Chapter 181: Whitefall XXXVI

Chapter 181: Whitefall XXXVI

I wouldnt have traded the events of the last few hours for anything. But that satisfaction didnt diminish the fatigue that settled over me as I walked the castle grounds towards the dungeons, well-manicured halls and polished stone fading to dull, dingy grey.

The dark bags beneath Altens eyes likely matched my own as Sera tagged along behind us, whistling a chipper tune.

She gave the whistling a rest to pose a question. If its some abyssal god or some such, you think itll be weaker to fire or lightning?.

Its not an abyssal god. Alten glared at her. And if it is, I doubt well find its elemental weaknesses clearly outlined in a manual.

Cairn? Sera said. Do you hold the same opinion as your mongrel?

Woof.

I rubbed my eyes, trying to hide my discomfort with her presence. It wasnt rational. By any metric, it was far better to have Sera on my sideeven for a limited timethan to have her skulking in the shadows, full of bitterness and metastasizing anger. But having the sister who once gutted me at my back wasnt doing anything for my peace of mind. I couldnt help but go through the mental calculations of how much easier it would be for her to slide a knife into my ribs here than before, when there was at least a chance that Alten would see it coming.Visit no(v)eLb(i)n.com for the best novel reading experience

At this range, if she was fast enoughwhich she wasneither of us would see it coming. That fact remained unpleasantly lodged in my mind as we walked through the less populated sections of the castle.

Cairn? Sera prompted.

Right. Uh. I wobbled a hand side to side noncommittally. Hard to say. In my experiencewhich keep in mind is still pretty limitedthe old stuff, demons, the beings and monsters that have been around for thousands of years have persisted as long as they have for a reason. Fire and lightning are both common offensive avenues of magic

I caught a glimpse of Seras expression darkening over my shoulder.

As was dantalion flame, until relatively recently. I finished the thought, and she seemed to take that in stride, happier now that there was solidarity in our theoretical impotence. And since magic itself used to be more unified before it was divided into elements? If the worst case comes to pass and we find ourselves up against an abyssal god, theres a real possibility that it has no weaknesses whatsoever. And if it does, theres no guarantee that those weaknesses are avenues of magic available to us today. All Im saying is if that is whats happening, prevention is our highest priority.

Who pissed in his eggs? Alten grumbled.

Probably the favored dog, Sera said. But she was lost in thought, the jab little more than a throwaway. As much as I hate to say this, maybe its a good thing this is happening here.

Because if it does, it will catch your entire family and city in the crossfire? Alten asked dryly.

Because this is the domain of King Valen, Sera groused back. Any inquest here is met with vindictive fury. Hell far be more proactive if the threat is real.

Uh-huh. And you really think your daddy poses any degree of threat to a god? Alten poked at her.

Yes, we said simultaneously. It wasnt hyperbole or blind, nave faith. The level of mythos King Gil had accumulated during his lifetime was astronomical. Some of it was embellished for certain, and there were more than a few outright lies floating around that he allowed to proliferate, simply because they aided his image. But there was simply far too much for all of it to be bullshit. Id been up against some of the worst Silodan had on offer and survived. Yet my accomplishments were still only a fraction of what hed achieved.

That incongruity was starting to bother me. I had two elements to my name, a high-ranking noble title, and a power that let me redo key moments should the worst occur. But it wasnt like I was breezing through. If anything, the opposition I faced was overwhelming at best, insurmountable at worst.

King Gilalbeit an excellent strategist and one of the finest martial fighters on the continent, if not the worldshould have still faced the limitation of being a man without magic in a land rife with it. Instead, he seemed to share none of my experience. He strutted about the kingdom, making little attempt to sidestep trouble, spitting in the eye of anyone who looked at him funny. And when they came for him, which they always did, he never lost.

I realizedto my irritationthat in our current situation, where multiple non-humans were disappearing in a domain under Gils direct control, his name hadnt even come to mindand it absolutely should have.

The method was absolutely in his wheelhouse.

The end of the slave trade would have served as a solid opening move. It was controversial, but more importantly unexpected, a combination that ensured word would travel quickly. After that, it was as simple as opening Whitefalls door to more than just humans. Instead of having to seek them out or mobilizing a section of the military to pick a handful of nonhumans from small villages, they would come to him. The bizarre cleanness of the disappearances wasnt even a point against. If anything, it implied Thaddeuss influence in the matter, and if my father was using Whitefall as a honey trap, hed be willing to cede his typical bombast for the sake of strategy, something hed done many times before.

He was certainly capable.

But a motive eluded me. He simply didnt have a reason. Even if his recent pragmatic shift was a facade, and the breadth of his hatred was alive and well, the abductions seemed almost random. According to Kilvius, no high standing members of the infernal or elven communities had been taken, and if the intent was to erode nonhuman influence in Whitefall, they would be among the first to vanish. As it was, the idea of abducting at random simply because he didnt like them didnt track either.

The timing made even less sense.

King Gil could appear patient. On rare occasions, he could actually wait for surprisingly long periods of time if there was an advantage to be gleaned. If this was his intent from the beginning, though, I could see him waiting a year after opening the doors at most. Kilvius seemed confident the abductions had started over the last few months. Which meant hed have waited far longer than my most generous estimate.

When I considered it from all angles, it just wasnt viable.

