Zofie took the news just as well as Dimas thought she was going to. Which is to say, if she hadn’t lost her magic, a sudden burst of it would’ve blown out all the candles in the castle.

“You’re doing what?” It was, perhaps, only by Thero’s reminding hand on her shoulder that kept her from getting louder. “Why do you think that’s a good idea?”

“I don’t,” Dimas defended, knowing full well it did nothing to help her. “But it’s our only option.”

“So you volunteered yourself for a suicide mission?”

“It’s not like we have anyone else that’s capable of going.”

“I’m sure there is! That goblin, the Red Rose—better yet, the Stone!”

“They’ve all helped so much already and they still have a lot to do. It’s not right to keep piling stuff on top of them.”

“You can’t make someone else do it? What if I gathered some soldiers and sent them to do it instead?”

He shook his head. “This isn’t a problem of having enough people to fight. This is about having someone capable of making sure everyone involved comes back home alive. We’re going up against the Skiá. If we don’t have someone like me, then the whole thing will fail.”

Finally she realized that, no matter how many questions she was going to ask, it wasn’t going to make him change his mind. Or, at least, any questions relating to himself. “Are you sure that the risks will be worth it?” She’d gotten quieter, her eyes now focused on the cup in front of her.

“If this doesn’t help, then nothing can,” he sighed. “He may have found a Fos, but we can’t trust them to take care of the Skiá completely. And while the Skiá doesn’t seem to want to hurt anyone—or at least, they haven’t hurt anyone yet—it doesn’t change what they are. Whether they mean to or not, it’s only a matter of time until something bad happens and we can’t let it get to that point.”

“What’s going to happen to him when you get it? You’re going to be locking away a part of him inside it. I can’t imagine that’s not going to have its consequences.”

That was where Dimas faltered. “We don’t know. We’re hoping it’s nothing significant—even if we get the whole thing, we only need a piece of it for him. The rest of it can be put somewhere safe but far away from him. With any luck, all it’s going to be is a quick adjustment period and then it’s back to how it’s supposed to be.”

“And if it isn’t?”

“Then we just have to pray we don’t lose our one clue of solving this whole mess.”

…

Before he left that night, he checked on Natheniel. The boy was unsurprisingly still awake and asked several questions about what was going on. In each of them, he proved just how ignorant he was—it seemed he only understood that the twins had been arguing, but not who had been their topic of discussion. Dimas gave the quickest of explanations that really didn’t answer anything. Then, he told Natheniel that he would be riding alone back to Lelishara, instructed him to be good, and left the castle.

The Nightmare’s Heart, according to their sources, was somewhere on the northern side of the Lake. It was as soon as they were sure of the fact that the small team agreed to meet at the border. Only three of the people at the camp—the three he’d be spending the next few months with—paid attention to his arrival.

“I’m assuming this is all of us?” he prompted when he got closer to them. Kiah had told him she only called on a few to help; the hope being that, if they didn’t seem feast worthy, the Skiá might not bother at all. He’d honestly still expected something closer to their group when they were adventuring, though, instead of this.

Hadar, the only familiar face, nodded. He gestured to the other two and said, “These are Lyron Zachary and Lieke Sterre. Both of them are mercenaries here for the coin Commander Kiah offered. I already briefed them on the mission and they’re both fully aware of the consequences.” He glanced at them and motioned to Dimas. “This is King Dimas, though I don’t think I need to tell you.”

“You certainly do not,” Lieke remarked with a click of her tongue. “Hey, do we get paid more if we make sure you don’t get hurt? You look a little squishy.”

“I’m tougher than you probably think I am,” Dimas replied. “Besides, I’m our support. If we run into Skiá, I’m the one thing that’s going to keep you from bleeding out.”

“You’re using magic, aren’t you?” Lyron questioned. “The count says it gets exhausting after a while. Don’t wear yourself out too much taking care of us.”

Dimas nodded, then paused. “Have I seen you before?”

“If you’ve ever been to one of Count Quennell’s parties, I was probably there. I come for the free food and drinks. I remember talking to King Imre during one of them, back when he was still the prince.” Lyron shrugged.

“We’ve already decided that, as the most fitting candidate for the job, you’re going to be in charge,” Hadar announced, looking at Dimas. “We’re ready for orders.”

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Faced with the knowledge that these lives were now in his hands, Dimas couldn’t stop a bit of nervous laughter from escaping. “Well, first things first: everyone, stay alive. The mission’s not a success unless we’re all still there to see it through.”

It was a bit later that Hadar pulled him aside and handed him a glowing charm. “Before coming here, I stopped by the fort. Lady Lydia was there and instructed me to give this to you. She said it may be able to help if we run into Skiá.”

Dimas nodded his thanks and put it with the rest of his things.

…

He learned several things about his companions that both eased his concerns and made him much more anxious. He’d already known Hadar had Iris and Mae, though it seemed to have been a decision all had agreed on; they knew that it was a job someone had to do and, the more capable the group was, the safer it was for everyone. Hadar insisted Samone had no influence on their conclusion, though there was something about it that left Dimas doubtful.

