The question rolled her stomach, and she looked away. “You can’t always trust people just because they did a good thing once or twice.”
As if he sensed an untold story, he gestured for her to continue.
Helspira grimaced. “Do you know what a diavolos is?” she whispered into the dark.
“Do I ever.” Sikras nodded. “I’m familiar with all the beings who consume or manipulate souls in some way. It’s all Death goes on about. But diavoli, yeah, the spawn of a mortal and a deity. They live in Chthonia, yes?”
“Mostly. They mainly stick to Chthonia given how aggressively humans hunt them, but with their wings, they’re one of the few creatures who can fly up through the openings to walk Siaphara’s soil.”
“I wager there’s a reason you’re mentioning them?” he asked, brows raised.
“I trusted a diavolos to bring my parents and I to the surface. To fly us up, one by one. I bargained with him. Diavoli love bargains. I did everything he asked. He stayed true to his word, flew my parents and I out of Chthonia, but ... ” She wrapped her arms around her body. “I wasn’t right to trust him, Sikras. I thought he was good, just misunderstood, like me, like my parents, like the others in Chthonia with softer hearts. I was wrong. As soon as he got us out of Chthonia, as soon as he upheld his end of the bargain, he turned on us. My mum had to kill him. I thought I got her out of Chthonia in time, but—I’m convinced that was the day she snapped, the day she lost the last bit of her ...”
It seemed he waited for her to elaborate, but she couldn’t. Wouldn’t relive those memories. He did not force her. Even in the face of her secrecy, his optimism remained. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I still don’t think I’m wrong about you though.”
Her insides squeezed. Gods, she hoped his trust was well placed.
As the overhead stars swam in the nebulous sky, Helspira leaned back. With tomorrow on the horizon, the weight of the scroll in her satchel, and the inevitable rendezvous with the Red Sentinel, only time would tell.
Chapter Fourteen
Sikras
SMOOTH TRAVELING SHOULD’VEeased Sikras’s nerves, and he was downright irritated that it didn’t. No fireballs had descended upon them, no sudden sleet storms, no summoned elementals, no acidic rain, no plagues of magically manifested flesh-eating bugs—nothing. Not a single sign that a spurned wizard was intent on punishing them for having stuffed a poltergeist into the bones of a beloved pet. By all accounts, that should’ve been cause for celebration.
Yet, when the collection of canvas tents, artfully camouflaged to blend in with the gray lifeless colors of a winter-ready forest came into view, Sikras’s chest tightened. The time between Benjamin’s promised safety at his side would bow out to uncertainty as he infiltrated the ranks of Vessik’s undead legion. As his boots sank into fresh snow, his stomach twisted like a snake trying to suffocate its dinner.
Armored Red Sentinels laid low, but from their positions in the dense trees, they could spy the tall wooden fence erected around the whole of Stow’s Peak. A still-standing sign welcomed travelers to the small village, but in opposition to the message it bore, the gates were closed, making any view of the inside impossible from the ground.
As the trio traipsed into the heart of the meager encampment, where sentinels busied themselves with card games and dice, Sikras reminisced over endless games of Rack and Ruin lost to Benjamin’s prowess. He could only hope his brother-in-law’s survival skills in boardgames extended to real life. “Let’s review the plan one more time, shall we?”
“Sikras.” Benjamin spun, his bony hands landing on Sikras’s shoulders. “It’s all we’ve talked about for the last thirty hours. I know the plan forward and backward. It isn’t exactly strategic warfare, is it?” He ticked the steps off on his fingers. “I infiltrate, I pose as another mindless undead, I get close enough to Vessik to do the stabby stab, and then scroll my way out of there with zero repercussions given that I’ve no heartbeats to count. It’s the perfect loophole.”
Sikras raked a hand through his hair and forced a smile. “Yes. Yeah. You’re right. It’ll be fine. You’ll be fine.”
“Honestly”—Benjamin nudged Sikras with his elbow—“I’m more worried about you doing something idiotic while I’m in there. If you suddenly find yourselves surrounded or something, no casting yourself to death, got it?”
