Lira led us through the estate’s winding corridors with an escort of guards on our heels. My attention was split between Dugan trailing a few steps behind me and her swaying braid in front.

The woman’s footsteps made no sound, and the more I tried to understand it, the less it made any sense. Were her boots enchanted?

I checked over my shoulder for the sixth time since our walk began. Dugan was walking by himself now, but he still had that haunted look in his eye from whatever happened in the hall. Hopefully, a night of rest would help him recover.

A chill ran up my spine thinking back to that sculpture. I would need to talk to Isla about that or maybe Shay if I got the chance.

The last bit of tension in my shoulders melted away as we reached the entrance of the estate. The wide doors were left open as guards and servants flitted in and out of the building.

Lira called two servants over, sending them with lanterns into the moonless darkness to get our horses from the stables. The way the servants and other guards deferred to her told me a lot about her position in the cartel. A lot, but not enough.

"How long have you worked for the Lagos brothers?" I asked.

She turned from the front entrance, giving me a sidelong glance.

"Since they smuggled themselves under the border."

“Under? Not over?”

“The best smugglers tunnel underground, and the Lagos brothers are the best.”

"That must help with the mining.”

“It does. Finnick is a master of Earth Landbound Magic.”

I rubbed my sore chest.

“I noticed."

A throaty chuckle escaped her lips.

So I could crack her shell.

"He overacted. Finnick is usually less… erratic. The brothers exist in a balance. Van is fire. Finnick is Earth. Van is reckless. Finnick is cautious."

"I see."

She turned back to the darkness. I left Dugan leaning on the wall to walk a wide circle behind Lira until I was beside her. I took in the view of the night sky.

"Are you alright?"

She stared at me with eyes as hard as flint.

"Someone tried to kill Van Lagos tonight. That person is going to die. By the rules of the Compact—a life for a life.”

She folded her arms before looking ahead.

“I won’t rest until it happens.”

A fanatical sense of loyalty. She would be a deadly mage with all that conviction.

"Who do you think did it?"

Her face twisted into a frown.

"That’s for me to figure out.”

I nodded.

Fine, be that way.

“It’s all yours.”

I stopped to consider the possible suspects: Who would benefit from Van Lagos' death? Steeltown had three other big players: the Sanctifiers, Lady Kateen, and Tiny Tom.

I could rule out the Sanctifiers. The attack on Van Lagos was a direct attack on their authority.

As much as I wanted to blame Lady Kateen, she had a symbiotic relationship with the mining cartels. But why hadn't she filled her cup with wine?

There was also Tiny Tom. He didn't look like the type to kill someone with poisoned wine, but maybe that was the point. His persona could be a misdirection to make others underestimate him.

Wait a minute. I was working on the Inquisitor’s case!

I frowned.

As much as I hated to admit it, Reed understood me. Leave a puzzle half-finished, and my mind would work to solve it.

What about Isla? Did I want to solve her mystery? No, I spent most of my time trying not to think about her, and my system was working… mostly.

"Your horses are here," Lira said. “Where are you staying?”

# # #

With the Lagos guards as escorts, we rode back to the Pit without any issues. The events in the inn were winding down, with drunken johns shuffled out the doors by the extra muscle Cassandra hired for nights.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

As I walked to the second-floor staircase, Cassandra waved at us from a table in the dining area. We walked to her, dodging chairs and fresh vomit that would be cleaned up later that night.

She smoked from a thin, wooden pipe, dividing out shares of gold pieces.

"Is something wrong?"

"I don't think so. A runner from the Sanctifiers Guild wanted to give you a message from Isla."

"Oh, OK."

"She says she found some good reading. She and Castille are staying overnight at the Guildhall."

Her gaze lingered on us, looking for a reaction. I kept my face neutral as I nodded.

"OK, thanks for telling us."

I waited until we were on the second floor to give Dugan a worried look.

He glanced back at me with a reassuring stare that said everything would be fine.

I hoped so.

I didn't like half our party being under Sanctifier supervision, not with Reed digging into Isla's past. Why was I worried? She could take care of herself. Besides, Castille was with her.

For once, I should look on the bright side. It sounded like Isla had found a lead to break the curse. The sooner that happened, the better. Our cover was close to being blown, if not by Kateen, then by any number of people at tonight’s party. Even Cassandra was getting suspicious.

I changed out of my clothes and hung up my new jacket on a wooden hanger. As I lay in bed, I realized something.

I just talked to Dugan without speaking.

# # #

The next morning, I met an exhausted Isla in the master suite with Castille and Dugan sitting propped up in the bed. Thor was laid out snoring on the floor.

Castille had been lax in her guard duty, sleeping through the night at the Guildhall as Isla was busy at work. She beamed as she laid out her neat pile of notes on the bed’s silken sheets.

"They don't let you take documents out of the Guildhall, so I had to copy them by hand."

The dark circles under her eyes offset her wide smile.

"You must have had a busy night."

She turned her nose up.

"It was very productive."

I smirked.

