The Beast

Chapter Thirty-Two

"The intruder sir?"

"Yes. Now go," Ylvir waved at him dismissively, the cursed man darting away all too eagerly.

Not too much longer, Branneg returned, the man in tow with a carefully kept expression that betrayed no feelings except the keen glint in his green eyes. Ylvir knew this man was up to no good by that alone, but he had no evidence to support the feeling other than his habit to go poking around the place. Ylvir even had the brief thought of whether he would see the same glint in the girl's similar eyes, but quickly dismissed it to focus on the task at hand.

"You required my presence," the man asked him simply, taking him aback when he added a slight bow and a, "sir?"

If it were possible, Ylvir became more distrustful of the man. He eyed him suspiciously, but chose not to remark on it, again reminding himself of present matters.

"Where is your place of residence," Ylvir asked.

The man blinked once, the only sign of any surprise. "Pardon?"

"Where do you live," Ylvir reiterated, biting out each word.

"Is this about my daughter," he inquired.

"Does she live there," Ylvir asked in response.

"Aye..."

"Then yes. Now tell me where."

The man hesitated, before bowing again. "Of course, sir," he obliged, imparting his place of residence, describing the slum he lived in, a poorer district of the city.

When the man finished Ylvir asked cautiously, "You speak the truth?"

The man scoffed, his stony expression breaking into a dark smile. "What could I possibly gain from lying?"

Ylvir offered no response other than another narrowing of his eyes before turning to Branneg. "You know where that is?"

Branneg nodded. "Yessir. Nasty place, sir."

"But you can go there, yes?"

Branneg nodded again, though he quavered nervously once more. "Shouldn't be a p-problem, no sir."

"Go, then. Deliver a message to whoever's there. Tell them to return what they stole from me."

"Er, y-yessir. But..."

"What?"

"If there's no one there...?"

"Wait for them."

Ylvir noticed Branneg still wasn't moving. "What's the problem now?"

"W-what if they don't know what it is they're r-returning, sir?"

"They'll know," Ylvir's voice ground out firmly.

Branneg nodded along. "Course, sir. Right away, sir."

"Branneg," Ylvir called out to him once more, stopping the cursed man in his tracks before he looked back meekly.

"Yessir?"

"Be careful," he said gruffly.

Branneg's thin lips twisted in a nervous smile. "Aye, sir," he said before he disappeared.

"Was that all, sir?"

Ylvir faced the shifty man again. "Yes. Feel free to go back to...whatever it is you do."

"As you wish," the man bowed before taking his leave, Ylvir's wary gaze never leaving him.

When the man was sure the beast could not read his expression, he became pensive. With the beast fetching his daughter, his plan might have to come into action much sooner than he had anticipated. Of course, he did console himself with the fact that he neglected to inform that going to his home would afford them a nasty surprise. Raela was always ready with a knife he had trained her to use himself. She knew the...hospitality to show unwelcome guests.

A smile graced his face briefly at the thought, growing wider as they changed to thoughts of the treasure. It was what he had come for, and it was what he would leave with. He would make sure of it, deal or no deal. The beast had made a mistake in putting any trust in him without asking him to make a return promise of presenting no threat to it and the other repulsive inhabitants in their deal. Not that he would have abided by any such promise.

The creature had been right about one thing; its word was worth much more than his own. It must be if the thing had managed to gain the respect of its fellow monsters, no matter how strange he thought it to be. It was actually what he was counting on. Honor and respect were often followed by pride and trust, which were a mistake in the midst of thieves like himself. They had always led to the downfall of those who possessed them before, usually by his own hand, and he would ensure they would do so again.

Yes, that treasure would be his soon. Very soon...

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(A/N) What could Hemorra's father possibly be up to?

Hello everyone! So in case you aren't following me and haven't seen the message I recently posted, I am going on hiatus indefinitely as of late April, meaning I will be taking all of my books down, this one included.

Now, before you panic, I also said I would be trying to complete this book before then, the key word there being "trying". There's still a lot of content to cover, and obviously not a lot of time to do it in.

But what I didn't say in my message was a proposition to you all, my readers:

If, despite my best efforts, I do not complete The Beast in the time alotted, I will be willing to give you the cliffs notes, i.e. I will spoil what I haven't finished.

I already have the whole story in my head, it just takes me a while to translate my thoughts/feelings into flowing paragraphs of words. I just felt it would be wrong to leave you guys hanging like that, so at least this way you have some sense of resolution, even if it's nothing compared to reading the whole story.

Thanks for being such great readers, though. You've all been so patient and understanding, and I really couldn't ask for more.

Until next time!

-Schlemiel