Kavil counted to one hundred after Priscilla and Sulaiman left the room before going to the window. That should give them plenty of time to get to the dining room and initiate Priscilla’s plan.

  Thinking about what they were about to do made Kavil chuckle, a little disappointed he didn’t get to see it happen in person. But he’d have to settle for just imagining Sulaiman’s face as Priscilla pretended to be utterly infatuated with him.

  Kavil knew what Sulaiman had to be feeling, he had gone through the same thing just a few minutes ago. It was a little heady to have her focus entirely on you since Priscilla could be a little intense when something caught her attention, like she’d ignore the entire world because all she needed was right in front of her. Even though Kavil knew it was just an act, a ruse to pull the wool over the mayor’s eyes, it was a fact he had to keep reminding himself because of how sincere Priscilla seemed when she fluttered her eyelashes at him.

  Kavil thought he had a good idea of what expression might be stricken across Sulaiman’s face as Priscilla turned her singular focus to him.

  It’d probably be similar to the face that Sulaiman had made yesterday after Priscilla indirectly called him beautiful as if it was an accepted fact of life.

  Sulaiman had been stunned silent, whatever pointed comment about the rock he had prepared not passing his lips. Kavil watched, fascinated by what he saw, as Sulaiman opened and closed his mouth a few times while he stared at Priscilla with wide, shocked eyes. A steady, dark flush rose up on Sulaiman’s face during this time, chasing away his normal serious expression to leave just a young man who was flustered by a single compliment.

  Kavil had leaned in, sensing an opportunity.

  “I think you’re beautiful too,” Kavil had said in a low tone as it seemed Priscilla was utterly distracted since she hadn’t even looked up once. Sulaiman’s head snapped towards him and Kavil was pleased to see how Sulaiman’s blush deepened as his jaw dropped, utterly unable to come up with anything to say in response.

  Kavil had a sneaking suspicion that was the first time Sulaiman had ever been called beautiful and a dark part of Kavil was glad that he had been here, glad that he was able to elicit the same reaction Priscilla’s compliment did. Teasing Sulaiman was fun, especially when the other man reacted in unexpected ways Kavil could only call cute, and Kavil pushed as far as he dared until Priscilla came back to the real world.

  But that was enough of reminiscing, especially about such distracting topics like the beauty of his traveling companions.

  Kavil had to focus.

  His bag of herbs was tied tight on his belt and his hood was pulled down low, blocking Kavil’s face from sight. Kavil carefully lifted up the bottom of the window pane and straddled the windowsill, peeking over the edge. The back of the inn faced another home that seemed to be empty.

  There seemed to be plenty of handholds on the back of the inn from loose paneling and support beams. Really, the state of this town wasn’t that much better than Priscilla had complained about if they left their buildings in such a state of disrepair.

  Kavil slowly lowered himself down, trying to find a good footing before committing his full weight. He tried two out before finding one that would do the job.

  It was just like climbing a tree, Kavil thought to himself to help alleviate some of the anxiety that threatened to creep in, and I’ve done that a thousand times.

  It went well for all of two steps down before a piece of wood snapped underneath his food while he was in the middle of taking another step down.

  Kavil flailed for a moment, but luckily his grip held and he was able to jam his foot into another stable position.

  But he did end up hitting the wall with some force during his flailing.

  The impact reverberated through the wood above him and the window came crashing down, hard.

  He choked back a groan of despair, as the original plan had been for him to climb back in through the open window. Kavil tried to look on the brightside. At least it didn’t shatter and draw a bunch of people’s attention to his clandestine operation.

  Luckily, Kavil was able to make it the rest of the way down without any more slip ups, taking care to not make any more unnecessary noise and avoiding windows when he could.

  As Kavil’s feet touched the ground, he could hear Priscilla’s distinctive voice marveling at how strong Lala’s muscles were. Stifling a laugh, Kavil focused on walking quietly to the edge of the inn.

  The lack of streetlamps was horrible for trying to see what was going on, but Kavil let his eyes adjust to the low light, squinting into the darkness. He didn’t spot any of the villagers, so Kavil pulled his cloak tight around him and started to retrace their steps to the stables. Any time he heard a sound, Kavil went still to avoid detection, but the only other people out here at this time were focused on heading towards the inn.