Lyron proudly proclaimed himself to be an alcoholic mercenary with no such thing as “personal connections.” When pressed about the matter further, he admitted to having a son, though they’d long since parted ways. His wife, if she was even that, had likely divorced him. He spoke of her with the kind of disdain that Nigel would speak of Odelle. The only difference seemed to be that Lyron had the ability to leave, whereas Nigel was bound to stay and soon found other targets of his annoyance.

Lieke was the youngest of all of them. The few mentions she made of her parents were ambiguous—impossible to tell if they’d been on good terms or bad. She was from Xannon territory, one member of a much larger band of mercenaries. From what little Dimas was able to gather from their conversations, her previous companions had the same idea Zofie did: that, no matter what they might gain, it was still a suicide mission at its roots.

They all knew Dimas and the things he was risking by being here, without him ever needing to say a word. In Lelishara he left his husband, sons, and closest friends. Hyasari held his twin sister and niece. Though he cursed himself at the thought, he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d see them again. If he’d be a distant or forgotten memory to Natheniel and Tavin. If Philyra would be aware of his existence at all, just like Zofie planned to keep her unaware of Allen. What Imre would do if he didn’t come back…

Dimas wasn’t brave—no, he was terrified. Yet he didn’t let fear keep him from inaction. He had family and friends to go back to; faces he wanted to be able to see again for many more years to come. It was the thought of seeing them again, able to relax and be happy, that gave him the courage he needed.

“It’s going to rain,” Lyron mumbled. Through their trip around the Lake, it became clear that he wasn’t used to following. Every now and again he would let his horse trot ahead of Hadar, the actual lead, only to receive a bitter glare and return to his earlier position. “I can feel it.”

Lieke scrunched her nose. “Is that another one of those old man things?”

“You’ll be thanking me in an hour or so when we’re somewhere dry instead of in the middle of a rainstorm.”

At least Dimas could give a bit of credit to the group—they didn’t argue nearly as much as the five of them had. A mix of everyone being willing participants may have been to thank for it.

Hadar glanced over his shoulder to Dimas. “Do you think we should stop at the town over there? It won’t disrupt our travel plans too much.”

Hardly broken out of his thoughts, Dimas nodded absently. “Yeah, that should be fine…”

…

Dimas regretted letting Lieke and Lyron have a couple of coins and drag the other two out to town. He’d figured it was for something practical, like buying supplies or better equipment. It was that innocent thinking that got him in the bar, slouched in the corner, surrounded by much more boisterous companions and praying no one recognized him.

Lyron apparently didn’t hold his liquor very well. He had one arm around Dimas and the other hand waving around a beer glass. “I says—I said—to him, ‘Man, get outta here. Mess with ‘em and you mess with me.’ And he went right outta there! Didn’t even pack—pack his bags. Nuh-uh. Didn’t even have bags to pack…”

Lieke, on the other hand, had used a bit of her personal funds and bought twice as many drinks as Lyron. She reminded Dimas of Kiah, with how much she could drink without appearing drunk, despite how young she was. “Hey, King! You look miserable.”

“Well, yeah,” Dimas mumbled. “I’ve been forced to come here.”

She laughed. “Come on, don’t say it like that! You’ll feel better once you’ve had a drink, I promise.”

“I don’t drink.”

She nudged a half-finished glass in his direction. “I dunno, it’s really good. You’d be missing out if you don’t try some…”

“I’m content with missing out, then.” The memories of broken bottles, of drunken rages, the way it warped a person’s thinking and hurt those around them… Just the thought of it made him sick—he couldn’t imagine ever drinking any of it.

Hadar, meanwhile, was having a hushed discussion with one of the waitresses. Whatever he ordered, the glare that accompanied it made the waitress nod fervently and quickly walk away. She looked like he threatened to kill her, even if that couldn’t have been the case.

It was always a surprise to see how different some people acted when the ones they cared about weren’t there.

Lieke frowned, all her attention still on Dimas. “You’re ruining the fun. Can’t you at least smile a bit?” When he showed no signs of changing, she thought of something on her own. “Hey, you like talking about this mission, right? Isn’t this supposed to be a quick retrieval?”

“Well, if it moves before we’re able to find it, then we’re basically screwed.”

“Then why don’t we ride a boat across the Lake instead of riding around it? It’ll save us a lot of time. There’s a couple of ports nearby, too. Mention either the money in your pocket or your connections and, boom, we’ve got a quick ride to where we need to be.”

“The Lantern Festival just started. No one’s stupid enough to try to get a boat past all those lanterns.”

“Why not just… shove the lanterns out of the way?”

“Those are honoring the dead and lost.”

“Alright, then,” she mumbled with an eye roll. “There’s only one other thing we can do to cut the amount of time traveling: your letters. I swear you get a new one every hour.”

“That’s what happens when you have a worried husband and a paranoid sister.”

“Do you think you could ask them to cut it down? It’ll save us a lot of time if we didn’t have to stop so often for you to respond to them.”

“I… suppose I can try.” Dimas was sure that Imre would understand; it was getting Zofie to know that her frequent check-ins really weren’t that helpful.

Hadar changed the subject when he passed them each a glass of water. “After this, we need to head back to the inn and get a good night’s rest. We should be up and going by the time the sun rises.”

“I thoughts—thought they only sold beer here…” Lyron slurred, downing the water without a second thought.

“You better hope you’ve sobered up by the time we leave,” Hadar remarked. “I’m not dealing with whining about hangovers while we travel.”