't optional.

The knot in Ted's gut twisted tighter. The basement would be the perfect place for an ambush. On the other hand, refusing would burn a bridge to the only hint of help in this entire accursed empire.

That didn't mean he had to go in blind.

Pulling on his mana, Ted cast a short-duration, low-potency Farsight spell, focusing on the basement below.

The weak image made it hard to pick out details in the dark, but there were people down there. People hiding, clutching a variety of weapons. Two humans, or maybe elves, and a minotaur.

"Who are your friends down there?" Ted asked, trying to sound as non-accusatory as possible.

Milo's hand darted to the handle of his axe, but then he froze. He glanced at Nammu, scowled, and muttered grimly in Dwarvish something about mages. Releasing his axe, he continued in Common. "The better question isn't who, but what. What are they going to do with the son of the Emperor?"

Ted's palms began to sweat. "We're not here to fight you."

"You're trouble. I've half a mind to hand you over ourselves. Stone knows that we could use the funds."

Refusing to be drawn down into the mud, Ted stared back as steadily as he could. "We're not looking for trouble. We just need a place to lay low for a while."

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Milo glared back, his hand still hovering near his axe. The tense silence stretched on for several long moments.

Adrenaline pounded through Ted's veins. Behind him, he could feel Cara and Gramok's tension, coil up, ready to leap into action at a moment's notice. "This is what the Emperor wants. He wants us to fight amongst ourselves, so we don't take the fight to him."

Time dragged past in suffocating silence. Finally, Milo let out a harsh bark of laughter and shook his head. "You've got guts, boy, I'll give you that. But guts won't be enough to keep you alive if you keep throwing around names like that."

Ted allowed himself a small sigh of relief. "All we need is safe passage to the Hub."

Milo frowned but nodded grudgingly. "That's a big ask but… Aye, we can do that."

Weight lifted off Ted's shoulders. "Thank you."

"Not for free, mind ye. We've got a job for ya."

And there it was again. That crushing weight of reality. "What kind of a job?"

"A robbery. And a murder."

A chill ran down Ted's spine. "We're not murderers."

"Oh, ye aren't? The boy who took a weapon to his own father never killed a bastard for being a no-good psychopathic slaver?"

Ted gritted his teeth. It wouldn't be their first kill, and it wouldn't be their last. "Who's the target?"

For the first time, Milo's face lit up. "The fuckin' Magistrate himself."

Gramok scoffed. "You expect us to waltz up to the city's ruler and gut him?"

"Somethin' like that." Milo smiled, like he was talking about going for an ice cream rather than taking a life. "We got a plan, but we need a… mage… to make it work."

A nauseous sense of dread washed over Ted. Not because the idea of killing this Magistrate sickened him, but precisely because it didn't. "We do this, and you'll get us safely to the Hub?"

Milo scrutinized Ted for what felt like an eternity before nodding. "Yeah. I know a guy, he can get you close, even with this heat."

"You trust him?"

"He's solid."

It sounded too good to be true. "Why do you want the Magistrate dead so badly, anyway? You kill him, they're going to come down on you like a ton of bricks, and some other bastard will take over."

A smirk spread across Milo's lips. "That's the fun part. He's in charge because of his army of slaves, too many to control with ordinary collars. No, his slave collars can be remote-controlled via a necklace he wears everywhere. He can see through their eyes, hear their thoughts, speak through their mouths."

An icy chill sweeps over Ted. No man was meant to have that kind of power over another. "Take the necklace, free the slaves."

Milo nods. "Right. And 'cause our friend the Magistrate doesn't trust nobody, over half the guards in the city are his slaves."

"Full blown revolution."

"Yeah. Perfect cover for getting the Empire's most wanted out, if that sweetens the pot for ye."

Ted glanced at Cara and Gramok, both nodding in turn. "Fine. We'll do it."

Milo grinned, his eyes lighting up. "Good call. We steal the key in a few hours. Get some rest." He jerked his head towards the trapdoor before turning on his heel and stomping off.

Nammu gestured towards the open trapdoor, her lips curving in a wry smile. "After you."