  For a moment, Kavil worried for Sulaiman and Priscilla, but then he shook his head to banish such thoughts. Those two could take care of themselves – they didn’t need his unnecessary worries.

  Kavil finally made it to the stables, one of the few buildings that had light peeking around the edge of the doors. But before he could open the door, he heard the sharp smack of a fist hitting flesh and a horse let out an angry whinny.

  Then there were footsteps coming towards the door and Kavil hurried to duck around the corner of the stable, crouching down and putting a hand over his mouth to cover up his nervous breathing. He cursed his own weakness for not being strong enough to confront whoever was coming out, but they had a plan and Kavil had to stick to it, which meant he couldn’t get caught.

  The door burst open like it was kicked, light spilling out onto the street to show the shadow of a tall man.

  “Now stay there,” a man said, voice biting, “or else your son will be chosen next, Ulric, and the Collir line can die with you.”

  The man spit on the ground and then he slammed the door, stalking down the street.

  Kavil squinted, not quite placing the man from the back, at least not until he heard him mutter, “Damned bitch, treating me like a pack mule. Ordering me about like I was her slave.”

  The man spat again as he kicked the ground.

  Ah, that explained it then – this was the guy from earlier, and it seemed he had taken out his anger on poor Ulric. Kavil waited until he saw the man duck into another building, still grumbling, before hurrying to the stable door, quickly opening it and stepping inside.

  The first thing that Kavil noticed was the sound of pained breathing and the way Ulric jerked when he entered.

  Ulric was a right mess.

  Just looking at him, Kavil could see that the man’s leg was broken and his jaw was out of place, hanging in a way that looked painful. There was some swelling near Ulric’s eye that suggested there was something wrong with his cheekbone too, which would be difficult to deal with depending on how much damage had been done to it.

  Ulric had dragged him to the edge of the horse stall where his horse stayed, and the horse was trying to nuzzle his hair.

  Ulric tried to open his mouth as if he meant to speak but winced at the pain.

  “Shh,” Kavil whispered, coming to kneel next to Ulric.

  The other man looked confused by Kavil’s appearance, but there was a spark in his eyes that reminded Kavil of hope.

  “Daaut, daaut,” Ulric tried to say.

  “We’ll help save your daughter,” Kavil promised, knowing that Priscilla wouldn’t just let someone in need be ignored. Ulric relaxed and thankful tears started to pool in his eyes. “But first, please let me help you.”

  Ulric blinked, clearly confused until Kavil gathered his healing magic in his hands and then Ulric’s eyes went wide in shock.

  Kavil put his hand onto Ulric’s uninjured leg, closing his eyes as he pushed his magic into the other man to take stock of his injuries. The leg was definitely broken and the jaw dislocated, but it looked like his cheekbone had been shattered and there was a lot of bruising around his eyes. Kavil chewed his lips, considering his options.

  Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!

  When that many pieces of bones floated beneath someone’s skin, it took intense concentration to make sure they were all realigned correctly. It’d probably be best to start with the easiest to heal so that Kavil could focus without being worried about the other injuries.

  Kavil opened his eyes, moving his hand over the broken leg. If Ulric’s face wasn’t injured, he’d be able to give him some sort of painkiller or something to bite on.

  “This may hurt a bit,” Kavil whispered apologetically, “but it’ll be over soon.”

  Healing magic sank down into Ulric’s leg, curling around the bones and tendons. Moving steadily but not rashly, the bones shifted until they were aligned once more. Then Kavil sent a pulse of magic to encourage the bone to start to mend, knitting together as the muscle added itself around it layer by layer.

  Ulric gasped, his back arching, but he stayed quiet beside panting a few times in pain.

  Broken legs were easy to fix, especially such a clean break like this. Kavil had been healing broken limbs for years, so the entire healing process was done in a minute.

  “All done,” Kavil said, patting Ulric’s leg. “I’m gonna start on your face now, okay?’

  Ulric was staring at Kavil with unabashed worship. That look made Kavil a little embarrassed because he didn’t know if he deserved that, but Kavil pushed away those feelings. They weren’t useful right now and Kavil couldn’t afford to get distracted.

