“But it doesn’t have to be hostile.” Caspian turned to me with an easy smile. “Everyone in camp knows I’m a friendly guy. I like to cuddle.”
The demon inside me perked up, as if it wanted to cuddle, too.
“What’s your association with the White Witch?” Drakken leaned forward, his voice dropping low. The shift was deliberate, like drawing a blade instead of swinging a hammer.
“My association with the White Witch is forced labor in the toughest mining district.” I bared my teeth, but I wasn’t smiling. “I’m one of her numerous slaves.”
“Or youpretendto be a slave, but you’re actually a spy,” he sneered.
I looked at him blankly.
“A spy would be well-fed, wouldn’t they?” Caspian countered, while his peer kept grasping for creative ways to frame me, to force a confession.
“This warlock’s an excellent actor.” Drakken’s lip curled. “He’s been starving himself to keep up appearances.”
Rage charged through me.
Caspian groaned and ran a hand through his hair. “This madness has to stop, Drakken.”
“All of you have been eating out of his palm ever since you brought him in.” Drakken planted both fists on the table. “Even Aelindor has a soft spot for this warlock. I’m the only one immune to charms and spells. I’ve visited every outpost, every satellite town, but I’ve neverseen this Max fucking Morning.” He flicked two fingers at me like he was brushing away something foul. “No civilian could survive crossing the Scorched Wastes.”
“There’s always an exception.” Caspian shrugged. “Besides, we got to Max before the mutants did.”
“How convenient.” Drakken’s smile was sharp. “Try thinking with your bigger head, wolf.”
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just insult me in front of an audience.” Caspian’s green eyes narrowed. “Say it again and I’ll still punch you. Even if you are my brother.”
Drakken huffed. “Let’s break it down for your benefit. This prisoner claims to be a deserter from Crimson Ridge. How the fuck did he get past a large military base with a powerful force of witches, several heavily guarded outposts, and warded barbed-wire fences?” He slapped his large hand on the table for emphasis. The coffee cups rattled. “We tried to raid that mine seven times. Seven!”
My heart skipped. I’d heard about those raids. Missy had overheard the overseers talking and brought the whispers back to me with wide, hopeful eyes. We’d prayed they’d break through, prayed for the chaos so we could run.
No such luck.
It was no surprise the Zodiac Covenant had tried to take Crimson Ridge. Whoever controlled a Stormglass vein held the power.
But no one knew about Coldiron, the sentient metal. If the White Witch ever got wind of it, learned about my connection to it, she’d chain me to that mine for the rest of my life, or worse. Working fourteen hoursunderground, barely surfacing except to sleep in my mud hut, I’d stayed invisible. That was probably what the demon meant—Coldiron shrouded me.
The Zodiac Covenant sat on smaller mines that produced a fraction of what Crimson Ridge yielded, forcing them to rely on the black market. Raiders attacked caravans not for food but for charged Stormglass. Trading it was the hottest career anyone could have.
“We suffered a devastating loss,” Drakken paused.
For one unguarded moment, I saw something beneath his arrogance and hostility. A man who carried his dead like forever weight. The hatred in his eyes when he spoke of the White Witch was personal, carved into his bones. And he took it out on me because he thought I was one of hers.
“Even if we could breach the mine,” he continued, “the White Witch has a second military base on the west side, right outside the mining villages. Enemy reinforcements would arrive faster than we could retreat. That mine is her most heavily protected property outside the capital.”
Aelindor asked me about it too—how I’d gotten to the Scorched Wastes and what happened next.
“My friends and I escaped through a tunnel that runs beyond the military bases.” That was all I’d given them at my hearing.
Aelindor didn’t push. He met my distrust with strategic patience, letting it be. But the dragon wouldn’t let it go. And I’d never tell them I could command metal. Drakken had already accused me of bewitching people.
It isn’t bewitching, Max.The demon’s voice slid through my mind, thick with smugness.It’s more than that. It’s what you are.A pause.Do you know you have another name? Your birth name?
I didn’t want to know. To a degree, I was a coward. What if I was a witch? I already had a demon inside me, didn’t I?
The best course was denial. It had kept me safe since childhood. The creature could whisper, coax, mock, and seduce all it wanted. I wouldn’t give another inch.
No way would I let it completely possess me, take over. Over my dead body.
