Page 28 of Immortal Sentry

“Yes, I’d know. After all, I’ve lived far more seasons than I’d like to confess confined to these stone walls.”

Eron squinted into the darkness. “Can I see you?”

The man lifted the lamp, removing the shutter. “Only for a moment.”

An angelic vision appeared before Eron. “Your hair! It’s silver!” Silver hair, silver eyes.…

A guard’s uniform.

“It is? I hadn’t noticed.” Cap chuckled. He was taller than Eron by a few inches and muscular.

“Who are you?” Eron growled. “One of the guards come to taunt me?”

“A friend who wants to help. Sadly, I cannot release you. Not until I’m sure I can get you away from this place. Have no fear, I mean you no harm.”

“But you’re a guard.” Now Eron crossed his arms over his chest. Thinking back to several uniforms Kene kept on hand, he added, “Or you’re dressed like one.”

“I do not guard the current monster in power.”

Eron remained quiet, but Cap didn’t elaborate. “Well, there’s that, I suppose.”

Cap held the lamp higher. “You’re…you’re.… you look like…” Whatever he planned to say, he kept to himself, substituting, “You’re a beautiful man.”

So was Cap, though slightly older than Eron, perhaps having seen thirty summers. “I’m glad I meet with your approval, but now isn’t the time for flirtation.” In other circumstances, more than flirting might happen. “Why are you helping me?”

“Because, Edry, it matters not who you really are. You’re still a far better man thanKingBain.” Cap spat the title.

Eron gave a bow. “Once again, I’m glad to meet with your approval.”

“So, how should we pass the time? Tell stories? We could play cards, but I have none.” Cap sounded so casual, as though they weren’t meeting on the opposite sides of cell bars.

Some of the bravado bled from Eron. “Why don’t you stay right there, letting me know I’m not alone?” He lowered himself to the bed. Straw poked his ass, but at least it was a mattress. He’d worry about vermin later. For now, he laid his head on his folded arms.

Cap sang, keeping his voice low. The words tickled a memory that Eron couldn’t quite grasp. He closed his eyes, letting themelody soothe him. The man truly possessed a lovely singing voice.

Eron awoke alone.

Chapter Twelve

That couldn’t be Prince Dafron! He’d be older now, about thirty-nine or forty summers. Besides, Kerric had seen the prince’s lifeless body and the king’s and… someone who hadn’t been Prince Eron.

Could the man in the cell be Eron Eritrescue? If so, how could Crau not know? Or maybe he did and intended to use the information in some way. Though Kerric wouldn’t have guessed back when he’d shared ale with the commander, Crau apparently possessed an ambitiousness that drove him to betray his king. Seeing him strutting around made Kerric wonder if he’d ever known the man at all.

The appearance of King Lothan's son would explain why Kerric no longer took gargoyle form. But what of his men? According to Miisov, the curse should’ve ended when an heir returned. Shouldn’t it? Or was that when a legitimate heir sat on the throne?

Kerric waited until the man who called himself Edry fell asleep to leave. He returned the lantern and opened the door enough to peer out. The guard had his back to the door. Good. Kerric ran his hand over the floor, found a pebble, and tossed it the other way.

The guard rose and, hand on his sword, followed the noise.

Kerric slipped out the opposite way, deposited the cup on a nearby table, and retreated to the servants’ stairs. No lanterns hung on brackets, but he didn’t trip on uneven stairs. He climbed above the official part of the castle, then the area reserved for the royal family. He came out on the top level, reachable only by these stairs.

Keeping his footsteps light proved a challenge, yet Kerric managed not to draw attention. Servants and most inhabitants should have been asleep at this hour. Another set of spiral steps at the end of the hallway led upward to what had once been a lookout tower, long ago converted into a workspace.

The mage used to sleep there, seldom going to his cottage in the town. Perhaps he’d chosen to stay tonight or changed his habit to sleeping in the castle all the time, especially considering the new prisoner.

Kerric didn’t bother knocking, simply opening the door and entering with all the swagger he could muster. With all his spells, wards, and what-not, no sneaking up on Miisov.

Miisov sat at a desk in his workroom, where all the walls were hidden by shelves filled with books, potion bottles, and talismans. A dusty, unlit chandelier hung from the beamed ceiling, though only a small lantern on the table glowed with fire from the single candle within. Discreetly placed mage lights added illumination.

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