Strength of Fate - 10. Chapter Ten

Nathan woke from a gentle nudge, finding Brohm’s face nearly filling his vision.

“Wakey, wakey,” he said in a flat tone.

Nathan rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “What time is it?”

Brohm, already dressed, stood up. “Dunno. Late? Let’s get some breakfast before we figure out what we’re doing.”

The memory of last night slapped Nathan across the face, and he groaned, wanting to forget it all.

Downstairs, the common room was empty, much to Nathan’s delight. Edgard still had warm leftovers from the morning meal and set two plates out for them. They ate without a word, lost in their own thoughts. Nathan didn’t want to talk about the inevitable, and presumed Brohm felt similarly, yet was proven wrong when the big man broke the silence.

“What’re we gonna do about Cormac?”

Nathan looked up from his plate, offering a hopeful expression. “Nothing?”

Brohm shook his head in disappointment. “Why do you trust him?”

“He’s never given us a reason not to. His words, his actions. I can’t find a fault to judge him poorly.”

“He’s so nosy, though.”

Nathan managed a smile. “You’re not wrong.”

Brohm finished his last forkful of eggs and pushed the plate away. “What about the daemon—I mean, Theodrik?”

“I’ve no idea who could possibly help us open a door to the hells.” Speaking it aloud felt so ridiculous to Nathan.

“Reckon the guild’s gotta have some connections. At least point us in the right direction, yuh?”

Nathan shook his head. “We can’t tell them anything.”

“Why?”

“How are we going to explain our connection to Theodrik? Oh, some daemon decided to come visit and say hello?”

Brohm’s eyes darted about as he contemplated the outcome. “Right,” he drawled. “Damn.”

“Yeah. We gotta find someone who won’t ask questions but give us answers we need.” Nathan considered everyone he knew in his old life, but only one person came to mind. “What about Morgana?”

Brohm’s reaction was immediate. “No! No way.”

“Why not?”

“There’s no chance we’re walking in that haunted swamp again. Twice we did, and twice I regretted it.”

“What if I went alone?”

Brohm slammed the table with a fist. “No! Being there alone? Who knows what would happen. You’d get lost. Probably kill yourself.”

“But she’s the only person we know who’d have any idea—” Brohm’s stare stopped him cold, and Nathan raised a hand to calm him. “Okay, big guy. I hear you. Morgana’s off the list.”

Nathan continued to contemplate in silence, but his mind was blank of anyone who could aid them.

“What about that healer,” Brohm said. “The one that helped the bite on your arm.”

“Lorne? What could a healer know about opening portals?”

Brohm shrugged. “Dunno. But he’s close by. Couldn’t hurt to try.”

“You think he’d be able to keep his mouth shut?”

“Reckon he keeps to himself. That was my impression, at least.”

Nathan stood. “It’s as good a start as any. Let’s go.”

Late morning sun warmed their faces as they rode their horses through Millsfield. They took the south route out of town, but beyond that, the exact location of the healer’s shack was clouded by time. Not helping matters, the shift of seasons—from winter to spring—altered the look of their surroundings. They approached a copse of conifers, and Nathan gestured toward a faint footpath flanked by low boughs.

“Is this it?” Brohm asked.

Nathan dismounted and peered into the shadowed pines. “I was hoping you’d remember better. I was out of it last time we were here.” He caught himself unconsciously rubbing the old bite on his arm.

They led their horses through the trees. This time, instead of snow drifts, their passage was impeded by tenacious undergrowth. Brohm pointed ahead as he caught sight of the small hut, camouflaged amid the brush. They tied their horses to a tree and advanced upon the simple home, the loam underfoot quietening their steps. Nathan gently rapped at the door. There was no answer, and no sound of movement from within. He knocked again, harder this time.

“Hello? Lorne, you home?”

An annoyed cry emerged from inside, followed by muttering and shuffling steps approaching the door. The healer appeared, a scowl on his face. What little hair left on his head was in disarray.

“You enjoy waking people from their nap?”

“Sorry,” Nathan said. “We had . . . uh, no way of knowing.”

Brohm chimed in, a friendly smirk on his face. “Maybe you could put a sign on your door, yuh? It could say: Napping. Bug me later.”

Nathan elbowed Brohm in the ribs. Lorne rolled his eyes and fixed his hair with his fingers.

“Well, I’m up now. What can I do you for?”

The simple query caught Nathan off-guard, realizing he’d never contemplated how to ask such a bizarre and potentially dangerous question.

“Um, we’re looking for information. It’s of a sensitive nature. We’re not even sure if you’d have the answer.”

Lorne just stared at him. “Well? I’m not getting any younger.”

