The gaoler gave a clumsy bow and left Teryn and Captain Alden alone before the cell.
Teryn arched a brow and lowered his voice. “We’re sure he’s not our man?”
“He was off duty at the time the prisoner was murdered,” Alden said. “His wife confirmed it, as did the guards. The guards themselves patrolled in pairs, and each soldier has confirmed their partner’s presence. None saw any suspicious characters leave or enter the dungeon hall.”
Teryn had already been told as much. No one had seen anything strange. No unfamiliar servants. No delayed guard rotations. He had to acknowledge that much of the castle’s staff was relatively new and more positions were constantly being filled as the crown regained its wealth and stability. So could he truly trust that there hadn’t been a suspicious soul in sight during that time?
“I’m not supposed to be here.” The ghost approached the open cell door. Well, Teryn supposed there was one suspicious soul after all.
“Will you give me a moment, Captain?”
Alden’s brows knit, but she folded into an obedient bow.
Once alone, Teryn faced the ghost. “Who are you?” he whispered.
“You…you can see me. I knew you could.” His voice trembled, as thin and frail as a fallen leaf.
Teryn reworded his question. “What is your name?”
“John McMullighan, sir. Or…Majesty.”
That wasn’t the name on record for the prisoner. Not that anyone believed the name the spy had given. Vlad Samarus. The surname was one of the most common in Norun and practically screamedfake.
“Where are you from?” Teryn asked.
“I’m from northern Khero, Majesty. Greenfair Village.”
Teryn pondered the village name. It was north of Ridine Castle. “How did you come to be in this cell?”
The ghost’s voice turned pleading again. “I don’t know. I was at the tavern after a hard week’s work, same as usual. I headed home after a few pints, and then…I have no memories of what happened. Next thing I know, I…I’m looking at my body.”
If the ghost’s tale was true, perhaps the gaoler was right after all. That was, of course, even more troubling. It meant the prisoner hadn’t been murdered for giving away intel. Instead, he’d been freed and replaced with a decoy.
Seven devils…
The prisoner was free. He’d left them with key information about the enemy, but what could he have gleaned in exchange? What had he learned that he could now use against them? And most pressing of all, who the hell had freed the man? Who was the traitor?
Teryn rubbed his jaw. This was bad.
“Take me home.” The ghost reached for Teryn’s hand, making Teryn launch a step back.
Yearning struck him then, the same he’d felt when the warrior wraith had looked at him from the charred field. “What do you mean, take you home?”
“I don’t want to be here. I’m not supposed to be here. I…I want to go back. I have a home, a family. You must take me home.”
Pity tightened Teryn’s chest. “You can’t go home. Your body is dead.”
The ghost stepped forward again. “You can take me home. You can make this end.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
The spirit’s tone took on an eerie quality, edged with desperation. The yearning sensation grew, multiplied tenfold. “You are a black flame, burning like the embrace of a cruel mother. As final as death. As comforting as home. Take me home. Take me home. TAKE ME HOME.”
“Fine,” he rushed to say. He didn’t know what he was agreeing to, only that he wanted to stop the specter’s frantic wailing. The ghost reached for Teryn’s hand again, and this time he didn’t flinch away. This time, he extended his palm.
Fingers he couldn’t feel closed around his hand. The spirit’s expression shifted from agonized to peaceful in the blink of an eye.
Then he was gone.
