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“Make sure you’rein your right mind now. And I shouldn’t need to say it, but the nature of our agreement must remain a secret.”
“Hm.” The hollow smirks. “You want me to lie to them?”
Arsene pins him with a glare. “I don’t know what kind of lawless court the King of Hell runs, but in this deal you do as I say and don’t ask questions.”
Nur narrows his eyes. “Fine! I know what’s on the line. It’s day three and I want my payment.”
“You’ll get it later.” He turns away.
“Why do you need their trust, anyway? If they’re so weak, can’t you just take whatever you need?”
“It’s not that easy,” Arsene mutters.
He’d asked the same when the Council briefed him. The lost human city lies in the middle of the Deadlands where the borders of three realms overlap—Earth, Hell, and the lost realm of Old Yden. Angels can navigate the wastes without a problem, but where the realms merge, his kind are dazzled by the stars of their former home and lose their way. Human maps become useless.
If that wasn’t the case, he’d have left the caravan behind long ago.
At edgeof camp a familiar figure emerges from between the tents. Her mouth twists into a frown at the sight of him. Myra isthe unequivocal leader of the caravan, though on the surface she looks like any other human—straight dark hair pulled into a practical tie, plain clothing battered by the journey. The caravan is run by committee, officially, but Myra is the one they listen to.
She’s made her dislike of New Yden—and therefore Arsene—clear from the start. But for the sake of the mission, Arsene still needs to play nice.
“Follow my lead. The humans have a very complex social system,” Arsene mutters to Nur.
“Angel,” Myra greets him, her gaze flicking between him and Nur. “You’ve returned.”
Arsene tries not to bristle at the clear disappointment in her tone. “I dispatched of the beast, and I met an ally in the mountain,” he lies. “I’ve enlisted him to help keep the caravan safe.”
“You were gone for days. I assumed you wouldn’t come back.”
“I had to be sure there no more. It…took longer than I expected to hunt it down.”
She frowns. “And you ran across this friend along the way?”
“Ally,” he corrects.
Myra gives Nur a once over. “He doesn’t look like much. The Council gave us you because you’re big as a house and twice as strong. How’s he going to help?”
“I’m stronger than I look,” Nur interjects. To Arsene’s horror, he grabs her hand and bows over it, lifting it to his lips.
Myra’s mouth twitches. “Then you won’t mind digging latrines.”
“Digging what?”
The twitch becomes a full blown chuckle, and Arsene is horrified twice over. “You’ll find out. What’s your name?”
“Call me Nur,” he says, recovering smoothly.
“Well, Nur, we’ll put you to work soon enough.”
As she leads them into camp, Nur leans in. “You dispatched the beast, did you?”
“Did I not?” Arsene snaps. “The beast was lucky not to suffer after killing one of the humans under my protection.”
Nur falls silent.
The camp is chaotic, as always. There are barely more than two dozen humans in the caravan, but their inefficient work makes them seem numerous as they hurry to and fro, one carrying wood, two setting up a single tent, another two feeding the dogs. New Yden’s military camps are run with precision. It makes Arsene itch to impose order.
“Josi told me you need the doctor,” Myra says from ahead. “There’s blood on you.”
