The guards draw their swords. The metal sings. "Let him go immediately!" they roar. "Or we will cut off your arm!"
Kai, the demon, does not move. His red eyes fixate on the struggling man in his hand. His claws have dug slightly into the skin of the neck. A drop of blood runs down his forearm.
The crowd holds its breath. Violence hangs in the air like static electricity.
I watch Kai.
He is angry, yes. But he is not stupid. He is a scout, an envoy. If he kills this civilian now, their mission is failed before it has begun. He weighs it up. Pride against orders.
"Damn it, Kai!" the second demon hisses again. "Think of the Queen's command!"
Kai snorts contemptuously. With a jerky movement, he throws the man aside. Not gently. The human crashes against the wooden wall of a stall and lies there gasping.
"You humans," Kai growls, wiping the blood from his hand onto his pants. "You call us beasts, but you throw food while your own children starve."
He spits on the ground. "Let's go."
The guards look relieved, but they keep their swords raised. "Move!" they bark, driving the three demons through the gate into the inner ring.
The heavy iron gate falls shut behind them. The crowd begins to murmur again. The injured man is pulled up by others. Curses are spat against the demons and against Aeloria.
"My Lord," Orin whimpers beside me. He is shaking all over. "Please... that was too close. Can we go now? I did what you wanted. Think of the deal. Think of my granddaughter."
I turn to him. "You are right, Orin," I say.
He exhales in relief. "Thank God. Let us go back to the gardens and—"
"No," I interrupt him. "Not to the gardens."
I look at the castle gate behind which the demons disappeared. "We must go back into the castle. Immediately. Through the secret passage."
Orin stares at me uncomprehendingly. "But... we just got out! You wanted to see the city!"
"The plan has changed," I say, pulling my cap deeper over my face. "The show out here is over. The real play is happening inside."
I grab Orin's sleeve. "Those demons are about to talk to my father. And I will be there, damn it, and listen." I glare at him. "Run, Orin. If we are too slow and I miss the conversation, your granddaughter's chances of survival drop drastically."
Orin swallows. Fear for the little girl gives him strength. "Yes, My Lord," he gasps.
We turn and run back into the shadows of the alley, back to the hole in the wall that leads us home.
The real game starts now "Run, Orin."
We run.
The way back through the sewers and the dusty secret passages is torture. Orin wheezes like a dying horse. His face is red, sweat runs into his eyes. I breathe in a controlled manner. Two steps in, two steps out. My six-year-old body is not made for endurance, but my will forces the muscles to keep working.
"My Lord..." Orin gasps as we stumble up an endless spiral staircase. "I... I can't go on..."
"You can," I hiss without turning around. "Think of the girl. Think of the medicine."
He whimpers, but he speeds up. Fear is an excellent motivator. More efficient than hope.
We reach the end of the tunnel. A dead end. Only an old wooden wall in front of us. "The book," I say breathlessly. "Where is the peephole?"
Orin leans heavily against the wall, gasping for air. He points with a trembling finger at a knothole in the dark wood that is barely visible. "Behind that... is the fireplace... in the Lord's private study... When he receives guests not meant for the public... then there."
Perfect. I press my eye against the tiny hole. Darkness. But I hear voices. Muffled.
I close my eyes and concentrate on my hearing. Let the Mana flow into my ears. The world becomes louder. Sharper.
"So you are envoys of Queen Draelyss from Aeloria?"
Daemon's voice. Cold. Suspicious.
I open my eyes again. Press my face closer to the peephole. My vision clears.
Daemon sits behind his desk. The three demons stand before him. Guards flank the door.
Daemon examines the demons. "You do not look like royal messengers. Do you have proof?"
The demons produce the letter. The same one they showed the guards.
A dry laugh. "Look at this crumpled sheet. The seal is poorly painted. The handwriting is that of a peasant." He raises his hand. "Guards!"
The door flies open. A dozen heavily armed guards storm in, swords drawn. They surround the three demons.
Kai and the second demon flinch, panic flickering in their eyes. Their hands move toward their weapons. Only the leader remains completely calm. He stands there like a statue of gray rock.
"I haven't introduced myself yet," he says softly. He bows slightly. "Allow me: Azrhael of House Mael-rexar."
Daemon's eyebrow twitches. "House Rexar? If you came from that House," he says, eyes narrowing, "you would have the House symbol somewhere on your armor. Yet I do not see it."
"Because I was banished," Azrhael replies. "For a crime."
He raises his hand and shows the palm. There, branded into the gray skin, is a black symbol.
"The brand on your hand..." I don't speak the demon language fluently, but I believe... "In your language that says... thief."
"Well spotted," Azrhael praises. He sounds almost amused. "That is unfortunately true. It says: Thief."
"I see." Daemon stands up slowly. He leans his hands on the table. "So... the Queen sent three demons, although she could have sent a whole guard. And then she sends precisely a demon who was banished from his own clan and labeled a thief? Along with this poorly made letter?"
Daemon shakes his head. "Come on. Not even an idiot falls for that. Get out of my castle before I put your heads on spikes."
He signals the guards.
"You can trust us, Lord Daemon," Azrhael says without moving. His voice becomes quieter, more intimate. "Or should I say... King Daemon?"
Silence. Absolute, deadly silence.
Daemon freezes mid-motion. His face, which was mocking just moments ago, turns into a mask of ice.
"How do you know that?" he asks quietly.
"Well," Azrhael says into the room, "that must prove our innocence, mustn't it?"
