Ben shrugged. “I’m sure you and the R.S. would be on standby if anything went wrong.”
“And how would we know if anything went wrong, Benjamin? Telepathy? Or shall we wait for the ear-piercing sound of your screams?”
In the face of Catseye’s frazzled sarcasm, Ben placed his hands on the necromancer’s shoulders. “Once a Red Sentinel, always a Red Sentinel. I took an oath to protect Nyllmas with my life.”
“Which you did.” Catseye gestured to Ben’s bones. “Look at you. You’ve paid your dues.”
“Sikras—”
“Benjamin, I will get on my knees.” Catseye pressed the tip of his finger into Ben’s sternum. “I will fall before you and scuttle pathetically, bowing, begging, and praying to whatever god or goddess will listen to keep you from sacrificing yourself, and I assure you, it will be very embarrassing for the both of us.”
The bickering voices of both men faded into the background as Helspira cupped her hand over her mouth. If this worked, if Ben could get close to Vessik and end this without Catseye’s power, not only could she help save Nyllmas but she could spare herself the nightmare of having to follow through with Rowan’s order. Her excitement was cut short by Catseye’s concern.
“Too many things could go wrong, and then what? You’d have no way out of there. Vessik can’t manipulate your mind, but in case you forgot”—Catseye rapped his scythe against the cuirass Ben kept from the armory—“the only thing keeping you upright is a loosely planted rock and a thin piece of thread. Dionus has been clamoring to claim your soul for years. We got lucky in the Grand Hall, but next time, he might beat me to it before I can pull you back from Enos.”
Helspira stiffened at the sound of his panic. Dread was a strange look for a man who had come off as horribly nonchalant for most of the time she had known him. His concerns weren’t unfounded. A lot of things could go wrong. But ... “What if Ben had a way to get out of Stow’s Peak immediately after killing Vessik?”
From where he very nearly started groveling on the ground, Catseye faced her. “I’d say that would be a miracle.”
“Close,” she said. “I was thinking more magical.”
He arched a brow, expression flat. “Need I remind you that I failed my wizardry apprenticeship? Unless it’s a corpse or a shadow blade, it’s outside my realm, and even if it wasn’t, I’d need eyes on Ben to pull off a teleportation spell. You can’t teleport what you can’t see.”
“I ...” Ugh, why did it take so much effort to say? Helspira placed a hand over her stomach, a poor attempt to soothe the discomfort swirling beneath her palm. “I know a wizard in Everferd. He’s an acquaintance of an old”—she cringed—“an acquaintance of an acquaintance.”
Catseye dusted the dirt from his knees as he stood. “You two sound close. I’m sure this wizard of yours would be delighted to help the acquaintance of an acquaintance of an acquaintance.”
“Theodore—err, the wizard—would never participate in the battle,” Helspira said, “but he has a library of enchanted items. He’s a very serious collector of anything arcane.”
Though his flat gaze indicated disbelief, Catseye encouraged her to continue, with a small nod. “Consider my interest piqued.”
She scrubbed the back of her neck, muscles tight. “I never saw it for myself, but Cecil, um ... my acquaintance ... spoke of Theodore’s collectionallthe time.”
“And what exactly is it from this collection that will aid us in brutally murdering my old friend?” Catseye asked.
“A scroll of sacred passage. The enchantment allows the speaker of the scroll’s words to bend time and walk between planes to another location, almost as if they’re transporting themselves from one place to another in an instant. Ben could infiltrate Vessik’s army of undead to kill him, and if anything went wrong, he could use the scroll to escape before he met any harm, no knowledge of the arcane required. Cecil called it magic for idiots.”
“Really?” Cradling his chin, Catseye paced the field. “I don’t know. A magical scroll? That seems a little on the nose, doesn’t it?”
“Says the guy who accidentally gained the full force of Enos from eating cheese with a magic spoon,” Ben muttered.
Had she heard him right? Helspira blinked, certain she would never hear those words strung together that way again. “We’ll circle back to that story, because it clearly begs telling, but first I must alert the banneret. One moment.” Unable to contain her excitement, she all but bounded toward the front of the line, shedding the sorrow of her circumstances with each springy step. Sweet, merciful fate, if this worked, she wouldn’t have to kill Ben, wouldn’t have to betray a poor, mentally unstable widower, wouldn’t have to worry about Nyllmas or her parents’ safety within it. They could finally start living freely.
As freely as demons could live in a land that greatly feared them, anyway.
“Banneret.” Helspira slid in front of him, hands outstretched. “I just had thebestidea.”
His forehead wrinkled when he arched a brow. “If it involves you smashing that lute against a rock and breaking the necromancer’s legs, I’m all ears.”
“Can we discuss this privately?” Helspira stood on her tiptoes, peering over the crowd to find Catseye and Ben still at the back. She leaned in, voice lowered. “I have a plan for getting rid of Vessik without having to kill Ben.”
The banneret grimaced and glanced over his shoulder. He motioned her to follow, parting from the small company, until the likelihood of them being within earshot waned. “I hesitate to believe this plan of yours will yield any results but spill it.”
“I know a wizard in Everferd with a collection of arcane items, one of which is a rare scroll of sacred passage. If we can secure the scroll, Ben can pose as one of Vessik’s undead, infiltrate Stow’s Peak, kill Vessik, and if anything goes wrong, he’ll have the scroll to get out without repercussion.”
Silence cut like a knife as Helspira studied the banneret’s stoic face, searching for signs of his thoughts. He gave away nothing. She started to doubt the validity of her strategy, until he whispered, “That’s perfect.”
“Isn’t it?” Even at a whisper, her voice squeaked with delight. “We don’t have to kill Ben.”
