Eamon had no choice but to say yes to Dragomir.
He didn't want to, not at all. But Dragomir was not the kind of man who took no for an answer. Not when he had that smirk on his face. Not when he gave direct orders with that same arrogant tone. So Eamon forced himself to nod.
"I'll be there," he said quietly.
Dragomir simply grinned. His cloak shifted in the breeze as he turned around.
"Be at the town center before sunset," he said without looking back. "Make sure you're ready. This could be the night."
Then he walked away, his boots tapping against the cobbled street as the crowd around them parted for him like water around a rock.
Eamon watched him leave, his jaw tight. This wasn't good. Not good at all. If the killer really did show up tonight, and if Arthur was planning to fight him alone… then Arthur would be in danger. Real danger.
Eamon needed to warn him. Somehow.
He turned around and headed back to the inn. The streets were already beginning to quiet. People were closing their shops early. Windows were being shut. Doors locked. The town was already afraid, and Dragomir's announcement would only add to the tension.
Eamon reached the inn and climbed up the stairs. His boots made dull thuds against the wooden steps. When he entered his room, he found Helena sitting on the bed, polishing a dagger.
"We have a problem," he said.
She looked up. Her face was calm, but her eyes sharpened with concern.
"What now?" she asked.
Eamon sat on the chair across from her.
"Dragomir wants me to patrol with the town's forces tonight. He says this might be the night the killer appears."
Helena raised her eyebrows.
"What? Why does that overconfident idiot want your help?"
"I don't know," Eamon said. "I don't think he trusts the guards enough. Or maybe he's just trying to keep an eye on me. Either way, I couldn't say no."
Helena narrowed her eyes. She leaned back and folded her arms.
"So what now? What's the plan?"
"That's what I'm trying to figure out," Eamon said. "How do we catch the killer if I'm stuck patrolling all night?"
Helena stood up and started pacing the room.
"I can't think of anything, Eamon. Not when you'll be with the army. And I won't be allowed out either. They've restricted movements for everyone after dark."
Eamon nodded slowly.
"We need to let Arthur know. He's probably still planning to fight the killer. And if he does it alone… he might die."
Helena stopped pacing. She looked at Eamon, her face pale now.
"We have to let him know, Eamon. We can't let him walk into a death trap."
"There's a way," Eamon said after a pause. "But it's risky."
Helena looked at him.
"What is it?"
"I can send Skarn," he said. "With a note. Maybe he can find Arthur."
Helena blinked.
"You think Skarn can do this?"
Eamon turned his head. The little wolf pup was lying in a corner, playing with a worn leather strap.
"He's got a strong nose. Better than most dogs I've seen. If Arthur's in the forest, there's a good chance Skarn can find him. And even if he gets lost, I can still track him through our sacred bond. I'll know where he is."
Helena looked down at the pup. Her hands fidgeted at her sides.
"I don't know, Eamon. He's just a little thing. What if he gets hurt?"
"I know," Eamon said softly. "But we have no other choice."
Helena didn't speak for a moment. Then she nodded slowly.
Skarn, who had been lying quietly, lifted his head and padded over. He jumped into Helena's lap and looked up at Eamon.
"You heard the plan, right buddy?" Eamon said as he knelt beside him. "Will you do it?"
Skarn let out two sharp barks.
"Woof! Woof!"
Eamon smiled and scratched behind his ears.
"Good boy."
Helena sighed and picked up a piece of parchment from her side bag. She dipped a quill into the inkpot and looked at Eamon.
"What should I write?"
"Keep it simple. Just tell Arthur I'm stuck with Dragomir tonight. Tell him not to fight the killer alone. Ask him to wait. Tell him we'll come up with a plan together. And make sure he stays hidden."
Helena nodded and began writing quickly. When she was done, she rolled the note and tied it with a thin red string.
"Here," she said, handing it to Eamon. "It's ready."
Eamon tucked the note into a small pouch and fastened it to Skarn's collar.
"You got this, buddy," he whispered.
Skarn barked again.
Helena gently kissed the pup on his head.
"Be safe," she whispered.
Eamon stood up and grabbed his second sword. He wore both now. One on his hip. One strapped to his back. Then he took a deep breath.
"I better go. Dragomir will be waiting."
"Good luck," Helena said.
"Thanks…I'll need it," Eamon replied.
He stepped out of the inn and walked toward the town centre. The sun had dipped low in the sky. The golden light was fading, giving way to a heavy grey dusk.
When he reached the centre, a crowd had already gathered. Soldiers in iron armor. Adventurers in cloaks and leather. Town guards with spears and lanterns. Dragomir stood in the middle of it all, arms crossed, shouting orders.
Eamon slipped into the group of adventurers.
After a few minutes, Dragomir raised his voice.
"My fellow warriors," he said. "Tonight, we stand together. Tonight, we protect this town."
Everyone grew quiet.
"There's a chance," Dragomir continued, "that the killer vampire will strike again. We must be ready. We must be alert. This town has suffered enough. We will not lose another soul."
The crowd shouted as one.
"Yes, sir!"
Dragomir gave a sharp nod.
"You all know your positions. Go now. The sun is almost down. Take your posts."
The crowd dispersed. Soldiers marched toward the east. Guards moved to the south. Eamon was sent to the western part of town. He joined two other adventurers. One was a tall man with a scar across his nose. The other was a short woman with twin daggers on her belt.
The western edge of town was quiet. Too quiet. Most homes had lights off. Doors locked. Even the tavern had closed early.
Eamon took position on the roof of a house and watched the streets from above. His eyes scanned every shadow. Every movement. But nothing stirred.
Meanwhile, Helena opened the back door of the inn and whispered to Skarn.
"Go now. Be careful."
Skarn dashed off into the shadows. He ran through the alleyways, tail low and body quick. He reached the town gate within minutes. Two guards stood there, chatting idly.
Skarn slowed down and trotted past them. The guards didn't even glance at him.
"Just a stray," one of them muttered.
Skarn kept moving. Once he was out of the town, he paused. The air was cool. The sky above was darkening. Stars began to peek through the clouds.
He sniffed the air. Then again. Then again. And he ran. Through the fields. Past the bushes. Along a narrow trail. His nose followed a scent he knew well. The scent of Arthur.
It took him some time. But he didn't stop. He ran through the thickets. He leapt over logs. He ignored the occasional howl in the distance.
And finally… he found it. A faint smell. Close. He darted toward it. His paws barely touched the ground. After a few more minutes, Skarn emerged through the brush and found a small clearing.
There, standing beneath the tall pine trees, with a small campfire crackling near him…Was Arthur.
Arthur looked up. His eyes widened in surprise. "Skarn?" he said.
Skarn barked and ran toward him.