Martin sprinted down the steps of the dungeon, sick to his stomach. He should ask Inessa to confirm the story, but somehow, he knew this was where he would get the information he needed. If Indenuel’s mark was clearing, then Nathaniel must have been mistaken. If it was even a shade darker…

He threw open the door to Indenuel’s cell. Tolomon stood there. “Good morning, High Elder Martin, sir.”

Martin stared at the man who was being overly formal. “How long has Indenuel been asleep?”

“All night. He had a hard cleansing session, sir.”

Martin moved into the cell, staring at the boy. Even with the golden lights of the torches, Indenuel had no color in his face except the dark circles under his eyes.

“I need you to unlock the chains around his torso,” Martin said.

“I have no key, sir. I was asked to give it to someone else to keep Indenuel safe.”

“Who has the key?” Martin asked.

“I cannot say, sir.”

“Is it High Elder Navir?”

“I cannot say, sir,” Tolomon repeated.

Martin took an uneasy breath. “Has one of the members of the High Elders sworn you to silence?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, sir.”

“I need to see his torso,” Martin said.

“I can pick a lock, sir.”

Martin stared at Tolomon’s face, saw how no emotions came from it. “Excellent. Do that for me.”

Tolomon slipped a dagger out from… somewhere. It might have been his shirt sleeve. In no time at all, the lock was off and Tolomon carefully unwrapped Indenuel’s torso. Martin reached forward, untying the first of the strings. It was enough. His worst fears were there. The mark over his sternum was such a deep red color it almost looked black, with thin lines of darkness feeding into it. Martin curled his fists. This had to be Navir’s doing. That man was forcing the poor boy to do something devilish.

“Who else knows about this?” Martin asked.

“I don’t know what you mean, sir,” Tolomon answered.

Martin looked at Tolomon, tears running down his cheeks. “Was it Navir that swore you to silence?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, sir,” Tolomon answered.

Martin dried his eyes, turning around. “Lock him back up, Tolomon. And do not let another High Elder in here without me present. Understand?”

“Completely, sir,” Tolomon said.

Martin went up the steps of the dungeon, feeling betrayed. Anger. Hurt. Most of all, he was terrified for Indenuel’s soul. What signs had he missed? Could he have stopped this sooner? It didn’t matter. He was going to stop it now.

By the time Martin reached the Cathedral, he was fuming. “Where is High Elder Navir,” Martin asked as calmly as he could to one of the guards. His voice was not nearly as calm as he hoped.

“In a meeting with the King and Queen and the other High Elders at the palace,” the guard said.

“Damn!” Martin said, turning around and heading back to his carriage.

“Sir? Is everything alright?” the guard asked.

Martin didn’t answer. He threw open his carriage door. “Palace as fast as possible, please.”

Martin rubbed his forehead, trying to contain his anger. He realized he was mainly angry at Navir. There was little anger for Indenuel. The boy tried to kill him. He lost his powers because of it. He had every right to be angry at the boy, but he couldn’t. He was young, bullied into this situation that never should have happened. The ride to the palace did little to calm his anger. He was sick with worry about the state of Indenuel’s soul. Martin lost his powers and he was placed to one side. He wasn’t being consulted. The High Elders were formed so they could all consult together, not go behind each other’s back. And with Indenuel corrupted as he was, this kind of secrecy, playing with the devil, going behind each other’s back, this could make Santollia fall.

Martin marched right into the council room. King Ramiro was in the process of reading a report when he stopped. “Oh, hello Martin. Forgive me, they said you weren’t going to join us. Would you like me to start from the beginning?”

“What have you done to Indenuel!” Martin shouted at Navir.

Navir raised an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

“Don’t act like I’m an ignorant child. That boy is lying in the dungeon, his mark one shade away from being devil black. What have you done!” Martin shouted.

Queen Lisabeth gasped, covering her mouth. King Ramiro’s eyes widened, dropping the paper.

Navir stood. “Martin enough.”

“I was never consulted. You cannot play with the boy’s soul like this!” Martin said.

