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“They were all killed,” Graymont said.
“Including your daughter?”
“She alone was captured and taken away.”
“If all were slain and she was taken, how do you know these things?” asked Daemona, despite Harlin’s disapproving frown.
Graymont gestured to the wild-looking warrior. “Ghul Lykos can answer that.”
The fierce-looking man stepped forward, bowed to the king and addressed everyone present with a tale that Daemona understood, from his expression, had been repeated several times.
“I am Ghul Lykos, last of my house, and I will repeat the sorrowful tale. At the crux of the Black Forest and the Acheronian Swamp, where the rivers and vines turn dark, we were ambushed. I was scouting ahead, and that is the only reason my head was not taken along with the rest of Sykaryn’s warriors. The vampire knew we were coming, and though I tried to warn the princess to be wary, we were taken like lambs to the slaughter.” His voice almost cracked at the strain of repeating these horrific events, but he stood a little taller and finished with, “I have sworn to report these things to the king and recover his daughters no matter the peril I might find myself in. I will not fail a second time.”
“A second time?” asked Daemona, sharply.
“I was ready to throw my life away fighting Ghul Tark and his fiends to my last breath, but I knew Sykaryn wished me to report to her father.”
“How convenient,” said Daemona.
Ghul Lykos’s eyes flared in anger. Did they change colors? She could swear that the hair on the back of his hands became more visible, but the man restrained himself with a deep growl.
“That’s enough Daemona,” snapped Harlin. “He doesn’t answer to you, but to the King.”
King Graymont waited a moment for everyone to quiet. “So, it was a trap set for my daughter and her companions.” He let that linger for Daemona. She looked around expectantly for someone else to speak. King Graymont continued, “I understand you are very skilled at getting out of traps.”
Daemona smirked. “It’s not the same thing at all. I’m a thief, not a tactician.”
“I know,” said King Graymont, almost patronizingly. “This mission will be made with stealth over raw power. Your skills for avoiding trouble and traps will be most valuable for this endeavor. You will be responsible for keeping the others safe. Especially once you are able to get to Ghul Tark’s mansion. They need someone of your talent to avoid the dangers within.”
She looked to Harlin and then Ghul Lykos. “And what’s in this for me? Why should I risk life and limb for this lost princess?”
“I know the crimes you have committed, and I have supreme power vested in me to absolve you of them. I understand you have enough on record to put you in the dungeons for a very long time.”
“I must do this?” she asked hesitantly.
King Graymont nodded.
“And I will be wiped clean?”
“Yes, and you will keep it that way,” Harlin added.
“Accomplish your part of this mission for me, and you will always have a place in my court for your . . . unusual skills. You will not want for anything and, best of all, you will be doing the right thing,” said King Graymont, with a wink.
The wink only confused Daemona. There were still some things about royalty and honor she didn’t understand. “That hasn’t exactly been my way.”
“We can all change when we need too,” King Graymont answered.
“I’ll do it, but I won’t be ordered about like a green recruit,” she said, looking at Harlin.
“You’re all the best of the best. You will succeed. I know it,” King Graymont said, clapping his hands together. “But Harlin is in charge. This mission was his idea, and I know he has everyone’s best interests in mind.”
Daemona doubted that. “Who suggested me for this anyway?”
“Why, Harlin did of course. He has been telling me you are the best thief in the world for months now,” King Graymont said with a wry grin.
That surprised her. All this time that she knew Harlin was trailing after her, she never imagined that he held any admiration for her skills.
“When do we leave?”
