“I don’t remember much. Just that they were tall.” Helspira freed a short laugh. “I was the runt of the litter.”
“Litter?”
The confusion in his tone made her wince. “Sorry. I’m not sure what the human phrase is when multiple children are born to the same mother.”
“No, that’s fine, I likelitter. In fact, the next mother I see is getting a compliment on her litter of children.”
Helspira smiled. “And Imri? What was she like?”
“Oh, indescribable. The Red Sentinels adored her, but it’s hard not to like a woman who channels her goddess’s powers into healing one’s injuries, yeah? She was an amazing person and an even better sister. Easy to love. I wager that’s one of the reasons Sikras has such a hard time letting her go. Given their clashing religious beliefs, they both knew they weren’t destined for forever, but still ...” Ben sighed. “There’s no right move for widowers, really. If you move on, you’re the villain, and if you don’t, you’re the victim. I never envied his position.”
Oh, good, the pity was back. Helspira bit the inside of her cheek, wishing for once that her callous demonic impulses would surface to keep her on course.
“At least he finally responded to Saelihn’s summonses,” Ben continued. “This’ll be good for us. For him. All those years with only me for company left him a little ... aberrant.”
Helspira arched a brow as Catseye danced around a very unamused Red Sentinel. “He hides it well. Though, based on the murderous glare that sentinel’s wearing, Catseye may be in actual danger if he keeps that up.”
Ben waved a dismissive hand. “They won’t hurt him no matter how much he annoys them. Most of these soldiers know what he’s capable of. Even in his current state, I’d bet my life they’re too scared to try anything.”
“No more music?” Catseye’s inquiry rose above the trilling bugs and birds as he jogged toward Ben and Helspira, panting. “Thought for sure I’d get a reaction out of the ole banneret, but he’s taken to artfully ignoring me.”
“I’m sure he’s just focusing on the plan,” Helspira said to keep the peace. “On that subject, Catseye, have you given any thought to how we’ll face off with Vessik without you being ... um ...”
“Useful in any meaningful way?”
“Your words,” she said, “not mine.”
Catseye paced the ground, picking at the golden band around his ring finger with his thumb. “Tough to say. I thought I knew his limits, but it seems dear Vessik is full of surprises. At the very least, we know the limits of the people he has under his command.”
Helspira raised her chin. “Care to elaborate?”
“You saw who we killed in Vinepool. Beggars. Farmers. The impoverished. The destitute. Vessik didn’t give them explosives as a show of power; he gave them explosives because they can’t swing a sword, and random shrapnel has a better chance of killing than a malnourished man with a rusty blade. The R.S. will make short work of Vessik’s men, living or dead.”
“They have been for years,” Helspira said. “Killing them isn’t the issue, keeping them dead is, and while his makeshift soldiers are no problem for a sentinel, they’re still deadly to your average Nyllmas citizen. We shouldn’t underestimate him, especially considering his unnatural ability to cast potent spells without repercussion.”
“Yeah, what’s up with that?” Catseye grimaced, absently scratching at his cheek. “One time, during our apprenticeship, Vessik didn’t use a hard ‘a’ on the verbal component of a spell, and instead of creating minor illusions, he gave our mentor minor contusions. Not deadly in any way, of course. Come to think of it, the magical backlash Vessik suffered from performing the spell was worse than the bruises our mentor sustained. In any case, Vessik felt so badly about it, he wrote a ten-page letter of apology.”
Helspira crossed her arms. “Well, he’s not issuing any apology letters these days.”
“Right,” Catseye mumbled, looking away. “Regardless of his soldiers’ lack of skill, an army is still an army. Assuming he is in Stow’s Peak, and he did turn the village, we’ll still have to wade through undead to reach him. Red Sentinel scarves aren’t exactly prime camouflage either. He’d have plenty of time to pick us out in a crowd, and if he can cast something as powerful as a mass mental-manipulation spell, it’s likely he has other powerful incantations in his arsenal.”
Struck by an epiphany, Helspira straightened. “Catseye, can you cast a mental-manipulation spell on someone who doesn’t have a brain to manipulate?”
“Well”—his head flinched back, and his eyebrows pulled together—“no, I suppose not.”
“And,” she continued, “even though Ben is sentient, he doesn’ttechnicallyhave a brain.”
Ben’s hands slid to his hips. “I feel like I should be offended, but I’m far too intrigued by where you’re going with this.”
Excitement spread through her chest, and she snapped her fingers, pointing. “You also said no one could differentiate one skeleton from another in battle, didn’t you?”
Skepticism consumed Catseye’s narrow-eyed gaze. “I’m not sure I like where this is heading.”
Undeterred, Helspira sprang up and down on her feet, fists clenched in exhilaration. “If Vessik is hiding in Stow’s Peak, Ben could easily infiltrate the village, pose as one of his undead, and get close enough to end him without fear of being manipulated.”
“Well, damn.” Ben tapped his chin, nodding. “That’s not a bad idea.”
Catseye rounded on Ben, jaw agape. “You can’t be serious. You’d face Vessik? Alone?”
