If not for the tight chains securing me to the stone wall, I would have snatched the scrawny man up by his thin throat. Two just like him had to fall before they removed enough links to keep me from reaching another guard.

  “Stevyn the Brute.” He grinned, exposing a mouth full of blackened teeth. “That is what they called you during the war, isn’t it.” He stepped closer but stayed out of range. “Big hero you were, sweeping across the battlefield. Dropping bodies with your war hammer as you moved.” He paused while rubbing a grimy hand against his already sod-stained face. “Did they call you the brute because of the number of corpses left in your wake, or because you wielded the ridiculous weapon you pried from a dvergr’s lifeless hands?” He raised his eyebrows. “No doubt after stabbing him in the back.”

  I wanted even more to get ahold of the small, foolish man. The dvergr he mentioned fought beside me, saving my hide on several occasions. He fell in battle, but clung to life for two nights after. When his life was fading away, he asked me to take as many enemies as I could with the hammer he crafted himself.

  “Kuka!” A deep voice behind him rang out. “Perhaps I’ll remove his chains and lock the two of you in that cage.” He huffed, “You might do well remembering that is a knight you speak to.”

  I recognized the voice, but couldn’t think of a name, or a face for that matter. I knew not how many winters I spent in this hole, but much of the world outside faded from my memory. Instead, as I squinted through the dim torchlight of a windowless prison, my nights were filled with torment and my mind consumed with thoughts of the revenge I would one day have.

  Kuka, a scrawny man whose name I would soon forget, scurried out of the cell. Closing the bars behind him. He avoided looking directly at the man with the deep voice.

  “Is it you who will torture me this night?” I asked.

  He stepped forward and grabbed the bars with both hands. The dull light from the torch illuminated a sliver of his face. Not much, but enough to jog my memory. Tilman, third son of the king himself.

  “Forgive me for not dropping to a knee.” I held up my hands, showing the chains that prevented me from sitting or lying. My tired muscles throbbed as fresh blood from my rapidly beating heart flowed into them. This was a yaksha I once served with my oversized war hammer. His life would have ended if not for my quick action on several occasions. “Do you come to put me down like a dog?”

  “Is that what you want, my old friend.”

  Friend? I wanted to grab him by the face and make him eat those words. He had stood next to me on the night of my arrest. The man who just called me friend let them take me without so much as a single word in my defense. Nor an explanation why I was whisked away to such a dark and deep dungeon. Instead, for what seemed like a lifetime, my tormentors asked me the same questions and cut into me when I failed to produce an answer they liked. Above all else, and for reasons I had yet to understand, they wanted me to admit to being a Void Wigon. No matter how many times they besmirched my honor, I refused to admit something untrue. “I want nothing from you.”

  “After half a winter locked in a cell, you want for more?”

  His words somehow stung me more than any salted blade had managed. Half a winter. Could so little time have passed? I would have sworn five winters at least. How long would the rest of my miserable life feel? Or was he here to finally end it?

  “You aren’t a Void Wigon.” He paced outside the cell, hands clasped behind his back. “I made a wager with my father after you were arrested, telling him the same.”

  “Nice to know my misery helped to line your pockets.” I glared at him. “I don’t suppose you came to free me.”

  “And if I did.” He grinned. “What would you do with your freedom?”

  “Kiss my wife. Hold my baby for the first time.” I pulled on my chains. “My little one was still in her belly when your men dragged me to this hell.”

  “I was hesitant to make a bet you know.” He pressed his finger against his lips, as if trying to think of what to say next. “For if you were no Void Wigon, then you certainly weren’t the clever knight I once thought you were.” He slammed his hands against the metal bars. “Tell me, Stevyn. How can one so shrewd in battle not know that his wife and brother are both Void Wigon?”

  “Accusing me wasn’t enough?” My hands folded into fists. “Now you spread lies about my family.”

  “Your wife and brother fled the day you were arrested. They escaped using forbidden magic. Magic conjured using the blood of yaksha and the parts of intelligent beasts.” He locked eyes with me. “They could no longer deny after their demonstration.” He slammed his hands on the bars again. “So, tell me, Stevyn, did you know they were Void Wigon, or were you ignorant of the woman you claimed to love and the brother who you grew up beside.”

  My body went limp. Before the war, I had seen signs that made me think they were questioning their faith. I feared they were being seduced by the false promises of Nasar Wigon. But I would never have considered them to be practitioners of something as vile as Void Wigon. I knew the prince well enough to realize he believed that which he said. Despite his certainty, I wasn’t ready to believe such things. “They both acted as True Blood Wigon in my presence.” I slowed my breathing, trying to control my temper. “Is that what this has been about?” I forced a chuckle. “After fighting for you on countless battlefields, you lock me up on suspicion?”

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  “If not for your service, you would have been executed on the spot.” He pointed his finger at me. “Do you think I came down to this disgusting place to hear your whining?” He scoffed. “I meant to offer you a chance at redemption, but if you are going to get an attitude, perhaps I shouldn’t have convinced my father you could still be useful.”

  I pushed what little remaining pride I had deep down. My concern wasn’t for my own well-being. Fighting on the front lines should have claimed my life several times already. But if they throw my wife and brother in a cell next to mine, what will happen to my only child? “Forgive me, Lord. Perhaps the lack of sleep has clouded my judgement.” As calmly as I could muster, I asked, “What of my Lirit and Mace?”

  “Are you asking whether they live, or if we caught them?”

  “Both. Either.”

  “They have managed to wiggle out of our grasp for the moment.” He glared at me. “Why do you ask?”

