Movement in the darkness nearby. Laryn crawled across the ground, searching for the queen’s bed. She screamed.

  Good. Still alive then.

  If these were pale assassins, they could be invisible. That didn’t matter in the darkness. Laryn’s ears pricked. How many of them might there be here? To quickly and quietly kill the guards outside, there had to be multiple. Three? Five?

  Laryn reached the foot of the bed. Zaremba’s scream had turned into a panicked breathing. Laryn had stopped shouting. Could goblins locate him by their sense of smell? They must know he was in the room.

  A crash from the far end of the room, an upset platter of some kind.

  He’d ruined their plan; and now they circled, looking for an opening. He was as invisible as them, here in the darkness. He could fight them. But not while the princess was in danger.

  Laryn felt around in the darkness.

  “Laryn?” Zaremba asked. “Are you in here?”

  He didn’t speak. His hand found the thick pole which held up the tent. About as thick as his arm, it stretched up from the ground to the peak of the roof.

  This was the way to get the princess out safely.

  The grunt of a goblin nearby raised the hair on the back of his neck. He stabbed his sword into the darkness in the direction of the sound, and felt the tip of his sword hit resistance.

  A pained gasp. He pulled his sword back and pulled it up over his head. Stone stance, for strong, powerful, cutting blows.

  With one mighty strike, he cut clean through the central tent post. Canvas rippled overhead, and the tent collapsed down on them.

  “Zaremba!” Laryn hissed, searching for the princess.

  “Here!”

  He found her in the darkness, and cut his way out of the tent. Emerging into the dim light of the early morning, he pulled Zaremba through.

  They were contained in a bowl of canvas, the collapsed portion of the tent in the center where they stood surrounded by the ancillary chambers on all sides. Four shapes beneath the canvas struggled.

  Laryn walked to the nearest one and ran it through with his sword. It collapsed to the ground. The next was likewise dispatched.

  As he moved on to the third, a shining blade pierced the fabric, and a pale assassin scrabbled through the rent in the fabric. The moment the creature saw Laryn, it disappeared.

  “Stay close,” Laryn said, moving to Zaremba.

  Footprints pressed into the soft folds of the canvas. Laryn tracked them out of the corner of his eye, as the remaining assassin escaped the tent and also disappeared.

  They moved to the sides, seemingly aiming to get behind Laryn.

  He shifted, trying to keep himself between the princess and her assailants without letting them know that he knew where they were.

  The ruse worked, and one of the assassins darted in to attack the princess. Laryn brought his blade around and thrust the tip of it forward, skewering the creature. It instantly appeared, dropping dead at Laryn’s feet.

  He ripped his blade free and charged after the remaining assassin. No longer worried about the princess being crept up on.

  Laryn’s blade flashed in the silvery morning twilight. The two shallow imprints on the ground of the pale assassin’s feet vanished as the creature ran.

  It scrambled away from Laryn. The tent shook and rocked as the invisible assassin tried to climb up and out of the makeshift arena, escaping Laryn’s vicious sword.

  Laryn wasn’t fast enough to catch it, but he tracked the creature’s imprints as it climbed away over the tent. He released an elemental [Dart], which caught the assassin.

  The pale goblin turned visible as it cartwheeled through the air, falling to the ground beyond the tent.

  Laryn turned back to Zaremba, who sat in the middle of her ruined tent, looking dazed.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. “Did they hurt you?”

  She shook her head. “I’m fine,” she said.

  Outside, beyond the rim of the tent, a commotion brewed.

  “Thank you,” Zaremba said. “For rescuing me. For a moment I thought you had slipped into my chambers to kill me.”

  “Why would I do that?” Laryn said, scoffing.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  “It’s not as uncommon as you’d think, growing up in a goblin royal family.”

  “Who sent them?”

  “Gariz,” Zaremba said. “The new ruler of Grekhol. He became the ruler when Grimby died, and will hold that position temporarily until the new most symmetrical one can be found. It will probably be my niece, Karex.”

  “Grimby’s daughter?”

  “One of them.”

  “Will he send more assassins?”

  “He will. When this lot doesn’t return. It’s part of his duty, as head of the queen’s guard, to kill me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because they’ll be certain I planned that attack, and designed to kill Grimby. I’m an outlaw, now, and must be dealt with. This is why I must march on Fort Envin. Without the ability to create mages, I will struggle to detect the pale assassins.”

  “How do they turn invisible? It’s a spell?”

  “Yes. It’s an ancient module connected to our core, and it grants them the ability to mask their visibility and their scent entirely.”

  “But not their sound.”

  “There might be a module with a spell for that, too. But they don’t have it.”

  “So what I detected… I sensed something magical?”

  “Probably when they activated the spell. With the right affinity level, you can sense that kind of thing if you’re close enough.”

  “You need mages around you, to give you a better chance of defending yourself and detecting pale assassins,” Laryn said. “I understand why you’re desperate to attach to a core.”

  “Without one, I’ll never be able to defend myself. They’ll take me, eventually.”

  Laryn scratched his head. An idea formed in the back of his mind, but he needed to consider it more before he blurted it out.

  Movement from the collapsed canvas of the tent drew their attention.

  “Zaremba? Zaremba?” It was Lobix, searching for a way through to his charge.

  “I’m here, Lobix,” Zaremba said. “I’m safe.”

