Andreas accompanied Edric to rendezvous with one of his trusted contacts in the guard. Like shadows in the night, they moved through the city, careful of the added patrols on the streets until they arrived in an alleyway next to an eerily quiet pub. On most nights, lively music and animated conversation poured from the stone building. The propaganda against him and his team achieved the desired effects. They were proclaimed as people to be feared, to be counted among the rumors of darker things and moving shadows lurking at night, ready to seize innocent citizens. And Nighthelm’s uncharacteristic silence was evident of the fear the duchess and Winston placed in the people.

They waited a good while before a large man wearing guard armor stepped into the shadows of the alleyway.

“What’s the word, Malcolm?” Edric asked.

He looked deep into the dark behind Edric and said, “You’re either a brave man or a stupid one to be out on the streets this night.” He glanced toward the street as the sound of armor clanging together grew louder. Mere breaths later, two guards ran past the mouth of the alley. “It’s not safe for either of you. Your wanted posters are everywhere.”

“We need you to infiltrate the castle and find some information on the heirs. We need names, ages, and if possible, their last known whereabouts.”

Malcolm frowned. “The heirs? The heirs are dead. What good would that information be now?”

“We have reason to believe that the heirs are alive,” Edric said.

Malcolm shook his head. “Maybe they are. Maybe they aren’t. All I know is you and your people need to get out of Nighthelm. Fast.” He rubbed at the stubble on his pointed chin. He huffed and looked around again. Once he returned his gaze to Edric and Andreas, he leaned in closer and in a low voice said, “A massive hunt is being organized. One that makes the attack today look like a sparring match. Word is, Winston pulled strings to get Tryce Klatrix here to the city.”

Andreas rolled his eyes and groaned. He didn’t have to be a sorcerer or run in their circles to know who Tryce Klatrix was. His name preceded him as the best sorcerer of his time. Not only was he rumored to be powerful, but also ruthless. Andreas could only guess at what Ezekiel would do once he heard the news.

“Everyone within Nighthelm will come for you the moment Tryce arrives,” Malcolm said.

“When is he anticipated to arrive?” Edric asked.

Andreas saw the concern on Edric’s face. He probably knew more about Tryce than Andreas did, having been commander of the guard and privy to its strategic secrets.

“Within a week. Maybe less. You should be long gone by then.”

Edric nodded. Andreas felt the pit of his stomach clench. So soon. Somehow, they will have to find the heirs while on the run from the damning eyes of all of Nighthelm. Sophia would be disappointed for sure. There had to be a way to still restore the heirs and keep their heads, figuratively and literally.

Malcolm’s words interrupted Andreas’s thoughts. “I’ll try to get into the castle for you, but I don’t have access to the restricted sections since Winston doesn’t trust me.” Malcolm snorted. “Smartest thing that man has ever done.”

“Be careful,” Edric said. “Don’t do anything reckless on my behalf.”

“Oh, I’m always careful, friend. Although, knowing who to trust has grown increasingly difficult. Especially those within the ranks. Lots of men trying to save their own asses by turning on you. Marlow was particularly pleased to have a chance to take your place as commander.”

Edric shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “He always wanted my position. Never let me forget it either. Not very pleasant to be around.”

Malcolm snorted. “Yeah, even promising rank and title to whoever joins behind him.”

Andreas frowned, disgusted to hear about Edric’s own men betraying him, but he kept his mouth shut. It was a human trait he could never understand. Wraiths never turned on each other. Their brotherhood was for life.

Edric shook Malcolm’s hand. “Thank you, my friend.”

Malcolm then offered his hand to Andreas, who took it.

“If I find anything, I’ll send word,” Malcolm said. “But if I were you, I would abandon the fruitless quest to find the heirs and get out of Nighthelm before it’s too late.” He slunk out of the alleyway and out onto the street.

If anyone other than Sophia had been searching for the heirs, Andreas would also think their quest was fruitless. The truth was, they didn’t have a lead, and they had no idea how they would survive a trek into the mountain on a wild goose chase for the long-lost heirs. But Andreas believed in Sophia and the wisdom of the oracles. The heirs had to be alive if the oracles were trying to restore them to the throne with Sophia’s help.

Faith was a fickle thing, though. It meant believing in something without any evidence. Wraiths grew up with that kind of faith in the royal family. How many times had he been out in the Witch Woods to wait for a messenger from the mountain about the heirs? Too many to count. Andreas’s faith was now devoted to Sophia.