  “While I know your word to be honorable, I need to face them, and hear them tell me what is true.” This part wasn’t a lie. I wanted to peer into the eyes of my brother and ask if they practiced the dark arts behind my back. Despite knowing they wouldn’t, part of me needed to hear it from them. For if, on some remote chance, they were Void Wigon, they would have known what would happen to me if they were discovered.

  “Guards spotted them outside the wall near Kusi Vilca ten nights ago. Witnesses reported seeing them embrace.” He paused. “In a familiar manner.”

  I laughed. “Now I know you are playing a game with me. Lirit could hardly tolerate my brother for my sake. She constantly suggested I spend less time around Mace.”

  “She also claimed to be a True Blood Wigon.” Tilman clicked his tongue. “Perhaps the Void Wigon ways have poisoned her thinking. Perhaps it poisoned his. The question is, if you find out this all to be true, will you protect them?”

  The question wasn’t easy to answer. Until moments ago, I thought of them as the two most loyal yaksha in my life. But I knew the answer Tilman wanted. I understood what had to be said before the chains were removed. “If they survive my capture, I will turn them in.”

  “Wow.” His eyes widened. “That is the Stevyn I know. The brute who turned impossible odds on their head.” He grinned. “Are you ready to serve me once again?”

  I nodded, still not sure if I would grab him by his neck the moment an opportunity presented itself. The prince himself was no slouch on the battlefield, and he had the advantage of not being held captive for half a winter. But with the anger bubbling inside me, I thought I could rip him in two before he could reach for his sword. Judging by the arrogant expression on his face, he expected me to be grateful for his offering of what had been so cheaply taken away from me. “Now and always, my liege.”

  Tilman pulled a vial from a pouch on his waist. “I’ll need you to drink this.” He motioned to someone next to him, who I couldn’t see. Two knights moved out of the shadows and into the light. I recognized them both. Godfree the Harbinger and Bayard the Powerful. Even with my wrists and ankles chained to the stone wall, Prince Tilman was too afraid to face me without his two most obedient knights. They were the least likely to harbor any loyalty toward me, someone they once called brother.

  “What type of potion is that?” I asked.

  “You don’t trust me?” Prince Tilman forced a sarcastic expression of hurt. “There was a time I would command you to run into a burning building, and you’d do so without question.” He turned to his two knights, handing Godfree the potion. “Help him with this.”

  “I wonder why you didn’t give the glass vial to Bayard the Clumsy.” The moniker was used behind the knight’s back, and he knew it. Until this day, I don’t believe any had the courage to use it to his face.

  Godfree opened the metal gate and approached, grabbing my left arm. Bayard followed, punching me in the stomach before snatching my right arm.

  My body attempted to keel over, but the chains stopped my movement.

  Bayard grabbed my face and squeezed. From the amount of force, I was certain they had both drunk a potion of strength right before this encounter. Without a spell of my own, while chained and weakened over nights of torture, I’d be no match for one of them, let alone both.

  I opened my mouth and allowed them to pour the mystery potion down my throat.

  Both knights backed up.

  Bayard grinned at me. “I thought they said you were tough.”

  “And I thought you could afford regular baths. It’s pretty bad when your stink manages to turn my stomach down here.”

  He punched me directly in the nose. There was a quick flash of light, followed by darkness. I woke to Godfree smacking me in the face.

  “Can you just wake up.” He scoffed. “I don’t want to be down here all day.” He stepped back, nodding at the prince.

  Prince Tilman stepped forward, still outside the bars and well beyond reach. “A spell master attempted to discover a potion that would allow our knights to operate at night without worry of our blood freezing.” He grinned. “We tried this little concoction on a dozen soldiers before realizing its downside.”

  I inhaled slowly, wondering what poison he had fed me and why.

  “After drinking it, your blood does thin. You’ll feel the sting of the cold but not suffer death, even when exposed to the frigid air the entire night.”

  “Why do I feel like there is a ‘but’?”

  “But.” He grinned. “But, after seven nights your blood starts to thicken. Seven nights after that begins, it will become so thick that it will stop moving in your veins, even in the heat of day.”

  My hands balled into fists. “So you murdered me? Why not just use your sword.”

  “Calm down.” He waved a hand at me, as if I were being overdramatic. “We have created a second potion. This one resets the effect of the thinning. If you drink one before the fourteenth night, you will not die.” He pulled two vials from his pocket. “These will buy you enough time to get started.”

  I shook my head. “What am I starting?”

  “We have an infestation of Void Wigons in the empire. In the past, we would have yanked the problem out by the roots before it spread. But the evil bastards took advantage of the war. They’re embedded throughout Mallma.”

  “You want me to travel all of Mallma, hunting down Void Wigons, before I run out of potions?” I started doing the math, trying to figure out how many days I had.

  “You aren’t the only one with this assignment.” He shrugged. “Though, you are the first knight we involved.” He thought for a moment. “We arranged to stock potions at secure locations throughout Mallma. Every time you turn over a Void Wigon, or bring in his or her head, we will give you another two potions.”

  “So, if I fail, I die.” I grinned.

  “And if you turn against me and the throne, you die.” He motioned toward Godfree and Bayard. “Get him on his knees.”

  “With pleasure.” Bayard stepped forward, striking me in the stomach again. He grabbed my wrist and fumbled with the lock.

  Godfree grabbed my other arm and unlocked my shackle.

  I glanced at Godfree. “Bayard the Clumsy needs your assistance.”

  Bayard finally got the lock to disengage, freeing my wrist.

  They guided me to my knees. Tilman drew his sword and stepped forward.

  I bowed my head.

  Tilman touched each of my shoulders with his sword. “From this night, and until your last night, you’ll be known as Stevyn the Cursed. May you serve the kingdom and the realm with honor.”