Victor sprang out of the chair and started for the foyer at Lam's words, brushing past her. His mind raced, trying to make sense of what she’d said. As he hurried toward the front door, he gave voice to his questions, “What do you mean? What betrayal?”

Lam and Valla were right behind him, and Lam said, “Not sure! I came to get you immediately. He’s talking to Sarl.” Victor’s mind continued to spin, dark scenarios playing out—had Kethelket’s people betrayed him? Had he failed to root out all of Belikot’s loyalists? Was Prince Hector about to gain some new followers with intimate knowledge of Victor’s military structure, positions, and capabilities?

Victor stepped out of his house, planning to jog up to the ramparts, but found himself face-to-face with Kethelket. “I need to speak to her!” He growled by way of greeting. His face was streaked with blood, soot, and grime, and his dark, depthless eyes looked unusually strained.

“Who?”

“The undead witch. She lied, and my people die as a result!” Victor noticed one of his longswords was naked in his hand, blade pointed down beside his leg. “I need answers!”

“Woah! Tell me what happened first, Captain.” Victor hoped the use of his honorary title would ground the man, but Kethelket only scowled further.

“There were no giant abominations, no heavy reinforcements coming this way. Instead, we faced great winged monstrosities in their hundreds. Thousands! They came upon us from the south as we lit our flames. We saw the moon and the green star fade from view as their wings darkened the night sky, and then they were upon us. My people, Victor! The last of our kind! Less than half of us won free!” While he spoke, Victor gazed upward, scanning the parapets, wondering where this horde of flying monstrosities was; why weren’t they attacking the keep?

“Where are they?”

“That’s your question? My people die, we become extinct before your eyes, and you seek to verify my tale?”

“No, Kethelket!” Victor growled, the man’s fury sparking a similar emotion to life in Victor’s heart. “I’m trying to determine if we need to brace for an attack!”

“As we broke free, those of us who could, they fell back, flying south, away from the burning forest. They clutched my kin, paralyzed, in their talons!”

“Valla, Lam, get in touch with Borrius and Rellia. I’ll need an update when I come out. Kethelket, come with me.” Victor waited a moment to lock eyes with Valla, to see her nod in understanding, and then he stepped into his house. With Kethelket striding beside him, he hurried downstairs to the room where Victoria was being held.

“Stand aside,” Kethelket growled as they approached the door to her room, and his men hurried out of their way. Victor pulled the door open and stepped inside. He’d been half expecting Victoria to be gone, dead, or something equally vexing, but he found her sitting on her chair, a look of surprise evident as he and Kethelket strode into the room. He saw Kethelket lift his sword, blue flickers of Energy dancing over the dark metal, but Victor held out an arm, barring the man from pressing too close to his prisoner.

“Victoria,” he said, hoping to get ahead of Kethelket’s burgeoning outburst. “Tell us about Hector’s flying troops.”

“His flying . . .”

“Gray, hairless, yellow eyes, wings that make Victor’s arm span seem small!” Kethelket growled, lifting the point of his sword and gesticulating with it as though to punctuate his words. Victor had never seen the man, usually so calm and cool with his advice, agitated like that.

To her credit, Victoria didn’t flinch before Kethelket’s rage. She didn’t shrink back from his sword point. She looked Victor in the eye and said, “You describe creatures belonging to Baron Dunstan. He’s a creature similar to Eric Gore Lust. A type of vampyr, though he dubs his creatures, his followers, wampyr—in their monstrous form, they have wings and can fly. He holds the keep south of here, south of this forest on the shores of the Silver Sea.”

“Silver Sea?” Suddenly, Victor felt stupid. Why hadn’t he made Victoria draw a map depicting what she could of the Marches?

“A great body of water that borders the western edge of these lands.” She turned to Kethelket and said, “You’d be able to see it, flying out over the forest, if not for the fog Hector has summoned to obscure and poison his lands.”

“Why did you not warn us of these flying fiends? Why did you spin tales of hulking monstrosities bound to the ground?” A note of desperation hung in Kethelket’s words, and Victor knew the man was strained to the breaking point. What must it be like to know that you were in charge of the remnants of an entire species? What must it be like to know that each time you flew out to do the bidding of a giant stranger, you risked extinction? As he examined his use of the Naghelli in that light, Victor felt shame, even though Kethelket and his kin had insisted they wanted to help.

“I wasn’t trying to hide anything! I answered the questions Victor asked of me! I thought it most likely Hector would send his heavy champion, Karl the Crimson, to face his might.” Though she answered Kethelket’s question, her pale blue eyes locked with Victor’s.

“Why did he take my people alive? Are they doomed?” Kethelket had lowered his sword, and his voice had lost much of its angry edge, though a note of desperation still clung to his words.

“He’s a fiend, sir.” Victoria looked Kethelket in the eyes, and Victor saw his rage continue to cool as the ancient Naghelli saw the genuine sympathy in her expression. “He will torment and torture them. He’ll turn as many as he can into followers and feed upon the rest.”

“How many of these ‘wampyrs’ are there?” Victor growled.