Nathan laughed nervously in spite of himself, glancing at Brohm in hopes he’d take over, but all eyes were on him. “Okay, I guess I’ll just spit it out. Do you know how to open a portal . . . to the hells?”

Lorne’s stare morphed into a scrutinizing gaze. Wanting to avoid his piercing eyes, Nathan stared at the ground.

“Say again?” the old man asked.

Still unwilling to look up, an awkward smile crossed Nathan’s face. “It’s just what I said. You didn’t mishear me.”

Understandably suspicious, Lorne glared at him from the corner of his eye. “Why would you want to do such a thing?”

“Can we come inside?” Nathan asked. “We can explain everything if you’re willing to listen.”

Lorne’s gaze shifted between the two of them before speaking. “Very well.”

He turned and ushered them in with a wave of his hand. They stepped inside and closed the door. Lorne sat at a table and gestured toward wooden chairs.

“Do you recognize us?” Brohm asked as they sat down. “My name’s Sid. You helped my buddy, Whitter, last winter. He had a bite on his arm.”

Nathan pulled back his sleeve to show the scars. Lorne retrieved a lit candle from the table, inspected his arm, then nodded.

“I do. You said it was—what—a wolf bite? I know the shape of many different bites, and that wasn’t caused by an animal.”

“That’s why we’re looking for help,” Nathan said. “It’s about—”

“Hold on,” Brohm said. “We need to know you’ll keep this to yourself, yuh?”

The healer cocked his head slightly. “Why is that?”

“The less people know, the better,” Nathan said. “We don’t want to cause any fear within the community. We’re hoping your word will be good enough to trust.”

Lorne stood up straight in his seat. “Of course my word is good. But you realize what you’re asking is very suspect.”

“We do,” Nathan said. “That’s why we want to keep this quiet. So, do you know anything about opening portals?”

He crossed his arms. “Perhaps I do, perhaps I don’t.”

Nathan raised a hand, hoping Brohm wouldn’t interject. He was learning those kinds of responses caused Brohm’s anger to simmer.

“We’re hoping once we explain our reasons, you’ll understand we’re not doing this for nefarious purposes. Are you aware of creatures that were sighted in the south during the winter, and appearing in Millsfield now that the warm weather has returned?”

Lorne stared at him through slitted eyes. “I’ve heard things, yes.”

Nathan pointed at his arm. “That’s what bit me last winter. You were right. It wasn’t a wolf.”

“Of course I was right.”

“The Adventurer’s Guild calls them goblings, but we’ve discovered their true name: iratxos.”

Lorne bolted out of his seat. “Very few know that word. Where have you heard it?”

Unease fluttered in Nathan’s belly. He weighed the risk of telling this man he barely knew a dangerous truth or allowing these creatures to continue terrorizing the countryside.

“We heard it spoken from the source of the problem. A daemon is in our world, trapped here.”

Lorne stood wide-eyed before them. “You’ve spoken to it! Are you mad?”

“Its presence has caused rifts to appear. Those creatures, iratxos, are using them to travel here. If the daemon returns to the hells, the rifts will stop opening.”

They allowed the healer time to absorb what they were saying. Judging by his expression, he needed it.

Lorne spoke with great clarity. “You can never trust a daemon.”

“I would’ve agreed with you before we met it,” Nathan said. “I know this sounds crazy, but . . . it just wants to go home.”

Lorne scoffed. “You’re right. It’s crazy. The daemon is just deceiving you to bring more of its kind here.”

“It’s not like that. It might be terrifying to look at, but its manner is almost . . . human.”

“Perhaps you’ve been bewitched, then. I told you: you can never trust a daemon.”

Shaking his head, Nathan looked over to Brohm. “This is pointless.”

The big man rose from his chair and pointed a finger at Lorne. “Not a word to anyone. Got it?”

They’d reached the door, but just as Brohm was about to open it, Lorne hollered.

“Hold!”

Both men shook in surprise at the sudden outburst, and cast a glance back at the healer. Lorne gestured woodenly for them to sit down again. Reluctantly, they did as they were bidden.

“I’m leery of you two, but if you insist on this fool’s expedition, I want someone I can trust to take the reins.”

“Who?” Brohm asked.

“A woman, a scholar well-versed in all things beyond the veil. Her name is Rabiah Charters.”

“Where can we find her?” Nathan asked.

“It’s been an age, but I believe she’s a permanent resident at Oaksgate University in Etton Crossing, east of here. Are you familiar with the city?”

Brohm shook his head.

“I’ve heard it in passing, but never been there,” Nathan said.