Ted hesitated before reluctantly descending into the dimly lit basement. Cara and Gramok followed close behind, and the trapdoor slammed shut above them.

The three rebels kept their distance, refusing to be drawn into conversation. Probably for the best—this one job, and then they'd be on their way.

Ted sat against the wall—which was even colder than he'd feared—and pulled out the Zelnari crystal. Having tasted the power of Dark magic, so much more of the writing within it made sense now. That was its main subject, he saw that now—a collection of knowledge on the most powerful type of magic.

There had to be something in here about mind control, and he would find it. The more he understood it, the better they could fight it.

Cara settled down beside him, leaning her head on his shoulder like that wasn't massively distracting. "Can we talk?"

His neck stiffened up. Why did she have to bother him now? Couldn't she see he was working? "About what?"

"You," she said, resting her hand upon his knee. "The reason you've been avoiding me?"

Heat flushed through Ted. He wanted to do it again, to toss aside any worries that her mind wasn't her own and just enjoy the moment. "We need to get to the Hub. We can fix it there."

Her breath tingled against his cheek. "Now you want to wait?"

"It was a mistake." Ted swallowed hard, trying to find words to explain that wouldn't get swallowed by the blasted System. "I just… need to know it's real."

"It is," she said, nestling closer. "Do you remember how we met?"

Ted chuckled. "Hard to forget having a bow pointed at your face by a species I didn't even know existed."

"Do you remember what happened after that?"

Weight pulled down on Ted's chest. She'd believed him when no one else had. "You saved my life."

"I had faith in you."

Pain stabbed at his heart. That was exactly the problem, wasn't it? She was too understanding, too trusting, too empathetic. "I can't. Not yet."

She went quiet for a while. "What if I don't have a later? What if this is it?"

Ted's blood ran cold. "You will. I'll keep you safe."

"The Forest offers life, and the Forest demands life." She withdrew her hand, leaving his knee feeling cold.

The damp air thickened, weighing him down. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing's promised in life. The Forest will take its due, sooner or later."

Unease gnawed at Ted's stomach. This wasn't like Cara. "And you think…?"

She looked at him, her eyes soft and downtrodden, and shrugged.

Ted's fingers itched to reach out, to comfort her, to show her how deeply he cared, but he held back. What if that was part of the illusion?

What if the System was affecting him as well?

What if it wasn't?

He reached out. He took her hand in his and squeezed. "We're going to get through this together."

She smiled and nestled her head against his neck. "Together."

Ted closed his eyes, letting himself feel the moment. "Thank you for coming with me."

Her hand squeezed his tight. "Thank you for having me."

He leaned his head on hers and languished in her warmth. When it was clear she wasn't going anywhere, he turned his focus back to the Zelnari crystal, searching through it for instances of the Affect effect.

And there it was. Mind Control could be achieved through the proper combination of the Affect, Illusion, and Dark aspects, powered by a soul. It was forbidden magic amongst the Zelnari, for it forced the victim to obey the will of the master. The spell could only be cast via Touch, and only directly, not via any conjoined forms.

Ted read on, expecting to find a blueprint on how to create such a spell, or even instructions, but they were conspicuously absent. If he wanted to learn how to wield such a power, he would need one of these remote control collars and, ideally, the controlling necklace as well.

His brow furrowed. The power to force others to his will was a tempting prospect, given the current situation. He could achieve a lot of good with such a spell.

Even so, the mere thought of using magic in that way left a bitter taste in his mouth. No matter how noble the goal, it didn't feel right to rob someone of their free will. Especially when it consumed a soul to power it.

His mind flashed back to the look of horror Cara had given him when he'd tortured that slaving thug to death. How good it had felt to rip the soul of that man—Max—from his being.

No. This was wrong, no matter how useful it might be. Once he went down that line, he might never be able to stop.

He wasn't like that.

He wasn't his father.

Ted put aside the Zelnari crystal and held Cara tight. Warmth washed over him, and the heaviness in his heart lifted.

Cara looked up at him, her face almost selling the lie that she truly cared about him. "Is everything alright?"

Ted smiled softly and squeezed her hand. "It will be.