“I’m not sure. I’m sorry, but I never set foot in Dunstan’s lands, not here and not back on Dark Ember. Hundreds? I doubt it can be much more than a thousand; otherwise, he’d be too hard for Hector to control. He’s a very powerful creature. Much stronger than Eric or me. He holds the largest of the outer keeps, a great, double-walled castle that backs up to a cliff beside the sea. He bragged at great length the last time Hector called us to a council, describing great winding tunnels and sea caverns that open up in its depths.”

“Then I must go.” Kethelket turned, sliding his sword into its sheath and moving toward the door.

“Hold, Kethelket.” Victor put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m coming with you.”

Victoria peered at Victor, narrowing her eyes. “If he took your people, there’s a chance they may yet live, though for how long, I don’t know. Do you have time to march an army to his keep? It’s thirty leagues or more from here, and the terrain isn’t easy—forests and hills before you can descend toward the sea.”

“I can make it fast. The army will remain here.” Victor had never told Victoria about his strategies before. She didn’t know that he only commanded a small part of their overall army here in the Black Keep. She didn’t know that Borrius and Rellia were elsewhere, hopefully winning another conflict with the bulk of the legion. He didn’t intend to change that, just on the off chance that she might have some way of communicating with Hector or his people, just in case she might yet betray him.

“I can help you! I have magic tailored for such a challenge, Victor! Let me prove myself to you!” She saw his eyes narrow with doubt, saw that he was about to shut her down, and desperately pressed on. “I can hide you from his wampyrs. I can get you past his wards without alarming him! We can get to your people without his entire army learning of your presence and putting themselves in your way or, worse, slaughtering the prisoners before you can reach them.”

The last point struck a note, and Victor glanced at Kethelket, hoping the older man would have an opinion. He frowned and nodded, “I have confidence in my ability to win past his guards, but I’m not sure I could find my people without raising an alarm. If she can do as she claims, perhaps . . .”

“I can move quickly, too! I can take on an incorporeal form and fly beside your friend here.”

“You can?”

“Yes! Please, Victor, let me help you! Let me earn some bit of trust from you and your people. I do you no service languishing, imprisoned. Let me help you against Prince Hector with more than simple information. I’m doomed if he wins this war, so let me aid in his destruction!”

Victor frowned and rubbed at his chin. He could feel Kethelket’s agitation; the man wanted to be moving, and he couldn’t blame him. His people were in grave danger, and every second they lingered here, deliberating, put them at further risk. If he trusted this woman, this undead creature, to help him, then he was risking her betrayal. And so what if she betrayed him? Was he so worried about her that he’d refuse a chance to save a hundred or more of Kethelket’s people? “All right. Walk with us, and do not use your Energy until you’ve cleared it with me. Every time.” He stared at her until she nodded.

“Understood.”

Victor left the room, glanced at the guards, and said, “You can return to normal duty for now.” With Kethelket and the Death Caster in tow, he walked out of his home, only to find Edeya, Valla, Lam, and Sarl waiting for him right outside. The sky was aglow with orange light, the fog in the air strangely illuminated, amplifying the glow of the fires raging through the forest surrounding the keep. When Valla laid eyes on Victoria, she hissed and drew Midnight. “Easy.” Victor jerked a thumb at Victoria in her layered, gauzy black dress and robes. “She’s going to help me and Kethelket rescue his people and, I suppose, kill another of Hector’s barons.”

“What?” Victoria and Valla both asked. Valla frowned and glared at the undead woman, and Victor turned to her with a raised eyebrow. Victoria stammered, “You didn’t mention killing Dunstan!”

“Yeah. We'll capture the keep once we get Kethelket’s people free.” Victor shrugged as though it made perfect sense. Kethelket nodded, locking his dark eyes on Victor’s; he was in agreement.

“Why infiltrate an enemy keep if you don’t intend to do the most damage possible?” Kethelket grinned savagely, perhaps savoring the idea of some payback.

“He’s very strong, Victor.” Victoria clenched her pale, long-fingered hands before her, clearly feeling some regrets.

“I’ll come as well,” Valla said, surprising no one.

“I have to get through those flames, Valla.” Victor gestured to the orange sky. “I’ll probably have to dismount and do some leaping; you know I’m not as sensitive to heat and fire as . . . others are.” She knew he meant her, and she opened her mouth, prepared to argue, but he could see she was struggling to find the words to convince him.

“Perhaps I could cloak myself in winds and hurry through . . .”

“Those forests blaze with a terrible fury,” Kethelket said, “not just a narrow band of flame, but miles of inferno. I could try to carry you past them.” He folded his arms and looked past Valla into the courtyard where some of his people sat, drinking water and recovering from their ordeal. “I could order a pair of my people to transport you via a harness . . .”

“No. No, it’s fine. I must accept that I can’t always rush into battle with Victor. What shall the rest of us do while you’re gone?”

“I can probably fly past the flames,” Lam interjected.

“So could I,” Edeya was quick to add.

Lam frowned at her. “I think not, Edeya! Your new wings are strong, but you’ve never flown more than a few hundred yards.”

