The sound of creaking wood reverberated through the timeworn walls of the small house as the intruder descended from the sleeping loft above. Each groan of the floorboards echoed like a foreboding warning, sending a shiver racing up Amriel's spine. Outside, jagged flashes of lightning sliced through the stormy sky, momentarily illuminating the darkened landscape in a surreal daylight. For a heartbeat, the stark brightness revealed the cloaked figure, their hood pulled low to conceal their face, a silhouette shrouded in mystery.

As the figure drew closer, Amriel noted that they were no larger than herself, yet their presence loomed ominously, filling the cramped room with an oppressive weight. Her heart quickened, pounding against her ribs like a frantic bird desperate to escape its cage. Automatically, her fingers tightened around the hilt of her small dagger, the worn leather and cool steel providing a flicker of comfort amidst the rising tension.

The stranger continued their agonizingly slow descent. Then, a sudden clarity cut through the fog of fear clouding her mind.

Wait, she realized, her pulse steadying. This isn't the source of the magic I feel in here. Whoever this is, they are human—nothing more.

Without giving it much more thought, Amriel surged forward, slamming her body into the intruder as they reached the last step. The force sent them crashing into the wooden wall behind. The sound echoed like thunder in the confined space, reverberating through the room. Somewhere behind her, Maeve gasped.

As they collided, she heard the rush of air burst from his lungs in a low wheeze. The intruder's hood flew back and his eyes went wild with shock and confusion at first before quickly changing to fear. She was so close now that she could feel the heat radiating from the stranger's body, and the stench on his breath, assaulting her senses and sending a wave of revulsion through her.

Knowing fully well she could not afford hesitation, Amriel quickly pressed her blade against his throat. The intruder squeezed like a mouse at the feel of the wickedly sharp blade as it grazed over his now racing pulse.

“Who are you?” Amriel demanded, her taunt voice cutting through the silence that hung between them like a taut wire. "Where are they?" She pressed the blade against his throat a little more firmly to emphasise her intent.

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Behind her, Amriel fully expected Maeve to call her off, but instead the northerner chimed in, "Answer her! Now! Where are my daughters? Where is Simon? Tell us now before she slits you open and I pull your insides to your outsides!"

The stranger hesitated a moment longer. The blade wobbled slightly as the man swallowed hard before speaking. "Remove the blade, and let me go and I will tell you where they are." His voices quivered ever so slightly beneath the otherwise calm, commanding tone.

"Like the hell's she is going to lower that blade first!" Maeve practically snarled. She almost reminded Amriel of an angry bear as she approached the man. "And you best be truthful about it. She can sniff out a lie like a hound to a fox!"

This was a side of Maeve that Amriel had never witnessed before. Not only did Amriel approve, she even admired it. She could only hope she was as good at detecting a lie as Maeve had made her out to be.

Well, I started this, Amriel thought, a flicker of resolve igniting within her. Now it’s time to fake it until I make it.

Leaning her head forward, Amriel hissed into his ear, "Tell us now, or I'll make true on her threats." This time, she gently drew her blade across his flesh. He yelped a little this time as the sharp edge nipped into his skin. A trickle of blood turned black in the darkness trickled down his neck.

"Fine, if you insist. But, regardless, you will have to come with me." His eyes locked into Amriel's, "They will only release them upon exchange for you. Killing me will only ensure their deaths. Those are the orders I left. I die, they die."

Amriel's heart started racing once more. Lowering the blade from his neck, her fingers trembled slightly as she stepped back until she stood at Maeve's side. She could feel the northerner's eyes boring into her.

"As to your first question, I am Crieg Percy," the man, regaining his composure, said as he peeled himself from the wall. With an exaggerated flourish, he brushed at his clothes, dislodging imagined dirt and debris, as though Amriel were nothing more than filth clinging to his pristine image. His disdain was palpable, a repugnant aura that filled the space between them, suffocating in its arrogance. "And I serve the Dreadfort."

"The Dreadfort," Amriel breathed, "Please, that is not where you are keeping them, is it?"

"Well? What will it be then," he asked, his eyes flickering between Amriel and Maeve, "You or them?"

"Amriel," Maeve started, but her voice shuttered and fell off.

I have no choice here, Amriel thought. This is my fault. I should have just forgotten about him, and we would all still be ok. It was Amriel's turn to swallow hard. "I'll go. But only if I get to witness them being released to Maeve."

"Of course. Of course," the man nodded and gave a smile that, in the briefest flashes of lightning outside, reminded Amriel of a wolf. "Now, we really have no more time to waste. The cells of the Dreadfort really are no place for children."

This time, Amriel had to hold Maeve back.