“If anyone will have the answers you seek, she is the one.” He chuckled to himself. “But I’ll give a fair warning. Asking for help won’t be easy. She’ll think you’re wasting her time.”

Before they could respond, he shuffled to a cabinet. Mumbling, he searched through a disorganized mess to retrieve paper, a quill, and a stoppered jar of ink. Returning, he wiped a few crumbs from the table before sitting.

Brohm caught Nathan’s eye with a questioning glance, and he returned it with a faint shrug. They watched on as the old man penned a letter, the harsh scratches of quill on paper filling the room. Only a few lines were written before he signed it, blowing gently to dry the ink as he reviewed it. After neatly folding the note, Lorne glanced at the burning candle. With a groan, he rose to return to the cabinet, digging deeper this time. The muttering continued as he pushed items aside. After opening a small drawer, he found what he was looking for.

“I haven’t needed this in a while,” he said, holding a short metal rod.

It wasn’t until he returned that Nathan recognized it as a small wax stamp. Lorne tipped the candle, pooling wax over the letter. He sealed it and then handed it to Nathan.

“There you go.”

Nathan took it. “I’m sorry, but . . . what is this?”

“Your recommendation, of course, as well as a brief on your situation. Be sure to hand that to her quickly. And don’t waste her time. She doesn’t suffer fools well.” Lorne’s expression turned dire. “I can’t stress this enough. Follow her instructions implicitly. If she doesn’t agree to help you, do not attempt anything on your own. Daemons are not to be trifled with. I don’t care if you think its request is benevolent, there’s no guarantee of anything. What it asks for could be a trap.”

Brohm was nodding as the healer spoke. “Yuh, I don’t really trust it, either.”

“Good. Use that mistrust to your advantage.” He pointed to Nathan. “If you find him acting strangely or agreeing to things you don’t believe to be proper, you must stop him.”

Forlorn doubt overtook Brohm’s features—an expression Nathan had never seen before—and he suddenly felt on trial, trying to prove his innocence.

“I will,” Brohm said with determination, only adding to Nathan’s concern. “And you promise not to repeat this to anyone, yuh?”

“Of course not,” Lorne replied, as though it were obvious.

Brohm shook his hand, gave his thanks, and headed outside. After breaking free of the terrible sensation in his gut, Nathan held up the letter.

“Thank you for doing this. We appreciate your help.”

Lorne nodded, locking eyes with him again. “Be careful.”

“We will.”

The healer shut the door while Nathan inspected the letter. The seal consisted of an unadorned design: a bird, perhaps a seagull. Despite its simplicity, it felt inexplicably important.

 

 

◆ ◆ ◆

 

 

Upon reaching the guildhouse, Nathan remained haunted by Brohm’s icy reply to Lorne’s warning. They stabled their horses, but before leaving the outbuilding, Nathan stopped Brohm.

“You trust me, don’t you?” he asked.

Brohm appeared confused. “Yuh. Why you ask me that?”

“Back there, you said you’d stop me if I did anything strange.”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Sure. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“But you seemed so serious.”

“This is serious.”

Nathan felt like he was losing the thread of the argument he was trying to make. “I know, but . . . sorry, you made this face and I got this pit of the stomach feeling and I don’t know—”

He couldn’t continue because Brohm had pulled him into a hug, mashing Nathan’s face against his chest.

“I’m scared too, l’il buddy,” Brohm said fervently. “I’d never be able to do any of this without you.”

Nathan held on tight, turning his head enough to speak. “Me neither.”

“But to answer your question: yuh, of course I trust you. I just don’t trust that daemon.”

Nathan nodded against his chest.

“Reckon we need to decide what to do about Cormac, too,” Brohm said.

“Have you seen him since last night?”

“No.”

Nathan cursed under his breath and bolted across the guildhouse’s courtyard, up the steps of the veranda, and through the front door. In the common area, he found some of the men eating lunch. A cursory scan revealed no sign of the monk. He approached Leah.

“Have you seen Cormac?”

She held a finger to her chin as she thought. “Actually, now that you mention it, no, I’ve not seen him today. That’s weird.”

He quickly thanked her before she finished speaking and then hurried upstairs. Upon reaching Cormac’s bedroom, he yanked the door latch and pushed hard, causing the door to swing open and slam against the wall. A blanketed lump on the bed jumped in surprise. Cormac lifted his head from his pillow, fear painted on his face at the sight of Nathan, with Brohm now looming behind him.

Nathan let out a sigh of relief and stepped into the room. “We thought you left.”

Cormac cowered behind his sheet for protection. “I will. Certainly, I will.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

Brohm closed the door behind him, grabbed a chair from the corner, turned it around and sat, leaning forward on the backrest.