  Laryn crossed to the place where Lobix’s form batted at the collapsed canvas.

  “Step back,” he ordered, and cut a hole into the tent. Lobix passed through, and surveyed the scene. The pale assassin lying dead nearby. The bloodied lumps of other dispatched assassins.

  The unkempt, wild beauty of his princess, standing tall amid the devastation as the sky streaked with orange light overhead.

  Laryn also found himself staring at the diminutive woman, her pale eyes shining in her dark skinned face. She held herself defiantly, lit by the rising sun. Black hair waved in the wind, and her nightgown draped thinly over the curves of her body. Laryn decided that the goblin was beautiful; filled with a beauty decidedly separate from her vaunted symmetry.

  “Ahh,” Lobix breathed, all worry and concern expunged from his mind as he gazed on the scene. The loyal creature knelt, pressing his head to the ground. Laryn knew Lobix would remember this moment for the rest of his life.

  Morning wore on. Zaremba’s tent was repaired. Goblins bustled about. Scouts returned with messages.

  Laryn slept. There wasn’t anything else for him to do, until Zaremba discovered the voidbloom growing at the pass. Then he’d make his next move.

  “You’re snoring,” Kenna said, prodding him with her foot.

  He started, wiping sleep from his eyes.

  “What? How long was I—”

  “Zaremba wants to talk,” she said. “I’m guessing she’s discovered the void at the pass.”

  “Okay,” Laryn said, climbing to his feet. He ducked out of the tent, into the sunlight. The sun still hung in the east; he’d only been asleep for a few hours.

  “Do you think she suspects?”

  “No way to know,” Kenna said. “I’ve been watching scouts come in though. I think she sent some south last night, too. Maybe she knows what Harrat’s up to.”

  Her mouth warped into a scowl as she said the name of her ex-husband.

  “Maybe.”

  “What are the chances we can get ahold of a spell like the pale assassins?” Kenna asked “I’d like to use it to sneak into Harrat’s tent and gut him.”

  “Woah. Feeling bloodthirsty this morning?”

  “I’m just tired,” Kenna said.

  “Remind me to not wake you up in the middle of the night again.”

  In Zaremba’s tent, they met the princess in one of the side chambers while work went on repairing the damage that had been done.

  The princess had clearly been crying. She did not draw attention to her red eyes or streaked cheeks though, and Laryn thought it a faux pas to comment.

  “My scouts tell me that something happened overnight at the Townshold Pass,” Zaremba said. “A voidbloom erupted from nearby caves and overran the road there.”

  “Ah,” Laryn said, doing his best to seem surprised.

  “This morning, when you detected the presence of pale assassins in my tent, what were you doing?”

  “Just out for a morning stroll,” Laryn said, and Kenna nodded her agreement.

  “Fine,” Zaremba said. “If you say so. I’m receiving reports that Harrat has established a forward base to the south. He’s recalled all his scouts and has a significant force.”

  “About a banner of men,” Laryn said. “That’s what he had in the region.”

  “Yes. He does not seem to be moving north to deal with the issue at the pass.”

  “Has he detected your movements yet?”

  “Unclear, but he will soon. He’s captured some of our scouts, I’m sure. They tell me that he’s in an aggressive posture, and are preparing mobile attack structures.”

  “Bridges,” Laryn said. “They’re going for Vallor. And I’ve significantly reduced the level of influence there… It’s going to be a slaughter. He’ll take my core, and then deal with the void bloom blocking the pass.”

  “My force is sufficient to clear a single void bloom,” Zaremba said. “But I’m concerned about being delayed and pinned. If Harrat gets word that we’re attempting to reach the top of the plateau, we’ll be crushed like a nut on an anvil.”

  Laryn ducked his head, covering his face. He couldn’t hold back his smile. His ploy had worked.

  “So you agree that we have to deal with Harrat’s field army before we can march on Fort Envin?”

  “My advisors suggest an alternative,” Zaremba said. “Those who survived the night, that is.” She stared sorrowfully off into the distance. “Without a viable path to quickly obtain a core, the best thing to do is place as much distance between Grekhol and myself as possible, to delay the coming of additional assassins. We’ll move on to the west.”

  “No,” Kenna gasped.

  “You can’t do that,” Laryn said. “I thought you were afraid of the power that Harrat might gain in the region? If he claims my core, he’ll be that much stronger!”

  “I was afraid of that when I thought that I would be fighting from Grekhol, with a chance to ascend to the throne there. Now the only thing that matters is preserving my life long enough to fight another day. Besides, men come to the region, build kingdoms, and then leave, returning home once they’ve had their fill. The goblins will drive him out eventually.”

  “You don’t believe that,” Laryn said, and he saw in her eyes that he was right.

  “What other choice do I have?” she demanded.

  “Stay and fight. I’ll be your personal body guard. Kenna and I both have a magical affinity, we’ll keep watch and defend you.”

  “While I wouldn’t mind keeping you close to me. It’s not enough,” Zaremba said, tapping her fingers on the table. “It was a lucky fluke that you sensed them last night. I need more mages. I need my own magical affinity.”

  Laryn nodded, slowly. The idea that had come to him earlier came back to his mind. It was worth an offer, he supposed.

  “I have a [Mage] class in my kingdom,” he said. “Kenna is one of them. At the current size of the kingdom, I can designate five, but I only have four. If you join my kingdom, I can make you a [Mage].”