“Relax, you guys!” Victor growled, his agitation rising with every second he delayed his departure. “I need you all to stay with the army. There’s a chance that not all the undead will die in this fire. There’s a chance yet another army is coming to attack this keep. I want you to hold it, but don’t claim it yet. Hector has to be wondering why we don’t; he may assume we don’t have enough people here to do so and send others to take control, in which case we’ll need strong people here to help the Ninth battle them off. They may have a champion or two, hell they might send that big asshole Victoria already warned us about. Valla, Lam, it’ll be on you guys to defeat or hold him off until we finish our mission.”

He looked at Kethelket, saw the agreement in his eyes, and continued, “We need to go. Every second we stand around, the captured Naghelli are more at risk.” He looked at Victoria and then Kethelket. “You two fly. Now. I’ll meet you due south of here, beyond the forest. I think you’ll see me coming.” Kethelket didn’t wait for further instruction. He leaped into the air with a blur of black wings, flickering with the ochre light of his Energy.

Victoria said, “Cover your ears. For your protection.” When Victor and the others did so, she took a deep breath and then shrieked in a weird, horrible, multi-voiced cry that echoed off the courtyard walls, and then white, misty Energy burst out of her, washing the color out of her flesh and giving it a strange translucent nature. She looked like a ghost. Without moving her lips, she spoke in a strange, disembodied, echoing voice, “I will await you beyond the flames. Thank you for your trust.” Then she streaked into the air, quickly catching Kethelket and matching his pace.

“Roots!” Edeya said, watching her luminous, black-clothed form streak into the glowing orange sky.

“I hope you didn’t make a mistake . . .” Lam said softly, but Victor didn’t feel like justifying himself. He turned to Sarl.

“Command your soldiers well, Captain. Don’t lose this keep.” Sarl saluted without a word, his expression serious and dour. Victor turned to Lam, Valla, and Edeya. “I’m counting on you three. Keep in touch with Borrius and Rellia . . . Shit! Any word from them?”

Edeya brightened, and she spoke excitedly, “Yes! They had just captured the fortress south of Old Keep when another army arrived, perhaps meaning to add to the garrison there. The forces he described sounded a lot like the army we first met when you were scouting—shamblers, ghouls, giant skeleton drummers. They hurled themselves mindlessly at the walls, and the legion destroyed them.”

“Borrius wants to keep pushing. He’s sent scouts out looking for the next objective,” Valla added.

“Okay. Okay, you guys. I’m sorry I have to leave right now, but I think this might pay off. I think we'll be in a great position if I can keep this Dunstan guy busy or kill him. That’ll mean we have control of four of the five perimeter keeps, and a lot of Hector’s troops will be dead, or, I guess, more dead. Destroyed. After the fire’s gone and you’ve assessed things here, go ahead and claim the keep, Valla.”

“I’ll record any awards.” Edeya held up her logbook. Victor had almost forgotten about that. The System would give them another chest when they claimed the Black Keep. “Did Rellia claim the other keep? The one they just took?”

“Yes. They’re calling it Rust Keep on account of it having an outer wall made from some kind of iron alloy. The bottom half of it is stained orange with rust.” Lam shrugged. “Not a very pretty or creative name, but it’s in keeping with the names you’ve chosen so far.”

“They aren’t permanent! Just for keeping track . . .” Victor shook his head, dismissing the topic. “I need to get going.” He began to reach into himself, preparing to sever his connection to the Alter Self spell, allowing himself to expand to normal proportions and power, but Valla rushed forward and grabbed him into a hug. Victor hugged her back and winked over her head at Edeya and Lam, who both smiled and turned away, leaning close to whisper. Sarl saluted again and walked across the courtyard, calling for his lieutenants. Victor appreciated the courtesy, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t trying to hide his feelings for Valla anymore.

“Hush,” he said, despite her silence. He put his hands on the sides of her face and tilted her head away from his chest so he could look into her eyes. “We’ll be back together soon. As much as you might worry about me, you know I’m worried about you, all right? Stay safe, and don’t do anything crazy. This is just a keep. Hold it if you can, but don’t give your life for it.”

Her brows creased, her eyes narrowed, and she said, voice firm, “I won’t abandon any soldiers here. You know that.”

“Yeah, I know.” Victor hugged her again, happy she hadn’t asked him to promise anything. “I’ve gotta go.” He let go and kissed her softly once, then he opened the floodgates of his Core and cast Iron Berserk. As he surged in size and power, he summoned Guapo. The glorious Mustang burst out of a pool of shimmering golden Energy, whinnied loudly, and rose up on his hind legs, pawing the air with his front hooves. “That’s my boy,” Victor laughed.

“He’s something,” Valla chuckled, and though she tried to make it nonchalant, Victor saw her wipe the back of her hand at the corner of her eye. He reached down with his gigantic hand and gently took her tiny palm between his thumb and fingertips, giving it a soft squeeze. She sniffed, nodded, and smiled at him, and then he turned and sprang atop his stallion. As Guapo’s hooves thundered over the black stones, he roared, “Open the gate!”