Navir’s eyes narrowed. “Your majesties. This is a matter for the High Elder’s to discuss. You are excused. Do not speak a word of what you heard.” The King and Queen still stared at Navir in shock. “Go.” They got up, leaving the room. Martin glared at Navir. “Was it Tolomon that told you?” Navir asked, his voice dangerous.

“No, Tolomon never said a word to me about what happened,” Martin said.

“So he made some sort of gesture? How did you find out?” Navir asked.

Martin realized Tolomon’s life was in danger. If Navir swore him to secrecy, it might be more than just his life. “Nothing Tolomon said or did made me realize what was going on. He fulfilled his oath. You leave him alone.”

Navir narrowed his eyes. “Then how did you find out?”

“You willingly let a marked individual out. You let him use his powers. You honestly thought you could control him?” Martin asked.

“How did you find out,” Navir asked again, emphasizing every word.

Martin didn’t want to admit it, since a part of him still needed Indenuel for his own plans, but he couldn’t keep this one secret. “He slept with Inessa last night. My son saw him. Nathaniel had no idea he was in the dungeon.”

“Indenuel did what?” Fadrique asked.

“Did you know about what Navir was doing with Indenuel?” Martin asked Fadrique.

“He didn’t tell me, but I guessed,” Fadrique said.

“And you didn’t stop him?” Martin asked.

“He is winning this war for us,” Navir said.

“You are the Acting Senior High Elder of God’s Holy Church!” Martin shouted. “You do not push a boy to sell his soul to the devil!”

“He hasn’t!” Navir shouted back. “I checked it myself! I am well within my bounds, even as Acting Senior High Elder, to do what is necessary to protect the people of Santollia!”

“This isn’t protecting Santollia! This is going to get us all killed!” Martin screamed.

“This is going to get us all killed,” Cristoval said at the exact same time Martin said it.

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

The anger disappeared from Martin’s face. Navir, too, looked shocked. They both turned to see Cristoval, sitting in his chair next to Dalius, saying nothing at all.

“What was that?” Martin asked as Cristoval said it at the exact same time, with the same inflection. Goosebumps rose on Martin’s arms. He turned to Dalius for help. Dalius closed his eyes, touching his grandfather’s arm before shaking his head.

“I don’t know what’s hap-” Dalius stalled as Cristoval mirrored exactly what he said, even to the stalling. “-pening,” Dalius and Cristoval finished.

“Is this of the devil?” Fadrique and Cristoval asked.

“Would someone shut him up?” Navir and Cristoval said.

Silence descended in the room. Martin stared at Cristoval, unease filling his soul. Cristoval was glancing around at the spirits no one else could see, smiling wide with excitement in his eyes, every shadow on his face making the hairs on the back of Martin’s neck rise. Dalius still had an arm on his grandfather.

“It’s the beginning of the end,” Cristoval said.

“High Elders!” All four men jumped at King Ramiro’s booming voice.

“What is it?” Navir asked, still staring at Cristoval who resumed his quiet mumbles.

“I have news!” King Ramiro said.

“Come in!” Navir gave Martin a warning look before King Ramiro entered as Queen Lisabeth talked with the messenger.

“Kiam has brought us a letter. They will surrender under one condition,” King Ramiro said.

Navir raised an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”

King Ramiro shut the door, holding the paper out. “The Empress is coming in one month. She wishes to speak to Indenuel personally. Only she, him, and one bodyguard each. She will only negotiate a surrender with the Warrior. Those are her terms.”

Navir winced.

“That sly woman,” Fadrique mumbled.

Martin sighed, rubbing his forehead. “She’s going to find out. They certainly have stories in their culture of marked individuals. She’ll know Indenuel has been using the devil’s-”

“Quiet, Martin,” Navir said through gritted teeth. “Leave us to discuss the letter, your majesty.”

“Yes, High Elder Navir,” King Ramiro said, walking out of the room.

“How much of the mark can you get cleared in a month?” Navir asked Dalius.

“With how black it is?” Dalius asked. “That’s going to take at least a year.”

“She knew this. That’s why she’s coming straight here. She’s going to find out we allowed a marked individual to fight our battles,” Martin said.

“No, she won’t. I told Indenuel when we first started this that he is on his own. I will not protect him, and he will have to act like he did this on his own,” Navir said.