“We need to talk, Cormac.” Brohm’s voice held its dangerous edge again.

“Please. I told you your secrets are safe. ’Tis a promise.”

“We’ll be sure of that ’cause you’re coming with us.”

Nathan turned to Brohm. “What?”

“Where are you taking me?” Cormac asked meekly.

“Some city called Etton Crossing,” Brohm replied. “It’s against my better judgement, but reckon it’s the best choice we got.”

Nathan pulled Brohm from the chair and spoke under his breath. “Can I speak to you outside?”

They stepped into the hallway and spoke in hushed tones.

“When were you planning on telling me this plan?” Nathan asked.

Brohm laid a hand on his shoulder. “Sorry, I just made it up now.”

Nathan gaped at him. “He’s not our prisoner. If he wants to leave, that’s his choice.”

“He made his choice when he spied on us. He knows too much. He’s in too deep now.”

Nathan raked fingers through his hair. “We have to give him a choice. We can’t force him to come.”

The big man considered his words. With a deep sigh, he entered Cormac’s room again. The monk sat on the bed, dressing himself. Brohm took his place back on the chair with Nathan at his side.

“Okay, so, Whitter makes a good point. We can’t force you to go anywhere. But you know too much to just walk away.”

Cormac glanced at both of them, nervous about what that meant.

“As much as I hate to do this, we’re gonna tell you everything,” Brohm continued. “Well, not everything. But enough for you to understand why we gotta go to Etton Crossing.”

He explained the source of the iratxos being caused by the daemon, Theodrik; why they anticipated the guild’s involvement would result in too many questions about Nathan’s past; and how they hoped Rabiah Chambers at Oaksgate University would be able to help them. Cormac sat silently while they spoke, never interrupting or asking for more details.

“I never thought to ask until now,” Nathan said, “but do you know anything about daemons?”

Cormac was still processing everything he’d been told, and was slow to reply. “No. Only that they’re devious creatures. Are you sure this thing is telling you the truth?”

Nathan scrubbed his face with a hand. “I thought so, but honestly, I’m second-guessing myself now.”

“Then I’ll aid you on your quest,” Cormac said resolutely. “It’s a worthy goal. One that could save many lives.”

Hearing it spoken aloud, Nathan wasn’t sure they were the right people for the job, but given the circumstances, he knew they had to try.

“Thank you.”

“We could also continue our private talks,” Cormac said.

“No,” Brohm interjected. “Whitter, you can do whatever you want, but I’m done with those.”

Nathan nodded, but felt a pang of despondence. He’d hoped their talks would’ve helped Brohm combat his anger, or at least lessen its severity.

“When do we leave?” Cormac asked.

“We need to tell Theodrik the plan,” Nathan said.

“Do we?” Brohm asked. “Reckon the less it knows, the better.”

Cormac murmured in agreement.

“It’s expecting some kind of response,” Nathan said. “If we leave for the city and discover a solution, how will we find Theodrik again?”

Brohm offered a sidelong glance. “It found you already. Remember, it said you were connected somehow. Maybe it’ll follow you.”

“What if we tell it, but keep the details light,” Nathan said. “Just say we’re heading to the city. That’s all.”

Cormac waited a moment before chiming in. “A reasonable compromise, wouldn’t you agree?”

Brohm exhaled forcefully through his nose. “Fine. We’ll get supplies readied today, signal it tonight, and leave at first light.” He rose from the chair, staring at Cormac. “Don’t make me regret getting you involved.”

Cormac gently rubbed his ribs, grimacing in pain. “You made yourself crystal clear last night, Sid. I won’t let you down.”

“You better not. That kick’s nothing compared to what I can really do.”

He stormed out of the room and slammed the door shut. Nathan’s face heated in reaction to Brohm’s attitude.

“I apologize about all this, Cormac. He means well, but he’s . . .”

“Protective?”

Nathan shrugged.

“You have a powerful ally and friend. ’Tis a shame his fury is triggered so easily.”

“That’s one way of putting it. I’m sorry about him kicking you—”

Cormac waved away his concern. “I’ll live.”

An awkward silence fell between them. Nathan wanted to ask about Cormac’s claim of guilt the night before—murdering one of his fellow monks—but knew time was short. He’d have to wait another day.

“Okay, I’m going to ask if anyone knows the way to Etton Crossing,” Nathan said. “I’ve an idea where it is but never been there.”

Cormac offered a knowing smile in response. “’Twould seem my joining you is fortuitous. I can be your guide.”

“You know the way?”

The monk raised his eyebrows. “Indeed.”