  “Sorry, this is going to hurt a lot more,” Kavil apologized, wishing that he had a painkiller that didn’t need to be ingested. He resolved to create a salve when he had time.

  Kavil placed both hands on the side of Ulric’s jaw as gently as he could, but Ulric still flinched. Kavil hadn’t done this before, but his aunt had taught him how, so Kavil pulled on those memories. He placed his thumbs on either side of Ulric’s mouth and his fingers under the man’s chin. From there, all Kavil had to do was gently push the jawbone back into the joint.

  The pop as it did so was one Kavil wouldn’t soon forget, neither was the ragged cry of relief that came from Ulric’s mouth. He flooded the joint with healing magic, checking to make sure it was realigned properly.

  Everything looked to be good, so Kavil closed his eyes, fingers skimming over Ulric’s right cheekbone.

  The bone had shattered into more than twenty pieces of various sizes, some of the shards digging deeper into delicate flesh. Anger flared in Kavil because the only way that could have happened was if the man from earlier had punched Ulric repeatedly after he had already broken the bone.

  But anger had no use when healing someone, so Kavil took a deep breath in and released his emotions as he exhaled.

  It was like a puzzle Kavil had to solve, finding each sliver of broken bone and slotting it back into its rightful place. It was a slow process as Kavil slowly canvassed Ulric’s face to ensure that Kavil didn’t miss anything.

  By the time Kavil was sure that Ulric’s cheekbone was back in one piece, he was sweating. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, which was bad since Sulaiman and Priscilla could only keep up the act for so long, but there was just one more thing to heal, which was Ulric’s black eye.

  Before Kavil could even wipe away his sweat, Ulric had grasped his hand.

  “Thank you, holy, one,” Ulric said reverently, “thank you, thank you.”

  “Ah, don’t call me that,” Kavil protested, feeling like a fraud. While he was a follower of Gaelea, Kavil had never been interested in becoming an actual priest to spread Her teachings. Kavil knew he lacked the devotion to Her to do the position justice, not in the way that it deserved.

  But you had wanted to be Her paladin, his mind reminded him, you even conducted the binding ceremony.

  Kavil chose to ignore that unhelpful voice – it wasn’t technically a ceremony, it was just a spur of the moment thing. All they did was share a cup of wine. Surely Gaelea wouldn’t count it if everyone wasn’t aware of what they were agreeing to.

  (Hopefully.)

  (If he had accidentally made Sulaiman and Priscilla paladins without them knowing…)

  (Kavil would have a lot of explaining to do.)

  Ulric hesitated before saying, “Then, thank you, Vivi.”

  The use of the fake pet name startled Kavil into laughter. He hadn’t actually had a nickname before because his name was so short, and strangely, Kavil liked it, though he knew he probably wouldn't hear it after they left this village.

  “Alright,” Kavil said, “I just have one more thing to heal and then I’d like to finish our conversation from earlier.”

  “As you wish,” Ulric said.

  Healing bruises was an easy fix, and soon Kavil sat across from a fully healed Ulric. The signs of malnutrition were still there, not much that Kavil could do about that. Theoretically it could be fixed, but Kavil had been warned not to try unless he had a lot of mana to spare and the victim was on the brink of death.

  “You mentioned a starving one, earlier,” Kavil said, going right for the topic he was most interested in. “Who or what is that?”

  Kavil really hoped Priscilla was wrong (though she hadn’t been wrong yet) because cannibalism was one of the cardinal sins, one that couldn’t be forgiven no matter the circumstances. To eat another’s flesh was to defile one’s soul beyond salvation.

  Ulric was clearly nervous by the way he shifted, but his horse had leaned out of the stall, nipping at his hair, which seemed to help calm him.

  “She appeared about, about a year ago now,” Ulric began, “in the middle of the night out of the fens, dressed in rags and unkempt hair. Someone called her… a, a witch and tried to run her off.”

  Ulric shook as he petted his horse’s muzzle. “She just laughed and said her name wasn’t Witch, it was The Starving One. She asked if a… a witch could do this.”

