Page 57 of Heirs of the Cursed

Four soldiers walked beside him. When they reached the center of the celebration, they split up and slipped into the shadows in search of suspicious activity. Ward made his way through the darker streets, weaving through citizens rushing toward the lively music of fiddles and drums until he arrived at the small store.

He kept his gaze on the small windows, where the flame of a candle faintly illuminated the interior. The needle of the compass in his hand came to a halt, revealing a deep crimson glow from the gems.

The commander smirked as he raised his boot to kick the door. The sound of the lock breaking from the hinges was music to his ears. One by one, the soldiers stepped inside with swords drawn, ready for whatever awaited them.

They crept through the store, careful not to touch anything. Ward inspected the objects, accompanied only by the sound of their weights creaking against the wooden floor. At the end of the dark hall, a dim light caught his attention. He motioned toward his soldiers to guard his back as they ventured forth.

The room was plunged into darkness, save for the three flames that, along with the stars, provided Ward with all the light he needed to see the old man. His one good eye glowed red, and his burnt eyelashes fluttered wildly, as if he were possessed by one of the demons from the tales meant to scare children into staying home at night.

What in the Akhirat is . . .

The question in the commander’s mind disappeared upon realizing what was before him.

Three blood-red candles.

An offering for each goddess.

As the wizard’s body lifted off the ground, Fawke Biceus lunged at him, shattering the altar of candles, gemstones and herbs to pieces. The small room was soon plunged into an eerie darkness, yet the light streaming from the compass allowed Ward to see his soldier wrapping his arm around the man’s before aiming for that throbbing spot with the sharp blade of his dagger.

“W-What’s . . .” the old man stammered as he emerged from his trance.

Ward ignored him and focused on his soldier instead. With an unspoken command, Fawke pulled the wizard upwards from his clothes and dragged him out of the store to interrogate him in one of the desolate alleys, away from the magic he could use against them.

After stowing the compass in his pants pocket, the commander followed them, with the other three soldiers at his heels. In theshadows of the alley, Fawke’s fist collided with the disoriented man’s face, the force of the blow instantly breaking his nose.

“What’s your name?” Ward asked in a cold voice.

“Dyron Selmi, sir,” he answered agitatedly, spitting saliva and blood on the cobblestone floor.

“I’ll tell you what’s going to happen next, Dyron Selmi. You will answer my questions and, in return, you get to live. If you refuse, my soldier here will finish what he started.”

“I will,” Fawke grinned, his face covered with drops of blood.

Ward took a step forward. “Now, what kind of witchcraft were you practicing?”

“It was nothing, I swear!” he assured him, stammering. Dyron shook his head in despair. “Just an innocent trick.”

“No trick involving the goddesses is innocent.”

“I’m sure you are an expert in the labors that make up your duties, but none of my actions pose any threat to you or the kingdom, Commander.”

“No, you know more than you admit.” Ward paced around him. “There’s certain information I need, and something tells me you will know the answers to my questions. Who bought them?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You know exactly what I mean.”

“I would never dare to deceive you or conspire against the Almighty King.”

Fawke Biceus smashed his fist into Dyron’s stomach, causing him to fold in half.

“I’m sure you’re aware of our mission,” the commander proceeded.

“The Dark Twins . . .”

“Indeed.” He nodded with his hands behind his back. “It’s odd that despite our best efforts, we still haven’t found them, wouldn’t you say? I can only find one reason for that.” He halted in front of the wizard. “Dark magic.”

“I wasn’t involved! I swear by the Triad.”

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