Daemon deliberates. His jaw muscles work. "There are not many who know of it," he murmurs. "Only a few castle staff who have worked here for more than fifteen years."
I turn around to Orin like lightning. He is old. He has been here forever. Is that true?
Orin avoids my gaze. He presses his lips together—a trained reflex. A vow of silence. "I... I wasn't allowed to say anything, My Lord," he whispers, trembling. "The oath..." He tries to lie, but his eyes betray him. Too afraid of the punishment. I notice it immediately. Orin knows.
"Did you torture one of my servants?" Daemon asks.
"No." Azrhael shakes his head. "The Queen told me. The only one who knows that you are the Human King of the Kingdom of Aeloria."
A brief thought shoots through my head: Either he is a damn good liar... or the Queen is playing a much bigger game.
"Fine," Daemon says through gritted teeth. He waves to the guards. "Lower your swords. For now."
The guards hesitate, but then obey.
"What does the letter say?" Daemon asks.
Azrhael hands him the crumpled paper again.
Daemon reads. His forehead creases into deep wrinkles. When he is finished, he looks at the demons, his head still tilted toward the sheet.
"A war?" he asks incredulously. "Ten thousand demons are on their way to Aeloria to subjugate the land? And they need my help with a thousand men to save the kingdom from ruin?"
Daemon shakes his head. He throws the paper away. "What is written there is even more poorly done than the paper itself. I do not understand..."
"The Queen is desperate," the leader says innocently.
"If a war threatens to begin," Daemon explains sharply, "why does one not send ravens? Or hawks? Instead, three slow demons stroll in here?"
Azrhael opens his mouth, but Daemon continues talking, his voice growing louder.
"Then you bear no royal symbol. You are criminals. And she would never, under any circumstances, entrust a thief with a state mission."
Sching. Daemon draws his sword. The metal glints in the firelight. "This is a trap."
Tense silence fills the room.
Then the leader begins to smile. A wide, bared smile full of sharp teeth. "You know," Azrhael says softly. "The text... wasn't entirely a lie."
"So it is!" the guards shout and draw their swords.
"There really are ten thousand demons on the way," Azrhael continues. His smile widens. "Just not to Aeloria." He tilts his head. "But here."
Daemon explodes forward. His sword whistles through the air. Aiming for Azrhael's neck.
Azrhael catches the blade. With his bare hand.
Blood spurts. The blade cuts through his palm. But he holds it fast.
"It begins!" roars Azrhael.
Kai and the other demon move. Lightning fast. Two guards fall. Their throats slit. Blood sprays the walls. The other guards scream. Storm forward.
Kai and his partner rush to the door. Tear it open. Run out into the corridor.
"Damn it!" curses Daemon. His hand glows dark red. Special Magic. Bloodsteel grows from his skin, coats his sword, makes it broader, sharper, indestructible.
He pushes.
The blade penetrates through Azrhael's hand. Completely through.
Azrhael screams. Not in pain. In rage.
Daemon tries to run past him. Azrhael grabs him with the other hand. "You stay right here, King!" the demon roars.
With a massive jerk, he lifts Daemon off the floor and hurls him across the room. Stone explodes. The window frame shatters into a thousand pieces. Daemon is thrown backward into the void by the force of the impact.
I only see his body go limp as he falls. Blood sprays in the air.
Azrhael stands at the shredded window edge. He slowly wipes Daemon's blood from his face. Then he turns his head. Directly to the fireplace. Directly to the tiny knothole.
He grins. Not simply into the room. But at me.
My heart skips a beat. He sees me. He knows exactly that I am here.
Panic floods my body.
"We have to go, Orin!" I hiss and tear myself away from the peephole.
"What... what happened?" stammers Orin. His face is chalk white.
"No time for explanations!" I grab him by the arm. "You must alert all guards in all of Morhenhall immediately!"
"Guards? Why—"
"Because we are being attacked!"
I push him toward the tunnel exit. "Run! Fast! Ten thousand demons are on their way here!"
Orin's eyes widen. "Ten... ten thousand?!"
"RUN!"
He stumbles off. Disappears into the tunnel.
I stop. Breathe heavily. Why Morhenhall? We are a border town. Strategically important, yes. But why not attack Aeloria directly?
Then I understand.
Daemon. They know he is the King. If they kill him here, the human leadership falls. The realm is weakened. I clench my fists.
And we are right in the middle of it.
Outside—in the distance—I hear it. A horn. Deep. Long. Alarming. Then a second. And a third.
The castle awakens. Screams. Orders. The clanking of armor.
I turn around. Run to the tunnel exit. But then—a thought.
Aurora. Maelis. Eamon.
I stop. In the middle of the tunnel. They are in danger.
No, I should think of my own survival. Not them. Survive first. Then I can worry about them.
When I come out of the secret passage—the castle is already in turmoil. Servants run around. Guards storm through the corridors. Orders are bellowed.
I rip the cap from my head. Stuff it into a vase. Smooth my clothes. Then I step into the corridor.
"Kael!"
Maelis.
She runs toward me. Her face is pale. Terrified.
"Where were you?! I looked everywhere for you!"
"I... I was in my room," I lie. "What is going on?"
"We are being attacked!" Her voice trembles. "Demons. Thousands. They are on their way here."
She grabs my hand. Too tight. Painful.
"We have to get you to safety. Aurora and Eamon too. Come!"
She pulls me with her.
I allow it.
The game has begun.
And I have no idea how it will end.