“Do you know how long it’d take to get there by horseback?”

Cormac counted silently on his fingers as he considered the question. “Possibly a fortnight? There are too many variables to make a good guess.”

“That’s fine. It’s enough to give me an idea.” Nathan opened the door to leave. “Be ready to head out tomorrow morning. We’ll have a spare horse for you to ride.”

Cormac bowed his head. “It shall be an honour to be part of your team.”

 

 

◆ ◆ ◆

 

 

Nathan returned downstairs to find the lunch crowd had grown, but it was easy enough to spot Brohm and Leah standing near the doorway to the kitchen. As he neared them, Leah beamed at him with fervour.

“Sid tells me you two are on an adventure.”

Nathan laughed weakly. “An adventure? I don’t know about that.” He glanced at Brohm. The anger from earlier had disappeared. It wasn’t the first time he’d noticed Leah had a calming effect on him, and Nathan wished she was the one joining them instead.

“Oh, I have something for you, Sid. I’ll get it later,” she said.

Brohm bashfully scratched the back of his neck. “Yuh? What is it?”

“It’s just a little something. You’ll see.” A bell rang from the kitchen. “Oop, that’s me. I’ll see you boys later.”

She scurried past them through the swinging door, emerging moments later with a tray of food in hand.

Nathan pulled Brohm aside. “You all good, big guy?”

He nodded.

“It turns out Cormac knows the way to Etton Crossing,” Nathan said, “so that’s one thing crossed off our list.”

The mention of the monk’s name darkened Brohm’s expression again. “Good. At least he’ll be worth something.”

Nathan took his hand and pulled him to the relative privacy under the stairwell. “Why do you hate him so much?”

He stared at the ceiling and let out a sigh. “Where do I start?”

“The beginning.”

Brohm held up his index finger. “We see him around town. Some creepy beggar on the street telling us we’re evil or something. What’s that about?”

His middle finger rose. “He conveniently finds you in the middle of the night after you dealt with Tarn. ‘Helps’ you get home. Meanwhile, I’m worried sick about you at our apartment. I never should’ve left you that night.”

“But I told you to leave—”

Brohm ignored him, adding a ring finger to the count. “He barges into this place in the middle of a blizzard, taking advantage of his ‘good will’ to get closer to you. Get between us.”

“Wait, what?”

His little finger sprung up. “He gets us talking about stuff that’s nobody’s business but our own. I still don’t reckon how he managed that, and I hate myself for letting my guard down.”

Finally, his thumb completed the score. “Last night, he follows us and sticks his nose where it doesn’t belong. That’s why I don’t trust him. That’s why I hate him.”

Luckily, Brohm managed to keep his voice under control, falling under the hubbub of the men chatting at the tables. Nathan was speechless and could only watch Brohm smoulder, his chest rising and falling with each angry breath.

“Does that clear things up?” Brohm asked.

“Are you jealous?” Nathan immediately regretted asking that aloud.

“What? Why would you ask that?” Brohm stumbled over his words, his face reddening more so.

“That night. You’re upset he was with me, instead of you?”

The rim of Brohm’s eyes turned glassy. Hiding his face, he pushed past and headed for the front door. Nathan followed, reaching out for him, ignoring the confused looks of the guild members.

“Wait, come back.”

Ignoring his plea, Brohm ran outside. Nathan reached the threshold, finding the big man stumble around the corner of the building, hands to his face to stifle a sob. The sight staggered Nathan like a punch to the face. He followed, peering around the corner to find Brohm collapsed to his knees on the lawn, his shoulders jerking with each sob. Nathan ran and knelt down beside him.

“I’m sorry, Brohm,” he whispered. “I didn’t realize how much it upset you.”

Brohm steadied his breathing before trying to speak. “The night I forced you to kill Tarn, I told myself it was for our protection. But really, I did it ’cause I was mad at you. It was your fault we got into that mess.”

Nathan let out a deep sigh. “I know.”

“You pushed me away that night, and I deserved it. But after you were gone, I reckoned that was the end for us. I was so happy to be wrong when I found you the next morning. But when you told me later that Cormac was there that night, I felt betrayed. I should’ve been the one there for you. I don’t want anyone else to take my place.”

Nathan rested his head on Brohm’s shoulder. “No one could replace you, ever. I don’t know how to express it any simpler than that.”

Brohm wiped his nose and took another shuddering breath. “So, yuh, reckon I am jealous. I dunno what’s wrong with me.”

“Nothing’s wrong with you.”

“It feels like I’m always letting you down. Always getting angry at the stupidest things.”

