Helspira stood firm. “With respect, Banneret Rowan, Catseye was clear he’d turn on you and likely the whole of the Red Sentinel if you harm Ben. I know it’s not my place, but I strongly advise against—”
“He also said undead are near impossible to identify in the heat of battle,” Rowan interrupted. “Since you so boldly invited yourself into this conversation, I’ll be straightforward. It would beveryeasy for that skeleton to suffer a tragic accident.”
“Are you insane? Catseye almost killed you in the Grand—” She stopped short upon realizing her tone lacked proper respect. Helspira cleared her throat, fighting through the discomfort in her stomach. “I mean, he almost killed you, sir.”
It looked as if the banneret had swallowed a barrel of oil and flame and was fit to explode. Despite his body language, he replied with eerie calm. “Time has proven there will be more skirmishes to come. In the chaos of battle, we’ll blame the skeleton’s fall on Vessik’s minions. If we can direct Catseye’s wrath at Vessik, the threat would be absolved before sun set.”
“But Queen Saelihn”—Helspira shook her head—“I know she admitted this would be easier if Catseye’s power wasn’t tied up in keeping Ben alive, but undead or not, he’s still her friend. If you go through with this, and she discovers what you’ve done—”
“I would lay down my life for our queen,” Banneret Rowan rumbled. “She is an admirable ruler, but her devotion to Goddess Tiagon leaves her with one flaw; she cannot be the sword to strike down her enemies. We can.”
“But Ben isn’t our enemy,” Helspira countered.
“Why should he get to stay when so many have fallen due to his continued existence?” Nostrils flared as hushed whispers turned to unbalanced rage. The banneret’s chest heaved from ragged breaths as he slowly relaxed his tight fists. “Anyone who hinders Nyllmas’s safety is our enemy. When you beseeched me to become a Red Sentinel, you said you wanted to be a hero to your kingdom. Here’s your opportunity.”
A hero. The word made Helspira’s pulse thrum. The banneret didn’t speak thoughtlessly; he held plentiful sway in the queen’s castle. It was that influence alone which likely spared him from dire repercussions after he had attacked Ben in the Grand Hall, but she doubted he would find that same mercy twice.
To betray Ben though, her abomination ally, a fellow monster among men, it was unthinkable. Especially when he had been one of the first souls to extend her any kindness.
And then, there was her promise to Catseye. Helspira hadn’t considered when she had made that promise that Ben was actually under any threat from the Red Sentinel.
“This is an opportunity for all of you.” Rowan pointed at each gathered party, ending on Helspira. “This can’t be left to me. Catseye will be watching me like a hawk. This frees the lot of you to step up for crown and kingdom. Now, go. And not a word of this to anyone lest you trust them with your lives.”
Helspira stumbled backward as the others stormed past her. Soon only her and Banneret Rowan remained in the dim alley.
And what an unsettling feeling that was.
Eager to leave, Helspira stepped away. She managed two footfalls before the pressure of Banneret Rowan’s hand on her arm halted her.
“Should any word of what we discussed be uttered into the ears of another,” he whispered with a glare, “your career with the R.S. will be over. I will see you and your parents thrown back into the very pit you crawled out of. Understood?”
Gut him. Paint the alley with his blood.
Helspira clenched her teeth. Though she often filed her claws for the sake of blending in, it would’ve been so incredibly easy to scratch out those beady, brown eyes. She tempered her growing rage with a slow exhale. “Believe it or not, I want what’s best for Nyllmas too, Banneret.”
“Good.” With haste, he freed her, wiping his palm on his armor. “I struggled to see your kind’s usefulness amongst the sentinels, but a task as abhorrent as this seems made for a demon. Your involvement may actually prove a delightful surprise. Don’t waste this opportunity.”
Helspira bit the inside of her cheek with such force that she tasted blood. It was the only way to keep her from saying something she shouldn’t. “Catseye is about to interrogate one of Vessik’s men. They’re by the bronze horse. He’s hopeful we’ll get knowledge regarding Vessik’s location.”
Banneret Rowan nodded and smoothed out his hair. “Best news I’ve heard all fucking day.”
Unwilling to move, she watched him go. Helspira had never entertained the illusion that she would immediately fit within humanity’s little clique but had thought—hoped—she could prove her worth some day. “He just wants what’s best for Nyllmas,” she reminded herself as she stood taller. “Same as you.”
Even if he had a shitty way of showing it, the banneret was not a bad person.
People were good. Nyllmas was good. She believed it entirely.
She had to.
Forcing herself forward, Helspira traipsed through the crowds toward the bronze horse. The townsfolk seemed to move in slow motion, nothing more than ethereal blurs and distorted voices. Duty waged war against ethics, and just as she thought she had convinced herself that Banneret Rowan was right, that Ben’s death was necessary, that Catseye could be deceived into unleashing the full force of his power on Vessik once he abandoned the hopeless endeavor of defying death itself, she spotted him in the crowd—Catseye. He nudged Ben with his elbow, said something she couldn’t hear, and flashed a huge grin.
He looked so happy.
Rowan stood beside him, unamused, broad arms crossed, not a trace of planned deception on his face.
B’yehnz, she was going to be sick. How did she wind up in this position?
Helspira lurched forward, one hand over her stomach. By the time she closed the distance between herself and the others, she surmised the only way to fight the growing nausea was to focus on the task at hand.