The most likely scenario was still some infestation of unknown creatures. Made even more probable by the possibility that Thoth had pulled some unseen string in the background to bring this to pass, just as she had done with the demonic legions in the enclave.

Still, it should have been the first thing I thought of. And I didnt like how the possibility just didnt come to mind.

It meant that sometime between our initial clash, the conflict with the drephin, and my return, my feelings towards him had shifted. And that change may have started long before that. During our separation, Id come to understand the way he thought. The reasons for the horrible and nauseating actions he took, which I once interpreted as nothing more than cruelty. He was still a monster in my mind. Just not a senseless one.

Do you know where that confidence comes from? I asked, unable to completely soften the edge in my voice.

Experience.

I shook my head. They dont even start by asking you questions. They start with pain. Not a lot. Just enough that you feel helpless, scared. Then theyll ask a question, and eventually, youll answer. Doesnt matter how brave, loyal, or downright stubborn you think you are. Eventually, you answer. But even if they believe you, it wont matter. Theyll keep hurting you, just to make sure there isnt some tiny, crucial detail you held back out of spite. And gods help you if you dont have what they want, because they can drag this out for weeks, drawing false meaning from a hundred different variations of I-dont-know-please-stop, calibrating their cruelty, honing in on the methods you fear most until you break. Go catatonic. But the real bastards? The fuckers who turn this barbarism into an art form? They keep going, because they know theres a chance youre one of the rare few. Liars who can convince themselves the lie is reality, repeating it over and over until they themselves believe it, locking the truth away. They work on you at a slower tempo until your mind wraps back around, patches itself back together out of sheer desperation. And then they start anew.

I glanced at her. Lets say you were sent somewhere as an envoy bearing no ill will, and instead of greeting you properly they took you captive, put you through that, then once they finally realized their error, set you free. What is your first point of order when the chains come off?

Sera didnt hesitate. Id kill them all.

Exactly.

I picked up the pace, hoping we could finally leave the topic behind.

Cairn, Sera called after me, her voice unsure. How could you possibly know that?

Alten, silent up to this point, groaned and turned to Sera. His voice was almost too low to hear. Look at him and guess.

I wiped the sweat, beading on my brow. Lets get moving. The sooner we find our drephin, the sooner we can get out of here.

There were a few cloaked figures milling about the more open areas of the dungeon. They looked over their shoulders and whispered to each other. Unlike the castle staff, the torturers and interrogators were a cloistered bunch, with little interest in the sudden appearance of nobles in their midst.

I spotted a large Terragorian man in a nearby room eating a leg of lamb, a rack positioned horizontally at his table, the wooden surface still stained with months-old blood. I knew who he was on reputation alone. If there was a human torturer who could match the demons, there was no question in my mind it was Jion.

Jion stood, towering over the rack, still gripping the leg of lamb like a club, his face ensconced in shadow. Then his mouth split, revealing white glimmering teeth in a wide smile. Welcome, Prince Cairn.

How the hell did he know me?

Greetings, Jion. Sorry to interrupt your meal.

He waved my token regret away. No trouble, no trouble. His accent was thick, and he spoke slowly, as if he didnt speak the language often. Before I could say more he closed the distance enveloping my hand in his fist and shook my entire arm, jarring me with a handshake. He leaned in as if we were old friends. Ive heard you can generate a flame hot enough to sear flesh from bone? And that you immolated a drephin from the inside out?

I winced and fought the urge to yank my hand away. Yes, to the first. To the second, she was going to give away my position, and I had no other method for silencing her in time.

Jion nodded vigorously, dark strands of grease-clumped hair falling before his eyes. Practical and inventive.

Guessing our drephin friend gave you the broad strokes? I asked dryly.

His face turned regretful. Unfortunately for us both, the shaman is off-limits for anything too ruinous. But besides him, the cells are full. His eyebrow rose suggestively. Id love to see your work.

A wave of nausea rose in my chest as I realized what he was implying. Id picked a terrible moment to confide in Sera, and as a result the memories of my experience at the hands of the demons was still fresh in my mind. Almost entirely unbidden, I felt the magical pathways inscribed into my arm begin to fire.

Jion, was it? Sera called from behind me. There are matters that must be attended. We are not here to coddle your fancy.

Seras interruption gave me enough time to collect myself, allowing my surging mana to settle. But the shift in Jion was almost instantaneous. His almost childlike enthusiasm disappeared, and he stared at Sera in something approaching abject hate.

I gently pulled his attention back to me. We need to speak to the drephin shaman. Its urgent.

He still seemed disturbingly enamored of me, but Seras interjection had placed him on guard. As much as I wish to accommodate, I cannot. Hes in lockdown. Completely isolated. No ones allowed to speak with him, other than me and a handful of others. On order of the King.

I gestured for him to lean closer. Theres word of a drephin plot.

What sort of plot? Jion blinked.

To rescue the shaman, I said conspiratorially, looking over my shoulder. Theres no need to speak with him directly. All we need is to confirm hes still where hes supposed to be.

Now, it was a question of priorities. If Jion held the same dogmatic level of loyalty to the crown as many in the castleor if he was in on the disappearancehe would probably stonewall, putting many bureaucratic barriers between us and our elven guest. If he didnt, or his fixation on me consisted of more than simple fascination, then we were in luck.

It only took him a minute to decide.

Come with me. His eyes flicked to Sera and his mouth turned downward. And dont touch nothing.