I furrowed my brows.

Kill the King of Luskaine? Good luck.

"Isn’t he well protected?" I asked.

"He is, but he's also sick, and it's getting worse. The best healers in the country have tried everything, but nothing’s worked."

She lowered her voice.

"I think it's the man in black."

I jolted up in my seat, lurching back from the stabbing pain in my chest.

"What?!"

"What?"

I blinked at her.

"What's that about a man in black?!"

"Oh..."

She looked down, focusing on her healing.

“My mother… A man in black killed her.”

I stared at her with wide eyes.

A man in black. Could it be…

“Tell me what happened.”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Just… humour me.”

She blinked at me and then sighed.

"Fine… I was a little girl when it happened. It was nighttime, and a terrible wind woke me up. I went to look for my mother…”

She closed her eyes.

“I remember… walking down the hallways of the summer estate. Her door was cracked open.”

She shook her head.

Something about it was wrong. So wrong. I walked to the door and looked through the crack. And there he was—a hooded man dressed in all black with something covering his face.

"That something. Was it like stocking?"

"Yes, like black stocking. He was standing over my mother's bed... I ran away and hid under my covers. The next day, she was dead. No wounds. No signs of struggle. Her heart... it just stopped."

Her voice fell to a whisper, and as the volume of her voice dropped, so did her healing.

Conviction: a double-edged sword.

She opened her eyes. The determination was gone, and in its place, sadness found somewhere to roost. She wiped away the tears rolling down her cheek.

"My mother and father were childhood friends. He was a prince, and she was a commoner who lived in the neighbouring village. When they got older, she got a job as a maid at the estate, and he would visit every year just to see her. When he became betrothed to his current wife, they consummated their relationship… and had me."

Firstborn and a bastard?

That was dangerous. She could challenge the line of succession if the King raised her to nobility.

"Why would someone kill your mother?"

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

"To hurt my father by hurting us. To show him he can’t protect the people he loves… The day after she died, he smuggled me to the capital to keep me safe. My father has always cared for me… always looked after me... Now I want to take care of him."

She blinked away tears.

"I'm sorry. Heh, my healing isn't working."

"I’ll live."

I touched my chest and winced. My broken ribs were now bruised—not ideal, but an improvement. Between pained breaths, I thought over what Isla said.

Another sighting of the man in black. Another woman killed in her bed. It had to be him. My anger flared. I pushed it down before it simmered to the surface. Now wasn’t the time.

"How did you know?" Isla asked.

"Know what?"

"About the face mask? How did you know what it looked like?"

"A lucky guess."

Isla narrowed her eyes.

She knew I was lying, but I couldn’t tell her the truth. I was trained by the people who killed her mother… by the people who were killing the King.

Sin… Who are you?!

THUMP!

Isla jumped as something heavy slammed against the sealed opening.

THUMP!

"They're here!" I said.

I got to my feet, rubbing my chest. Isla snatched the red crystal off the table.

"Isla?!"

The voice was muffled but familiar.

"Castille?!"

Isla ran up to the door, creating a small opening in the stone. Castille's grey eyes looked through the hole, scanning the room.

"Are you alright?"

"Mostly."

Castille rapped her knuckles on the door.

"Then open this thing."

# # #

Isla opened the door wide enough for us to squeeze through and slip around into the alleyway. Dugan stood guard at the alley’s edge, watching around the corner. I leaned against the wall; the fire at the top of the building was still burning.

Have I been fueling it this whole time?

I reached out to the flames with that phantom third limb and smothered the fire. It petered out into dying embers.

Castille handed Isla her staff and nodded to me.

"Nice trick. We wouldn't have found you without that signal fire."

I frowned.

"I don't get it. Those stone men should have swarmed us like ants."

"We smashed up a few on our way here. Too few for the size of this town."

Castille sighed.

"We should leave."

"What?!"

I coughed, doubling over from the aching pain in my chest.

She put her hands on her hips.

"You're hurt. I say we fall back to the platform and buy time while Isla gets it working."

I glanced at Isla. She was focused on the red crystal in her hands.

"Are we leaving because of me? Are you kicking me out of the party?"

Castille gave me a sad smile.

"No, Jacob, you did well, but look around. This is bigger than us now. This isn’t a hunt for one man.”

She grimaced.

“This is a war.”

She was right. How many stone men were down here? Hundreds? Thousands? We would have to fight through an army to face Nostrand Del.

I shook my head.

"We can’t leave now. He'll be ready for us next time."

"Then we come back faster than he expects and with reinforcements."

"I'm done!" Isla shouted, holding up the fist-sized red crystal in her hand. “I can fix the platform.”

Castille smirked.

"That settles it. Let’s go."

"C-Castille," Dugan whispered.

"Dugan?"

"Mmmovement."

Castille walked up to Dugan, looking over the kneeling man.

"They're trying to encircle us. Jacob, do you remember the way to the platform?"

"Yeah."

"Then lead the way. Isla, follow him."

I pushed myself off the wall, stretching the sore muscles in my chest.

"OK. Let's do this."

# # #

I jogged through the streets with my short sword unsheathed.

Out of the corner of my eye, red crystals glinted—shambling limbs ducked out of view.

"They're herding us like sheep."

"Then we break through before they box us in. Cut right around the next corner. Dugan and I will take the lead."

I did as Castille commanded, cutting around the corner to see a handful of stone men armed with pickaxes and shovels blocking the way. Dugan charged past me, bashing into their line with his wooden shield. Castille followed a moment later, half-swording her long sword in two hands—pommel first. She hooked one stone man’s slender leg with her cross guard, tripping it to the ground.

"Aim for the eyes!" Isla said, running past me. I followed a few steps behind, wheezing out shallow breaths.

"Aye!" Castille said, stabbing the sword's tip into the stone man's eyes.

"Did you hear that, Dugan?"

"Of course."

He bashed the side of his shield into an advancing stone man's face.

We were moving together like one beast—an animal with the drive and will to survive. We would survive. Who could stop us?

The hair on the back of my neck raised.

I paused and turned to face the source of the eerie sensation.

Twenty stone men blocked the other side of the alley, and one stood head and shoulders above the rest.

The stone men parted as it walked forward. Its face was a mask of smooth, polished gold that went down to cover the top half of its chest. A golden halo flared behind its head like the rays of the sun. A sleeveless white robe draped over its body of black stone. In its right hand was a staff of two golden snakes intertwined to face each other with a fist-sized ruby floating between their open mouths.

In that moment, I had no doubt who was in front of me.

Nostrand Del.