Nathan rubbed his back to soothe him. “The first days we were together, I’ll admit I found your anger frightening yet attractive at the same time.”

“What? Why?”

“It’s hard to explain, but I’ve discovered that ferocity controls all your emotions, including your passion.”

“Yuh?” His voice rose slightly.

Nathan muttered his assent, gently kissing his neck. “But you’re right. Your anger can flare up a little too easily, but it’s who you are. I love you for it. All I can ask is you try to keep it in check, and only unleash it when we really need it.”

Brohm turned and wrapped his arms around Nathan. “I’ll try. I will. I promise”

“I know.” Nathan held him close. “But please, try not to be too angry with Cormac, okay?”

Brohm nodded his head against him, letting out a sigh. “Reckon it’d make a pretty terrible trip if I didn’t let it go.”

They sat together, allowing time to wipe their eyes and gather their wits. Nathan regretted hurting Brohm with his callous words, but was gratified to fully understand Brohm’s hostility toward Cormac. With the truth out in the open, perhaps Brohm could free himself of the jealousy he felt. The concept was strange to consider at first. How could Brohm be jealous of a helpful monk? But Nathan supposed it was all part of his protective nature. How could he fault him for that?

Guild members crossed the courtyard, readying their mounts to head back to their assigned tasks. Nathan and Brohm waited until they left. They had no interest in attempting an explanation for their dramatic and embarrassing departure. Once the guildhouse was empty, they headed to the kitchen and toward Iain’s office. Nathan knocked at the door.

“Enter,” came Iain’s voice in reply.

They did so, nodding in greeting.

“Whitter, Sid. What can I do for you?”

Nathan stepped forward. “We’re heading out for an indeterminate amount of time and need funds from our personal account.”

“Very well.” Iain pushed aside the book he was using and opened a drawer to retrieve a near-identical book. Using a ribbon bookmark, he opened it and scanned down to the final entry. “You have a sizable amount. How much do you need?”

“All of it.”

Iain nearly choked. “I don’t think you realize how much coin you possess.”

Nathan glanced between Iain and Brohm in confusion. “How much are we talking about?”

Iain cleared his throat. “After taxes and guild deductibles, you have nearly ten thousand in silver, as well as over a thousand in gold coin.”

Now it was Nathan’s turn to choke. Brohm approached the desk, turning his head in an attempt to make sense of the numbers in the ledger.

“How’d we make so much?” Brohm asked.

“This branch has done quite well for itself,” Iain said. “I explained this to you earlier, but I suppose I didn’t explain it clearly enough.”

Brohm gestured at the book. “You never told me numbers.”

“No, I suppose I didn’t. My apologies. But you understand now why you can’t take it all.”

A laugh escaped Nathan. “Yeah, no kidding.”

Brohm wore a bemused grin, his eyes out of focus as he considered the possibilities all that coin could provide.

Iain stared at them expectantly. “Well? How much would you like to withdraw?”

Nathan scratched the back of his head. “Two hundred silver?”

Ian scoffed. “I won’t begin to guess what you need this for, but going out on the road with two hundred is ill-advised. Will one hundred suffice?”

Nathan shrugged. “Sure?”

Iain scribbled a new entry into the ledger, then glanced up, noting their hands were empty. “How do you plan on carrying this coin? Do you have a lockbox?”

An abashed smile crossed Nathan’s face. “No, we’ve never carried anything more than a coinpurse.”

“That’s fine. We have bags to transport coin back to headquarters. You can take one of those.”

He pointed to a cabinet on the far wall. Brohm opened it to find a small collection of leather sacks. He browsed and found one to his liking. Meanwhile, Iain lifted the carpet near his desk, revealing a hidden safe. He turned a wheel back and forth with practised finesse, then inserted a small handle that fit like a key and turned it. The lock disengaged with an audible thunk, and he pulled the door open. Brohm handed him the sack, and they waited while Iain counted the silver.

Task completed, Iain shut and locked the safe. Pulling the sack’s drawstring closed, he hefted it in both hands with a grunt. Brohm eased his burden, effortlessly whirling the sack over his shoulder.

“Safe travels, gentlemen,” Iain said. “Now, I’d like to get back to work.”

 

 

◆ ◆ ◆

 

 

That evening, Nathan and Brohm set about packing their belongings for the long trip east. While organizing items into piles on the bed, Leah popped her head through the open doorway.

“Hey, boys,” she drawled, “I’m gonna miss you two.” She entered with her hands behind her back. “I’ve got something for you, Sid.”

Brohm drew close, a shy grin on his face. “Yuh?”

