Page 36 of Prince of Darkness and Deceit

No. I imagine not.

We weave through the streets of homes and businesses separating the southern shacks from the town square, heading toward the small cottage I share with Ferria when she decides not to spend her nights at the forge.

A broad figure steps out of the shadows.

A whoosh cuts through the air as the men around me swing their swords up in unison. Lev’s free hand drops to the dagger at his waist.

“Stand down, men.” General Ironheart moves into the lantern’s light.

My shoulders lower, as do the blades around me, but my relief is short-lived.

“Elara.” The general’s tone is frigid, non-negotiable. “Come with me.”

Lev stiffens. “Father, I⁠—”

“Disband, you fools,” the general barks. “Before I have you thrown into a cell for disobeying curfew.”

The men scatter like ants, none so much as daring to hesitate at their leader’s orders. The Elders may make the laws, but we all know General Ironheart, with his control of the army, runs this town.

Lev drops his hand from his dagger and rolls his shoulders back, facing his father with a clenched jaw.

I bite my lip and look between the two men, wishing for a way to avoid whatever is about to happen.

The general waits until the sound of the retreating footsteps no longer reach our ears before barking, “Come.”

He spins on his heel and strides into the darkness.

Lev and I share a look. The corners of his eyes tighten. I wonder if, like me, he is thinking of the last time his father turned his ire onto his son on my account—the day he skipped training to help me carry a wounded carpenter back to his home.

The image of the patterned bruises on sixteen-year-old Lev’s back flashes through my mind, and with it, my hatred for the man who put them there.

I lace my fingers through Lev’s, ignoring the shifting shadows around my wrist, and follow his father.

The meeting hall is a mess. Benches are overturned, several broken. The chaos from earlier… the cries, the screams… I hear it all in my head.

My heart hammers as I acknowledge that my neighbors’ terror tonight is but a fraction of what will come to pass if I don’t find some way to fulfill my deal.

General Ironheart strides down the middle aisle, kicking away obstacles with strength impressive for a man in his sixties as he leads us to the stage. Once again, the town’s five Elders sit on their chairs. Though they look far less imposing after what they endured earlier this evening.

Dark circles shadow each man’s eyes. Blood crusts the side of Elder Quarry’s face. Elder Whitestone’s robes are wrinkled. None have cleaned up after their confrontation with the powerful Fae. I bet they’ve been busy discussing how to handle this unprecedented threat to Verdanthia in the time I’ve been gone.

My feet falter when two men step out from the sides of the stage, sharpened swords glinting in the refreshed oil lanterns lining the edges of the hall.

Captain Stormsword and Captain Steelvice, General Ironheart’s number one and two, move to stand alongside the line of seated Elders. The men responsible for the bloodiest injuries I’ve ever tended turn their eyes on me, icy and merciless, before sinking their gazes to the dark bands etched into my skin.

A shudder wracks my body. Lev’s grip tightens.

“Miss Stonebloom,” Elder Whitestone’s aged voice breaks the tense quiet. “We are pleased to see you’ve returned to us…relatively unharmed.”

His gaze also drops to my arms, though I don’t sense violence from him like from the two captains.

I swallow. “Thank you, Elder Whitestone.”

“Well, girl.” Elder Quarry swiftly ends the social niceties.

The man who cowered before the Fae is gone. In his place is the arrogant man who once shaved his daughter’s head when she refused to marry the forty-year-old son of one of his closest friends. His daughter was only fifteen.

“Tell us what happened. Where did the Fae take you?”