When they returned to the inn, Ezekiel already had new, stronger wards up and the air felt thick and heavy when they walked through the invisible wall. Andreas knew only they could enter because Ezekiel would’ve set the protections to allow him and Edric through. Otherwise, they probably would’ve walked right into a wall as hard and unyielding as stone.

Once inside, they found Ezekiel hard at work, cleaning up what the guards destroyed, and some of the guards themselves. Andreas didn’t even want to think about what he stepped on as he entered the room and was especially grateful that he found himself in Ezekiel’s good graces.

“Where’s Sophia?” Edric asked.

“Upstairs in a bath. I told her she needed to relax, if only for an hour.” Ezekiel barely looked up from his work as he continued to clean.

Andreas was surprised he’d been able to get Sophia to do that. He suspected if he snuck up the stairs to her room, she would most likely be swinging her sword, training to fight, instead of sitting in a hot bath.

“What did you find out?” Ezekiel asked, as he dipped a rag into the bucket of soapy water he was cleaning with.

“Tryce Klatrix is supposedly on his way to Nighthelm,” Andreas said.

Ezekiel wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt. “I wondered who they would pay to help them.”

“Do you know him?” Edric asked.

He nodded with a sigh. His head hung a bit lower as he seemed to stare at a spot in front of him. “I met him once, years ago, during my travels through the country.”

“And?” Edric asked.

“I was present when he skinned a siren alive with only his magic.” Ezekiel wiped his mouth again. He closed his eyes as a grim line sealed his lips. “Her screams still haunt me.”

“That’s barbaric,” Andreas said.

Ezekiel nodded. “The man has no compassion. I’m not even sure he has any humanity.”

“We need to head to the mountain,” Edric said. “As soon as possible.”

“I’ll need time to prepare some tonics to aid us inside the rock. I may need to risk a trip to my estate for some additional supplies. They’ll help keep some of the effects at bay, but if we are down there longer than a few days…” He shook his head, not needing to finish the sentence.

They had all heard stories about what happened to people inside the dark magical wilds of the mountain. Those who did manage to get out were never the same. Not only did their bodies wither away to skin and bone, but their minds deteriorated as well. No one had ever been able to fully communicate the truth of what lay inside the cold darkness.

Edric nodded. “We’ll deal with it when the time comes. We have to go, it’s the only way.”

They all knew the trip into the mountain was inevitable. That was where the heirs vanished, and Andreas was sure that was where they would find them again. In the meantime, they needed to pack up and move to another location before they were at this new sorcerer’s mercy. As it had been made clear, he didn’t have any.

“We need to move,” Andreas said.

Edric nodded. “I agree.”

“Where?” Ezekiel looked at Andreas. “Would your people take us in?”

Andreas opened his mouth to answer, but Edric spoke up instead. “We can’t hide in the Shade.” Edric dropped his gaze, away from Andreas. “The castle monitors the district.”

Andreas shook his head and started to pace the room. His breathing turned erratic. Of all the nights they had assumed there were eyes on them, there was. No matter what the king did or said, the duchess undid all the work the wraiths had done to prove themselves, and still, it didn’t make a difference. They would never be trusted so long as the duchess whispered words of fear among the populace.

“I knew it. I knew the duchess didn’t trust us.”

Edric held up his hands in surrender, a look of shame in his eyes. “I’m sorry, brother. I wish it wasn’t so.”

Andreas nodded, knowing full well it hadn’t been Edric’s decision. He had been following orders. Nothing more.

When the Averell monarchy had been in place, they were never monitored, never persecuted so severely. Trust had been there from the moment the king opened the gates to all the wraith people and allowed them to settle inside the city walls.

There was only one place they could go. And that was the mountain. No one would follow them inside. No one would be crazy enough to do so.

“How fast can you make your potions?” Andreas asked Ezekiel.

“He seemed to think about it for a moment then tapped his thumb against his fingers on one hand. “The soonest I can have the bare minimum prepared with no supply run is tomorrow evening. I can’t rush it quicker than that.”

“Good. Because we have to leave as soon as possible,” Andreas said.

Edric nodded. “Tomorrow night.”

There were nods of agreement all around.

“I’ll go tell Sophia,” Andreas said and turned on his heel to march upstairs to the bathing room. First, of course, he would stop by Sophia’s room and make sure she wasn’t in fact trying to sneak out or do something on her own.