She presented a wide-brimmed straw hat. “Whitter wears his hood for protection from the sun, but I’ve noticed you don’t have anything. The days are getting hotter. This’ll help you keep cool.”

Brohm blinked in surprise, genuinely touched. “It’s hard to find hats that fit me right,” he said, trying it on.

“Looks like this one fits,” Leah said with a smile.

Brohm adjusted it slightly. “Thanks. But where’d you get it? This can’t be yours.”

She giggled. “Truth be told, I bought it for Edgard years ago, but it was too big for him. He kept it, though. I guess he felt bad or something.”

Brohm pulled it off, offering it back. “If it’s his, I can’t take it.”

“Don’t be silly,” she said, plopping it back on his head. “I asked him, and he was more than happy to donate it.”

“Oh,” he said as he tested its fit again. He grinned and turned to Nathan. “How do I look?”

Watching from across the room, Nathan was unaware of the smile on his face. Brohm’s grin never failed to bring him comfort. Nathan filed this moment in his memory, locked with the few others he cherished. It was always the simplest moments that held the deepest emotional impact for him.

“It looks great!” It was no lie. The hat somehow multiplied Brohm’s allure.

“Yuh?” He continued to fiddle with it. “Thanks, Leah.”

“You’re welcome.” She hugged him, her arms barely reaching around his middle. “So, how long is this adventure going to take?”

“Given it’s nearly a month to get there and back, it’s gonna be a while,” Nathan said.

She pouted, then accepted his answer with a nod. “Okay. Before I leave you two, I get to kiss the big lug goodbye.”

She pecked Brohm on each cheek, causing them to blush, then crossed the room to Nathan and hugged him tightly.

“Take care of each other,” she said softly in his ear.

“Don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine,” he replied.

She winked and gently tapped his nose with a finger. “I know.”

Once the guildhouse had quieted down for the night, Nathan placed the lit lantern on the window sill—their signal for Theodrik to meet them. Brohm lay in bed, hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling.

“I’m gonna miss this place,” he mused. “It’s really starting to feel like a home.”

Nathan lay down beside him. “We’ll be back soon enough. Part of me is looking forward to being on the road again, though. Just you and me.”

“And Cormac,” Brohm muttered.

“Right. Cormac.” Nathan sighed.

“What should we do with him after all this?”

Nathan turned toward Brohm. “We’re not gonna kill him, right? I know that’s probably going through your head.”

Brohm gave him a sidelong glance and smirked. “You reckon?”

“I’m serious.”

He rolled his eyes. “I know, I know.”

Nathan reached out and laid a hand on his belly, rubbing it gently. “If we manage to get this daemon back to its home, Cormac should understand we’re not trying to do anything bad.”

“We need to make sure he never tells anyone,” Brohm said.

“I think he knows that. We’ve made it clear.”

Nathan snuggled closer, laying his head on Brohm’s shoulder. Contented, he closed his eyes for only a moment before the big man nudged him.

“You hear that?” Brohm whispered.

Nathan raised his head to listen. As before, the chorus of insects had hushed, leaving an aberrant impression in the dark.

“What did you hear?” he asked.

“That leathery sound.”

Nathan rose and stepped to the window. The moon had shifted in the sky, much farther than expected. He must’ve dozed off. Brohm joined him, and they surveyed the sky. He pointed above the treeline at a slow-moving shadow outlined by the stars. It wheeled in the sky before sinking into the trees.

“Okay, let’s go,” Nathan said, closing the shutters of the lantern and taking it with them.

Upon reaching the front door, he signalled for Brohm to wait. Standing still, he listened for any movement within the building. He refused to make the same mistake twice. If anyone was going to follow them, they’d know. Satisfied after waiting a minute, he signalled Brohm to open the door. They advanced to the long grass behind the guildhouse and crouched on their haunches to observe their surroundings. The night song of the insects had returned, making it difficult to hear anyone approaching.

“Reckon it’s safe,” Brohm whispered.

“I know,” Nathan said, “but I’d rather be cautious than caught by someone else too curious for their own good.”

Brohm waited patiently until Nathan’s concern was satisfied again, then led them through the grass toward the treeline of the ravine. Nathan opened the lantern’s shutters—a small touch of light to help them not trip over roots. They descended cautiously, peering into the dark. Two red orbs, distant at the bottom of the ravine, announced Theodrik’s presence.

Nathan couldn’t help but shudder as a chill passed through his core. Lorne’s dire warning returned to mind, filling him with doubt. Was it possible the daemon was using them for a sinister plot? Anything was possible, he told himself, but whenever they spoke to Theodrik, its words felt true.

“Nathan, Brohm. You come with news?” Theodrik asked as they approached, hunched down in an attempt to level their eyeline. “I did not expect word so quickly.”

