"Stay here," said Eramus, touching Evree's shoulder before making his way to where the man lay, blood gushing from the side of his head. Eramus gripped his tunic and yanked him closer with one hand while conjuring an orb of light with the other. "Who hired you?"
The man blinked at him. "I'm not telling you anything. What kind of monster are you? What is this dark power you wield?"
Heat washed over Eramus's skin, but he didn't have time to defend himself or answer the man's questions. Eramus tightened his hold, lowering his voice. "Tell me who hired you, or take your last breath."
He had never killed a man before, nor did he have any intention of doing so, but this mercenary didn't know that, and Eramus would make good use of the man's ignorance. He focused on his spell, causing the aura to increase in luminescence. The blue light reflected in the man's wide eyes, and panic flooded his expression.
"I can't! I'm as good as dead if I tell you!"
"You're as good as dead if you don't!" said Eramus, moving the light orb closer to the man's face. "Why did you plunder those villages? Who paid you to burn them?"
"No one paid me to do that…just a bit of fun along the way."
Eramus growled, his rage building. "Explain."
The mercenary squirmed under Eramus’s hold, his gaze fixated on the light. “Someone hired me to go afterher!” He pointed to Evree, who sniffed at the confession. “A man in a dark cloak paid me three bags of gold to do it. Half up front, and half when I completed the job.”
"Who hired you!" Eramus was losing whatever patience he had left. He needed answers, but he couldn't wait around forever to get them. More mercenaries could flood the tent at any moment, not to mention Arnan and Kieran were likely neck deep in trouble by now.
"I never knew his name…never saw his face. He kept it covered when he made me the offer. Gave me the girl's details—what she looked like, where she lived…all of it. Please! Believe me! All I know is he wanted your little lady dead."
The word reverberated through the air like the toll of a bell, sending a wave of shivers across his skin. "Dead?"
Evree gasped and wrapped her arms around herself. Eramus's pulse raced out of control. "What do you mean, dead? If he hired you to kill her, then why bring her here?" He shuddered at his words, grateful the man had decided not to do so.
"He instructed me to kill her, but I thought if I brought her back here, it would give me leverage to ask for more. Whoever this man is, he's loaded. Seemed desperate to be rid of her."
Inara's words echoed through his mind. She had said the man who took Evree had altered his plan. He had intended to kill her, but greed changed his course.
Eramus's body shook with rage. "You're telling me that not only did you intend to kill her, but you planned to see how much gold you could milk from the situation?" He shoved him hard against the ground. "You're despicable! If anyone is a monster, it's you!"
The man shielded his face, as though he expected an attack at any moment. "Please! Don't kill me! We'll leave and never come back. I swear it! Not that I have much choice now."
"How so?"
The mercenary shook his head. "This man…there was something about him. I have two decades of experience, most jobs involving revenge of some sort, but this one was different.Hewas different. Threatened my life if I failed." He drew in a deep breath and winced. "I don't know who he is, but he has power and money. He wants her dead, and now he'll want me dead, too. Hiding from someone like that is the only chance we have at surviving."
"Then I suggest you leave now. Take your men and go. If I ever see you in Izarden again, I won't hesitate to execute the man's threat myself."
The mercenary wasted no time scrambling to his feet, and in seconds, he parted the cloth, scurrying away without looking back.
Someone had hired mercenaries to kill Evree. Eramus's stomach twisted, making him nauseous. The mercenary had described the man as someone with wealth and power, and Eramus could think of only one person with motivation who held that description—King Delran.
But how had the king known about Evree? Why hadn't he come for Eramus directly? His head swirled with questions, but the most concerning was that the king must have someone watching him. It was the only plausible conclusion, and that meant Evree wasn't safe. She might never be, even if he left to Verascene.
"Eramus."
Evree's weak voice jarred him out of his thoughts. He turned to face her, and the sight of her blood-stained clothes sent his stomach into his throat. She pressed her stained hands against her waist just before her trembling body fell to the ground.
Eramus darted to her side and frantically slid his arm under her head. "Evree! Evree, please wake up!"
He shook her, but she gave no response. Blood soaked her midsection, and a wide rip in her lavender gown revealed a gash that gushed with crimson. How had he not noticed her injury before? He glanced to the plunder, noting the streaks of red coating various objects. A small dagger protruded from the pile, likely a family heirloom from a ransacked village, now covered in the fluid of death.
Evree's face paled, her lips losing their pink color, leaving them an eerie purple. Eramus placed his hands over her wound. He had to do it, but fear gripped him, making his muscles so tight his entire body ached. What if he didn't perform the spell properly? What if he couldn't remember the correct words?
He drew a deep breath. If he did nothing, he would lose her. He had to try.
Blue light flickered around his hands as he recited the words to the healing spell. Eramus watched her wound, his hope draining with every second that passed.