Martin listened, but still had a hard time understanding Navir’s words fully. “Not only did you leave that boy to use these demonic powers, but you assured him you were going to abandon him if he ever got caught?”

“He wanted this just as much as I did. I created the opportunity for him to fulfill the prophecy,” Navir said.

“How many soldiers did he kill?” Martin asked.

“Overall? Or in each battle?” Navir asked.

Martin was so disgusted by Navi’s disinterested voice that he had to lean against a table. “How many battles did that poor boy fight?”

“Three,” Navir answered.

Martin curled his fist, glaring at Navir. “You used a marked individual for your own military gain? To murder a countless number of soldiers? And now the Empress herself is…” Martin covered his face.

Navir turned to Dalius. “Write up an arrest warrant for Inessa. She needs to be in chains and in the dungeon before lunchtime. Tell the guards to ignore any plea she might have to the contrary. Captain Nathaniel is a reliable enough source.”

Dalius nodded, scribbling it down. Martin was breathing heavily, trying to calm his anger. He had the smallest spike of panic, knowing if Inessa and Indenuel were on trial for adultery and found guilty, Inessa would be sent home in disgrace. He wouldn’t have to sleep with her now, which should fill him with relief, but it didn’t. He had a glimpse of the personal hell his secret daughter would returning to, and he couldn’t possibly let that happen. But what else could he do?

Dalius pushed the ink, quill, and paper toward Navir, who signed it. Martin glared at the table, readjusting his plan. He could use this as leverage to keep Inessa safe. He would blackmail Navir if he had to.

“Navir,” Martin said, almost breathless. Sickened by the way these men casually went about their business after doing something so despicable. “What have you done?”

“Oh, enough theatrics, Martin. We have a month to form a plan.”

“The devil’s mark isn’t the only corruptible thing in this world,” Martin said.

“It’s the people who aren’t afraid to do what is necessary who become respected leaders.”

“What is necessary?” The nausea was more powerful than ever. “The Empress is coming here, and there are still over a thousand soldiers right outside the wall.”

Fadrique shook his head. “Not anymore. Indenuel killed them all.”

Martin’s soul shriveled at Fadrique’s words. “What?”

“Indenuel got so strong he created water and drowned them all,” Fadrique said.

Martin’s heart pounded. “But that’s impossible. The elements… he couldn’t have done that unless he sold his soul.”

“And yet, marked as he was, he created it and killed a thousand soldiers,” Navir said. Martin again leaned against the table, feeling lightheaded, sinking into the Queen’s empty chair. A thousand. Indenuel murdered a thousand soldiers. “I shall begin making the incense now. We will wake Indenuel so he can learn what’s at stake. He must convince the Empress that what he did was through the power of God, and not the devil, and coerce her into signing a treaty to end the war. We will also place him under trial for his adultery. That, I’m sure, has caused some of the darkness in his mark. Indenuel is unstable as a marked individual, so the lighter his mark, the more confident we can be when he visits with the Empress.”

Martin knew he needed to speak, but he was too shocked to get his mind working again. A thousand soldiers. The devil’s powers. Water.

“What do we tell the people?” Fadrique asked as Martin tried to steady himself.

“Indenuel used water. This is, according to the church, God’s power. We feed them the same story we feed the Empress. Indenuel fulfilled the prophecy. We are just working out the remaining peace talk.”

“The prophecy only said five hundred. He slaughtered a thousand,” Fadrique said.

“I know that. You know that. Martin and Dalius know that. Indenuel knows that. No one else does. And that is how we will keep it.”

“Are you seriously so blinded by your power that you think this is going to work?” Martin asked, rising from his chair. “Indenuel has wiped out over a thousand soldiers, and the Empress is weeding out our one tool to ending this war.”

“Kiam no longer dares come up against us. I am confident in this course of action,” Navir said.

“And what of Indenuel? If she figures out he’s marked, she will demand we kill him, and we will have no other option but to agree.”

Navir shrugged. “I guess we will.”

Martin glared at Navir. Glared at the man he once considered a friend and mentor. And then he punched him right in the mouth.

