Page 29 of Immortal Sentry

He glanced up from the book he’d been reading. “Took you long enough,” he said, with no heat. “From what I surmise, you visited our guest first.”

Kerric swallowed hard. He wanted to launch himself at this infuriating man who’d kept him imprisoned in stone for so long.

Miisov held up a staying hand. “Before you unleash your anger on me, let me assure you everything I’ve done has been for a reason, which will all become clear to you in time.”

“I’ve perched on top of the castle for twelve fucking summers. Do you have any idea how many birds shat on me? One even built a nest in my wings. Wasn’t that time enough?”

“You haven’t been alone.”

“Some of my men toppled themselves off the roof to keep from spending another moment imprisoned.” Kerric himself felt moments of temptation.

Miisov tutted. “Were you able to move? Could you have thrown yourself off the roof?”

“I never tried.” Considered the option? Yes. Tried it? No.

“A few rowdy soldiers helped your men off the roof. One fell on a priest. The soldiers have been dealt with. I must caution you not to try leaving the premises, or else you’ll make the curse permanent for you and your men.” Miisov continued, “There was quite an uproar about the priest. I would have prevented the deaths if I could.”

“Does the false king have enemies?” Bain’s enemies might very well become Kerric’s allies.

Miisov’s grin could frighten even a gargoyle. “This kingdom has become a nest of vipers. Ruling through fear is only effective for a time. Lothan ruled by earning respect, though he still had the occasional rival, covetous old fools who wanted what was his.”

So, Kerric’s men hadn’t died of despair after all. “What of the thief in the cells? I’ve watched him work. He’s too cunning to be so easily caught.”

“I may have had a hand in that.” Miisov gazed at the floor.

Kerric launched himself across the room, grabbing the collar of Miisov’s robe. “You bastard. Don’t you know they’ll kill him?”

“They’ll do no such thing.”

“But surely, they see the resemblance to Crown Prince Dafron. Is this Lothan’s bastard child, or could it be his younger son, Prince Eron?”

Miisov smiled inside his ample beard. “That you can see him for himself proves you have no desire to cause harm. Any who mean him ill will see a glamor that makes him plain and uninteresting. They also won’t find the stone he carries to ensure the glamor.”

“His coming here broke my curse. If that is so, why aren’t my men free?”

“The curse is only partially broken. You are free because he needs you to be, though the curse isn’t entirely gone. You are still confined to the castle until Eron takes the throne.”

“How can he take the throne? He’s an uneducated highwayman. He doesn’t know courtly ways or how to run a kingdom.” Dafron learned to take his father’s place as king, but the younger son had been only a child, just starting his schooling.

“Ah, but he does. He has been raised to rule as surely as Dafron. He also has his mother’s compassion and, with experience, will rival his father for wisdom. Right now, Prince Eron needs you. In time, he’ll need your men. None of you will be truly free until he’s king.”

Kerric lowered his voice to a low growl. “Couldn’t you simply break the curse? You created it.”

“It is not so easy. Cursing you to stone was the only way to save your life, as I knew you’d be needed one day, and you didn’t deserve death. It also showed what the arrogant usurper took as loyalty to him, thus allowing me to live and stay in the castle where I could put things in motion. But I created the spellhastily, so it wasn't my best work.” Miisov abruptly changed the subject. “So, you’ve met with Prince Eron, have you?”

Prince Eron. The prince truly lived. Kerric’s mind whirled, and he slapped a hand against a shelf to steady himself. “Yes, though he said his name is Edry.”

“Did you let on that you knew his true identity?”

“No.” Though Eron must’ve noticed Kerric’s shock upon seeing his face.

“Please don’t. Befriend him, but he must remain in the castle. He cannot be free.”

Kerric barked a bitter laugh. “He’s as much a prisoner as I to whatever vision of the future you have, you old goat. What if I want no part of it?”

Miisov narrowed his eyes, bunching his bushy white brows. “You would turn your back on King Lothan, our last true king, and his son, who is the rightful heir?”

“Lessa is the second child. Why not involve her?” Women often ruled in Kerric’s homeland of Splosia, Dillane, too. But Herix was neither of those.

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