"So, half as productive as me and Dugan."

She laughed.

"I doubt it.”

I spent the next twenty minutes explaining what happened last night, excluding Reed's request to investigate Isla.

Her jaw dropped.

"You had a private audience with the Lagos brothers!"

"I'm more upset Dugan has been outed," Castille said, running a consoling hand through the man’s hair.

"Did we screw up?"

"No! No. This is good," Isla said, pacing around the room. "That's our way into Brimspoke mountains."

"Isla, quit your pacing and tell them what we learned," Castille said.

Isla walked up to the bed and picked up the first page from the pile.

"It's just a guess, but I think I know who's behind the curse. His name is Nostrand Del."

"Del. Like the Dellends?"

"Yes, he was one of the last kings of the region."

"Before Peter Luskaine wiped out the entire royal line," Castille said.

Isla crossed her arms.

"They were doing a fine enough job without his help."

She turned to me.

"Nostrand Del was killed by his seven half-elven sons, who then fought a civil war amongst themselves for the throne. Their kingdom was so weakened by the succession war that Peter Luskaine was able to take their city with almost no losses."

"And how does one get seven half-elven sons?" Castille asked.

It was a rhetorical question, one that made Isla squirm. She looked at me, and I nodded for her to go ahead. I could already guess the answer.

"He had an interest in elvish slaves. Traders from across the continent would visit Del to sell him their stock.”

Her face tinged a sickly shade of green.

“It wasn't all about… sex. They also helped him with what he was most known for."

"What was that?"

"Enchantment. The historical accounts call Nostrand Del a genius enchanter and a master of spoken High Song."

My mind flashed to the floating orb from the Lagos brothers’ party.

"What kind of enchanted objects did he create?"

"We don't know. Not many of his notes survived the succession war and Peter Luskaine’s conquest."

"I bet there’s a whole stack of those notes squirrelled away somewhere in the Sanctifier Guildhall.”

"Do you think they would go that far?"

"I do, but we don't need to hunt that game. Not yet. We already have a lead."

I turned to Dugan. Some rest had helped his condition, but his eyes were still vacant and unfocused.

"The orb..." Isla whispered.

I nodded.

"Van Lagos told me it was pulled out of the Brimspoke mountains by the old cartel leaders. If something like that is down there-"

"What or who else is waiting to be found?"

Isla’s tired eyes sparkled with rekindled enthusiasm.

"It's a good thing you’re friends with Van Lagos now," Castille said.

“Well, I wouldn’t say friends…"

She clapped her hands together.

"OK! Let's review. What are the facts?”

Isla paced the room, stopping at the sleeping Thor before walking back to me.

“Nostrand Del was a genius enchanter who was killed by his sons. Since then, nobles have been unable to bond to the land, and the land has been cursed. The curse originates from Brimspoke Mountains, where enchanted objects have been recently found.”

I chimed in.

“If Nostrand Del survived, that would explain why the nobles can’t bond to the land-”

“And an enchanted artifact could be keeping him alive and powering the curse.”

Isla cupped her chin.

“But what's the purpose of the curse?"

"Revenge against his sons?"

"Then why would the curse have benefits? No, it must be more than that. Nostrand Del is planning something."

A plan that spanned over a hundred years. The idea made me shiver. Mother Geslin was right. Something terrible was going to happen here.

Isla sighed.

"We shouldn't have let this fester for so long."

I shrugged.

"It's not like it's your responsibility.”

Castille sat up, scooting to the edge of the bed to put on her boots.

"Either way, the path is clear. We will investigate Brimspoke Mountains and learn the truth about Nostrand Del and this curse.”

She grinned at me.

“We just need a convincing reason for Van Lagos to let us investigate the mines."

“I’ll think of something.”

Off to the side of the bed, Thor shook himself awake and stared at the door. A moment later…

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

"Hello! It's Denise."

Castille nodded. I walked to the door, cracking it open to see the young woman we first met at the Pit. She was sweating. Her wide eyes darted around before fixing on my face.

"What's wrong?"

"There's a crowd outside! Cassandra is trying to hold them back, but the security from last night already left."

Her wild, dark-circled eyes tried to look past me.

"Is what they say true?! Is Dugan a mage?!"

Castille jumped off the bed, grabbing the sword belt slung over her headboard.

With practiced efficiency, she tied it around her waist and walked up to the door.

She turned back to look at Dugan, Isla and Thor.

"You three stay here. Jacob, you're with me."

I nodded, resting my right hand on the cane on my hip. After last night, I felt naked without it.

As we hurried down the stairs, I realized I left my new jacket in my room. That made me feel naked in a different way. I was going into battle without armour, dressed like Castille in a white shirt and black pants.

At the entrance of the Pit, Cassandra stood tall at the doors with both hands held high.

"Cassandra!"

Cassandra turned to look at Castille. A large gash was above her left eyebrow, dripping blood into her eye.

That was the last straw.

We rushed forward, longsword and short sword drawn. Ready to cut down whoever was outside the doors.

And what we saw terrified us.