Navir flew back, throwing a hand out to brace himself against the wall, keeping his other hand on his mouth. Fadrique and Dalius were on their feet. King Ramiro opened the door, taking a few steps in. “Is everything alright?”

“No!” Martin grabbed the front of Dalius’ robes. “No, nothing is alright! We don’t focus on the Empress. We don’t focus on the war.” He dragged Dalius out of the room. Dalius was too surprised and shocked to fight back. “We focus on one thing alone. Get that mark off Indenuel. Are we clear?”

“Did you just hit Navir?” Dalius asked.

“No one else can. And someone needed to.”

Martin kept a hold of Dalius’ robes as they descended into the dungeon. Dalius was nervous but did nothing to fight back. Martin threw open the cell door and pushed Dalius in. Tolomon took a step forward, watching carefully.

“You sit in the chair next to him and you get that mark off,” Martin said, his anger bubbling over.

“I can’t do this in one month,” Dalius said.

“I don’t expect you to clear it in one month. I expect you to spend all your energy working on clearing it because that’s what we do as High Elders. We protect the souls that follow us so they can rest easily in the next life. You get that mark off that boy’s chest, even if it takes you a year! You never should have agreed to this! This is wrong!”

“You wanted Kiam to win, then?” Dalius asked, brushing off his robes as Tolomon picked the lock again.

“I would rather have Kiam burn this city to the ground than have the devil claim this boy’s soul. He has experienced hell enough as it is,” Martin said.

Dalius glared at Martin as Tolomon removed the chains from Indenuel’s torso. “He agreed to this. It was his idea. Don’t blame us for what he wanted to do.”

“I will blame you. He came to you, and you agreed to this devilish idea. You are a High Elder. You know better,” Martin said as Navir and Fadrique appeared in the doorway of the cell. Tolomon untied the strings of Indenuel’s shirt.

“Don’t pretend your soul is so clean, Martin,” Fadrique said as Navir held a handkerchief to his mouth.

“It’s not. I know we’re all in danger of the horrors of Hell. Which is why we must be diligent in making sure no one follows us down there,” Martin said.

Tolomon opened Indenuel’s shirt, moving it down to his elbows. Martin shuddered as he saw the mark in its entirety. Tolomon straightened before freezing at the sight of Navir’s bleeding lip. His eyes traveled over Martin’s hands, spying the red knuckles. He raised both eyebrows, impressed.

Dalius sat down in the chair, touching the individual marks on Indenuel’s chest before pulling. A little corruption began to ooze out of his chest. It was a little, but it was a start.

Navir checked his handkerchief. “We go ahead with my plan. The Empress will be here in a month to discuss a treaty with Indenuel. We train him on what to say. We do what we can to cleanse his mark. When he wakes up, we will try him for adultery and see if that will help cleanse the mark. This meeting is over.” Navir placed the handkerchief back on his lip.

Dalius kept pulling small bits of the corruption out. Tolomon stared at Navir’s lip, and Navir, feeling the weight of the gaze, glared back at him. Tolomon looked away, letting him see the humor in his face. Tolomon, it seemed, did not care that Navir got punched and wasn’t about to alert the other Graduates. Navir headed back up the stairs. Fadrique followed after.

“I shall check in tonight,” Martin said, walking up to Tolomon. The man looked surprised that Martin was talking to him instead of Dalius. “I expect a full report, including if Dalius swore you to secrecy for any reason. I shall also check Indenuel’s mark myself every night.” Martin finally turned toward Dalius. “And it better not get any blacker.”

Dalius said nothing. He simply continued to pull, glaring at Martin.

“I will perform these duties to the best of my abilities,” Tolomon said.

“Thank you.” Martin patted the man on the shoulder before heading up the stairs. “I know you will.”

A guard walked toward them with a note. “High Elder Dalius has been requested on an errand.”

“He’s busy at the moment,” Martin said.

“It’s just… it’s from Captain Nathaniel, sir. About your concubine.” The guard held up the paper. “They tried to arrest her, but she can’t wake up. Ana, widow of Carlos, believes she’s in a demon induced sleep.”

Tolomon’s face turned unreadable, but Martin still noticed him give Indenuel the smallest of glances.