“We’ve got a possible lead,” Nathan said. “Someone who lives in the city of Etton Crossing. She might know how to open a portal to get you back home.”

Theodrik smiled, revealing its nightmarish teeth again. “This pleases me greatly. You fill me with hope. I thank you.”

Nathan raised his hands. “I don’t wanna give you false hope. This is only the beginning. We don’t know if she’ll help us.”

It nodded. “In our short time of knowing each other, both of you have managed many great things. Do not underestimate yourselves.”

Brohm scoffed. “What are you? A positive reinforcement daemon?”

“I am simply one who is appreciative of your efforts.”

“But you’re a daemon!” Brohm blurted out. “You should be trying to kill us, not say nice things.”

Theodrik sat down to lower itself to Brohm’s height, but no matter how hard it tried, the daemon always loomed over them. “I understand that our kind has been misconstrued. We are not all malicious souls. I will admit our initial meeting was unfavourable—”

“You tried to kill me!” Brohm spat.

“Yes, however, if you recall the event correctly, you did attack first.”

“I was just protecting . . .” Brohm trailed off before continuing. “What would you expect me to do?”

Theodrik nodded. “It is clear you care deeply for your friend. You are his knight. Your actions spoke of bravery. Death could have befallen you, yet his safety was paramount, and you acted without hesitation.”

Those words extinguished the flame within Brohm. He glanced bashfully toward Nathan, and his voice cracked when he spoke. “Yuh.”

“Like anyone forced into slavery, I was incensed. Returning Nathan to Lord Helmsley was my singular goal. I was blinded by the need for freedom. You were the unfortunate soul in my way to reaching that goal. But afterward, upon reflection, I felt deep regret for my actions. Violence can come easy, but it is not my preference.” It bowed its head. “I humbly request your forgiveness, and ask that you accept my apologies for my transgressions.”

Brohm, speechless, let out a long sigh followed by a subtle nod.

“I can appreciate your situation,” Nathan said, “but I have one question. After you brought me to Helmsley—and then killed him—why didn’t you take me with you when I asked? You’d fulfilled the contract. You were free to do whatever you wanted.”

“This is true, however, I assumed the men under Lord Helmsley would continue to hunt us. In hindsight, we could have travelled far from these lands to escape them. But then, you would have never been reunited with your knight.”

Nathan glanced at Brohm, who was staring at the ground with another bashful smile on his face.

Theodrik continued. “In my many years, I have observed that events occur for a reason. Some call it fate.”

Nathan shook his head. “I don’t believe in fate. I can’t. The idea of our lives being out of our control? What’s the point of life if it’s already been planned?”

“Your life is a gift. It is a pleasure worth experiencing, even if the story has already been written for you. The good and the bad. I am not saying your every decision has been preordained, but the major branches of your life cannot be fought. That is the strength of fate. Its power is without equal.”

Nathan’s life flashed before his mind’s eye. He considered the decisions and choices he’d made. The outcomes they brought. Were they really part of some grand design?

Brohm cleared his throat. “So, uhm, maybe we should get back to the plan?”

Nathan broke himself free from his thoughts and Theodrik’s words—he refused to believe them. “Right. We’ll be heading east by horseback in the morning. I guess you should follow us in case this person agrees to help.”

“Yes, this is a logical plan,” Theodrik said. “You travel by day. I will follow at night.”

“What about once we reach Etton Crossing? How do we keep you updated? You can’t risk being seen in the city, and having a lantern out a window isn’t going to work.”

Brohm touched a finger to his lip as he thought. “You said you could sense where Nathan is.”

“Indeed,” Theodrik replied.

“Reckon you could find him in a field or forest outside the city? If we head out at night, that could be your signal.”

Theodrik presented his toothy smile, causing Brohm to involuntarily flinch. “This is an excellent suggestion. Yes, I could sense Nathan leaving the city at night and treat that as your signal.”

Nathan patted Brohm’s shoulder. “Good idea, big guy.”

Brohm chuckled in response, rubbing the back of his head.

The daemon rose to its feet. “Very well. I am delighted by this news. I wish you safe journey, and will patiently wait in hiding near this city you speak of.”

“Okay, well, I guess we’ll see you there,” Nathan said, raising a hand goodbye.

“Fare well, Nathan and his knight, Brohm,” Theodrik said.

They stumbled back as its wings unfolded, pumping hard to lift its bulky body into the air. Dirt and dust billowed up, forcing them to shield their eyes. Once it had departed, Brohm looked over to Nathan.

“It knows I’m not really a knight, yuh?”