Katerin was content with her quiet life of studying the arcane, and wanted for nothing in her life. She had friends, family, and plenty to do.
But life has a way of changing people--a way of pushing them to do things far outside their comfort and ex...
Byron considered them for a moment, before nodding. "And below?"
Arnet's grin changed into something malicious. "Mhm. Below is taken care of. No one will survive the fall, and if they do..." There was mirth in his words, taking his voice to a higher pitch. "They will wish they had died up here." His loose sleeve slipped up his arm as he gestured, revealing the skeletal form of the limb. No flesh or muscle covered the pale, gleaming bones.
Byron smiled with him, the creases around his eyes deepening. "The other tunnels? Are you going to keep the dwarves busy?"
Arnet's posture changed immediately, and he was every bit the serious scholar. "Already done. The enchantment is working perfectly. Every death feeds our Blood Stone."
"Good."
"You know, there are certain people whose blood and souls are best suited for this task, don't you?"
Byron gave him a stern look. "I do. We need volume for this, Arnet. Quality is not important."
Arnet laughed waving an arm through the air, scholarly presence already gone again. "But if we could find some... it would please her."
Byron crossed his arms. "If you find anyone, tell me."
"Of course." Arnet bowed his head, his hands clasped in front of him, his skeletal fingers looking too long, their sharpened points digging into the skin of his other hand.
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Harness and Mary were wonderful hosts, but Katerin had realized the previous evening that no one in this town appreciated the type of books she spent most of her time reading. Mary had given her a book, and it was a kind gesture.
It was a ridiculous storybook about a dwarven adventurer named Tumble. She had done her best to accept it with grace, and not tell the woman her honest opinion of it. It was nothing more than pointless nonsense, and as she read it, she felt as though her brain was melting. But read it she had, and she was no better off for it.
As she walked for the keep, she had a small skip to her step. Graiden had surely found something. There had to be something here that could link to her mother. If not, she had wasted months of grueling travel to follow something that held no more clues for her, but that would not happen. The thought of being free of the ship, just to turn right around and get back on board was an unsettling one. She knew she would have to get on another ship in her lifetime, but she hoped it need not be today.
She walked through the archway, and once again saw no guards. The hairs on her neck still prickled as they had the day before, but she did her best to ignore it and worked to keep her focus.
Graiden sat at his desk, his broad shoulders hunched over, and he looked up as she entered. His face seemed naturally stern, and his dark eyes held deep pools of wisdom. They appeared as the eyes of a man who could see through even the most masterfully crafted lies. "Good morning," he said and he waited for her to take a seat.