  The man fell silent. It wasn’t until Kavil made a quiet, questioning noise that Ulric continued.

  “She grabbed Isaiah by the shoulders and then ripped his throat out with her teeth… there was blood everywhere, and, and everyone began to scream. She let out a hideous cackle and then the ground shook beneath us, knocking us clean off our feet.

  “She dragged Isaiah’s body forward, to the fountain where we had set a wreath upon the knight’s head. The Starving One said she didn’t like knights or flowers, and tossed Isaiah’s body into it to break it.

  “The Starving One sat on the edge of the bloody fountain and said that we, we have to send one person into the fens every week, unarmed and unarmored, or she’d eat us all.”

  Kavil’s stomach roiled in revulsion as he took the horrific story in. Priscilla had been right after all, and for once, Kavil wasn’t relieved by that fact.

  “Did you try to fight back?” Kavil asked softly, trying to hide his disgust behind concern.

  Ulric’s gaze went distant.

  “Only the first time,” Ulric whispered, “and then she devoured an entire family in front of us while her cronies forced us to watch. She left Juliana for last, after eating little Anna, only a month old, and… after that, we didn’t fight back.”

  It took all of Kavil’s self-control to not gag at the scene his mind conjured, and he still had to send some of his own magic to his stomach to help settle it.

  Getting information was Kavil’s job and even though he now dreaded it, he must still press on.

  “How many people are under her command?”

  Ulric frowned, mouthing something before saying, “There are two that stand out from the rest, wearing animal skins, but I think there were nearly fifteen that night. It’s hard to remember clearly.”

  “Why not reach out for help?” Kavil tried his best to sound as nonjudgmental as he could.

  Ulric looked tired as he looked at Kavil.

  “You and your friends are the first people who’ve visited us in seven months,” Ulric said. “Before you, the last person to visit was a trader, and the new mayor, Fylkir, didn’t let anyone else talk to him. Doesn’t like outsiders to know our business.”

  Kavil frowned. “Does Fylkir support this starving one? ‘Outsiders’ could help you.”

  “Only call her The Starving One,” Ulric said, sharpness entering his voice for the first time during their conversation. Kavil could hear the emphasis Ulric gave the title, one that Kavil had lacked. “She gets… gets real angry when you don’t address her properly. And Kavendash wouldn’t lift a finger to help us, not with our history. Fylkir knows it, I know, our whole damn town knows it. The only reason we’ve been allowed to persist is because we’re quiet and don’t make a nuisance of ourselves.”

  Kavil remembered the story Priscilla told them about the town’s history and could scarcely believe that the kingdom still held a grudge over that. The more Kavil learned about Kavendash, the less he liked the country.

  But this wasn’t the time for Kavil to start forming opinions about politics.

  “How long ago did your daughter go into the fens?” Kavil asked gently.

  “Last night,” Ulric whispered. The ghost of a proud smile graced the man’s weathered face. “Holly was so brave, telling Nikolas to not make any trouble for me.”

  “What does Holly look like?” Kavil asked softly, pushing on the one topic Ulric seemed willing to speak on.

  “She just turned thirteen last week, so tall for her age and takes after her mother.” The small joy Ulric had been able to summon faded as quickly as it appeared. “I… I braided a ribbon into her hair before she left and she was wearing a blue dress that matched her eyes.”

  “Where do sacrifices have to go?”

  “First you must follow the speckled stones,” Ulric said, the cadence to his voice suggesting he was repeating words that haunted him, “until you come before the lightning tree that pierces the sky. Turn to the south and walk until you stand before her glory.”

  Kavil opened his mouth to ask another question before a distant sound caught his attention.

  Was that… glass shattering?

  He half turned towards the door and caught someone shouting angrily, “Stop them!”

  Kavil had a sinking feeling that he knew who that person was talking about.

  “Take your son, our tent, and horses,” Kavil said quickly as he stood, peeking through the door and confirming his fears as he saw a flash of red hair, “and leave the town if you fear for your life. Rough it for a few days, and we’ll come back with your daughter, so just stay safe until then.”

  Then, Kavil opened the door and began sprinting after Sulaiman and Priscilla as fast as he could.

  "Hey, wait for me!"