I slid my hands into my cloak, grasped the dagger on my belt and another in my cloak, and waited for the attack.
The men all had a military look to them. A Brandva, a Ricarri, and an Okon. Large men with large muscles. The Ricarri would pose the greatest problem, what with his Metal magic. I'd have to kill him first or he might use my weapons against me. That's if I could get past the Okon's wings and the Brandva's horns.
“Holy shit!” The Brandva stood up and came over to us. “You did it. You got one to take the job.”
“Actually, he won't agree to the job until after he's heard what it is,” the X'anti said.
I remained frozen, hands ready to draw.
The Brandva snorted. “I don't blame you.” He held out his hand to me. “I'm Commander Marzon of the Castle Guard.”
I released the dagger on my hip to take the man's hand. “Ru'din of the Midnight Clan.”
“Nice to meet you, Ru'din.” He motioned at the Ricarri, then the Okon. “These men are General Rontor of the Royal Army and Captain Rin of the Talons.”
They nodded to me as my heart sped up. I was in a room with three of the most powerful men in the city. And one of them was in charge of punishing people like me.
“Take the weekend off, Lun. You deserve it.” Commander Marzon said to the X'anti.
“Thank you, Sir,” the X'anti said and hurried out of the room, giving me the distinct impression that he was glad to get me off his hands.
“This way.” The Captain of the Castle Guard escorted me out of the room.
To be honest, I was glad to get away from the Captain of the Talons.
We went in the opposite direction of the X'anti, deeper into the castle. Up stairs, down corridors, into a fucking elevator, up several more floors, down more corridors. If I were anyone else, I would have been lost. I wasn't. I was, however, getting nervous.
Then I saw the Dragons.
Four of them, all soldiers, standing at attention, two to either side of a heavily carved door. There wasn't an inch on the thing that wasn't adorned.
Right, in there was where I'd find the King. Dragons didn't serve in the Horns or even in the Talons. Because Dragons don't serve anyone other than a Dragon King.
Holy shit, I really was about to meet the King!
“Commander,” one of the Dragon knights said in greeting. “You found a thief?”
“Oh, I'm a Raltven, so I must be a thief?” I asked.
The Dragon man—a big brunette with a heavy brow—frowned at me. “No. I mean, yes, you're a Raltven, and the King asked the Commander to find a Raltven thief, so—”
“He's teasing you, Sir Fren,” the Captain said.
Sir Fren scowled at me. “You'd best show more respect to His Majesty, Thief.”
“Sure.” I smirked. “As long as His Majesty deserves it.”
Metal clanked as the knight hunched forward. “What the fuck did you—”
“The King wanted to be notified as soon as we found a thief,” the Commander once more interrupted the knight. “Do you mind?”
Sir Fren narrowed his eyes at me but opened the door and waved us past. He continued to glare at me as I walked by. I winked at him. That's when he noticed my eyes. He drew back, his expression going slack.
We Raltven aren't varied in our coloring like Dragons or humans. We're more like the X'anti, Brandva, and Ricarri, with a common appearance. We were dark-haired, dark-eyed, and pale skinned. I've got the Raltven hair and skin, but my eyes were unusual. Some Raltven call it a mutation, some say I have a non-Raltven ancestor, and some say I'm cursed. I say I'm lucky. My eyes have gotten me out of the bad sort of trouble and into the good sort more times than I could count. I don't know what it was about a Raltven with blue eyes that made people shiver—in all sorts of ways—but I worked with what nature gave me.
Fren looked as if I'd startled and disturbed him. So, it was the bad sort of shiver. Of all the strange features that the many races of Serai possessed, I thought it was hilarious that it was the color of my eyes that unsettled some people. Especially when a Dragon was the one getting upset. He probably thought it was a sign of my evil soul or some shit. As if someone's outward appearance had anything to do with who they were.
Sir Fren closed the door behind us, and the Captain led me through an empty room. As in completely empty—no furniture, no art, nothing. Just a rectangular space.
