Chapter Seven
Helspira
HELSPIRA GRAZED THElaceration at her temple to ensure the bleeding had stopped. It had. A demon’s wounds never bled long.
It almost felt as if the pressure of Catseye’s fingers lingered. The thin cloth had acted as a barrier; nevertheless, the chill of his touch penetrated to her skin. Such cold hands. How, then, did his act fill her with an odd warmth? Was it the gentleness? The beseeching of her consent?
Either way, it was unlike any touch she had experienced before, even when Cecil pretended to love her.
Helspira forced her smile to vanish the second she realized it appeared. This was no time for naïve thoughts to drain her senses.
The last time they did, it cost her an eye.
Even with heightened hearing, locating Banneret Rowan in the frenzy of frightened voices and scattering feet proved difficult. She spun, squinting to home her night vision, apologizing to every horrified citizen who accidentally ran into her as they streaked toward the perceived safety of Queen Saelihn’s castle. Where there was a queen, there were sentinels, and where there were sentinels, there was protection. At least, the illusion of it.
A familiar accent reached her ears through the chaos. She could recognize the dark rumble of Banneret Rowan’s voice anywhere. She should’ve been able to decipher his words, but they sounded purposefully hushed. Secretive. Helspira frowned and took quiet paces toward the source.
In the corner of a darkened alley, littered with empty, wooden crates and produce likely spilled in the chaos, she spied his looming shadow. Three additional sentinels stood before him. She recognized two as the banneret’s known confidants. They always had their heads so far up Rowan’s arse, he could’ve charged them rent.
“I cannot stress how vital it is to do this with the utmost discretion,” Banneret Rowan mumbled to his crew. “If the queen discovers we’re responsible, she’ll put us away for life, assuming she doesn’t condemn us to death.”
“It’s not the queen I’m worried about,” one sentinel whispered. “It’s that fucking necromancer. You saw what he did in the Grand Hall. I’m gonna have nightmares for months.”
“I fought with him and Sentinel Champion Reese five years ago,” the second sentinel added. “The Grand Hall was nothing compared to what that bastard’s capable of.”
The banneret scoffed. “Catseye is capable of nothing so long as he wastes his power keeping that fucking corpse upright.”
“I liked Sentinel Champion Reese,” the timid third figure uttered. “He was good for morale. Knew how to swing a sword, too.”
Tendons strained in Banneret Rowan’s neck as he sent the man a threatening glare. “Sentinel Champion Reese is dead. Thatthingis an abomination. Your orders are simple. To whomever puts the skeleton down with stealth and realigns Catseye’s focus to the cause, I will not only promise the queen’s veneration but all of Nyllmas’s. You’d be a hero to your kingdom.”
Helspira’s heart bellowed like war drums. Whether from the thrilling prospect of being a hero or disgust at murdering Ben, she had no idea. But loyalty was loyalty, and two things were certain: Queen Saelihn had made it clear she wanted no harm to come to her old, undead friend from the side of the sentinels, and Helspira had promised Catseye the very same. Driven by duty, she stepped from the shadows and targeted Banneret Rowan with her stare. “Banneret, tell me my ears deceive me.”
All four men jolted at her presence.
“The demon?” Rowan’s rigid shoulders relaxed, but the disgust in his expression remained. “This is a private discussion, sentinel.”
