Chapter 10

The Beggar

Idiot.

Terrill couldn’t say whether his stray thought was meant for himself, chastising him over mentioning something that had just been deemed unmentionable, or for the soldier who was clearly dumb enough to think he was a spy. Either way, he couldn’t ignore the clanking of the chain that connected him to Krysta. The longer he looked, the more it appeared to be one of the magic-sealing handcuffs from Serotin. Krysta’s wrist jiggled with the new attachment, frowning at it, as though that would break it off.

Terrill sighed deeply.

“We’re not spies,” he said. The bearded man at the table expressed his own doubt over the accusation. “Just travelers who arrived from the south.”

“Yeah, right. That’s what any spy would say!” the soldier said, tightening the manacles to pull the duo closer. “No one but an Invarian spy would be asking around about the Wind Fortress. Everyone knows that’s been their endgame for some time now, the snakes.”

“I don’t even know what a Wind Fortress is!” Terrill protested, but the soldier was having none of it. He gripped the chain by its centerpiece and began to drag the two. Krysta was the first to dig her heels into the ground, refusing to go anywhere.

“He’s not lying. If we were spies, would we really draw attention to ourselves by dancing in a crowd?” she said. The soldier was unaffected by her pleas, and with a jerk, managed to get her moving. The men at the table, aside from the drunk Beasley, shook their heads as if it was a sight they were used to. Paranoia, Terrill called it, but he supposed the soldiers were just doing their jobs.

“I wouldn’t fathom to know how spies work, but we know we have our fair share of them. How else would our ships and convoys be attacked?” Another yank of the chain sent the two stumbling. Terrill stopped looking at those gathered outside the tavern, just as Walter stepped outside to watch the scene with a quirked eyebrow. Everyone else in the square gave them a wide berth, the music dying down for an agonizing minute. “If that’s been your nasty business, I’m sure we’ll find out through some advanced interrogation. In fact, come to think of it, you look familiar…”

“Can’t see how that’s possible when I’ve never been in Valorda before.” Terrill’s assertions, like every other word he and Krysta were speaking, flew right over the soldier’s head. He just clanked forward in his armor, a lone bastion of justice. No one stopped him, but no one came to help him out, either.

The conclusion, to Terrill, was that this had become a common occurrence of late.

Realizing he’d get nowhere by continuing to fight this stubborn man, Terrill attempted to fold his arms, only for Krysta’s arm to slap against his chest. He apologized, and their arms swung down between them, both choosing to keep in step with the man. Said soldier was nervous, and Terrill saw he was young, perhaps even younger than Terrill by a year or so. This was a frightening time for him, and the suspicions he and the other soldiers must have had about Invarian spies felt like a very real thing.

Terrill leaned in to Krysta and whispered, “We know we’re not spies, so why don’t we go along with this and throw him a bone.”

“And if we end up in prison?” she said back, the heat of her breath making Terrill uncomfortable for a second.

“We’ll figure something out. Not like this hasn’t happened to me before…” His scrunched eyes must have made quite the impression on Krysta, because she laughed. “I’m getting the sense me being handcuff buddies with someone is a trend. Just don’t tell Floyd I said that.”

“Never.”

“Hey, quiet down! You’re under arrest, remember?!” Terrill shrugged, now more amused than miffed, and he fell in step with the soldier’s unflinching walk.

Only a few minutes after they left the square did Terrill realize where the man was dragging them off to. It wasn’t some small prison for the local drunks, or a guard outpost where they’d put them to cool off. No, what loomed before them was the castle that sat in the very center of the city. Terrill’s eyes widened.

Just as he’d commented about the city comparative to his home country, the castle in Valorda was no different. While seeing it from a distance was impressive enough, seeing it up close made Terrill pause for a moment with awe. From its gleaming towers and turrets, to its arched bridges and wings, all the way to the grand, outdoor staircase that led to a double set of beautiful oak doors, it was a masterpiece of architecture. Highlighted by the river that encircled the castle, with bridges as chokepoints to anyone that would hope to approach it, Terrill soaked it in.

He was glad to have experienced this moment.

Then the moment was lost when the soldier pulled the pair along once again. He didn’t take them up the stairs when they finished crossing the bridge, but rather to the right side, where some large corridors, befit with numerous doors, spanned the bottom tier of the castle. From the number of soldiers coming and going, Terrill began to guess that it was their barracks, but he didn’t look inside before the soldier reached a larger door, and beyond it, a deeper, darker staircase. Now, the soldier preferred them go first, yanking Terrill’s sword from his back, as well as the scabbard that held Krysta’s rapier before pushing them forward.

He wasn’t very good at his job, Terrill felt, but the opportunity to be this close to the castle, and the one who could put a halt to the incoming war, made Terrill’s blood race. It was worth getting arrested, just for this.

Terrill felt a jab in his back from Krysta’s scabbard, and he kept his feet moving, side-by-side with Krysta while they descended the torchlit stairway to the stone room that awaited them at the bottom. All they needed was a second to tell that this was a prison, with three wings spreading out behind the doors. One of the doors was open, showing the line of cells, most of which were unoccupied, but Terrill didn’t get much before an emerging soldier slammed it shut, approaching the lonely desk in that stone hall. He seemed to notice their presence, and gave a tired sigh.

“What did you pick them up for this time?” The young soldier that had dragged the pair in snapped his body into a salute while his superior sat at the desk. He looked bored.

“I believe these two to be Invarian spies! They were mentioning the Wind Fortress!”

“Uh-huh…” The longer Terrill listened, the more it became clear that this warden of the castle cells was intelligent, but far from concerned about spies that happened to be so blatant on the streets. “Well, good work, kid. Back to your rounds.”

“Oh, uh. Sir, yes sir!” With a clatter, the boy had dropped their swords and the clothing they had bought. The man at the desk groaned, not wanting to move at all, but pulling himself from his seat to grab said objects and shove them into a corner along with other discarded items.

“The kids drafted into the army these days. No respect for decorum. Wasting our time with spies when the Wind Fortress is the least of our concerns. Now, the border at Pravado! That’s something that warrants the attention. What a mess.” The man was mumbling to himself, leaving Terrill and Krysta all but forgotten as they stood there and watched him hobble around with continual grumbles.

With nothing better to do, Terrill stared around the tiny room they were in, identifying a couple chairs and a hanging keyring. The silence was surprising, as Terrill figured there would be more complaints from the cells, but no one seemed to be making them. More surprising, though, was a poster that Terrill noticed on the walls with four rather crudely drawn pictures, as if taken from a spotty memory.

One of them looked like him.

A distorted him, but a him nonetheless.

Terrill tried to get a closer look, but Krysta yanked him back by their joined chain, shaking her head. The sound finally captured the soldier’s attention, and without preamble, he kicked two chairs over to the desk, ordering them to sit.

“So…espionage, is it?” the man asked, propping his feet on his desk while he flicked through some papers. His eyes would flick over to the poster on the walls from time to time, and Terrill clenched in the nervousness of being correlated with…whatever the charges were. The man never seemed to make the connection. “What’s your interest in the Wind Fortress, kids?”

Terrill wasn’t sure how to answer, and he was momentarily distracted by the clanking of armor at the top of the stairs. It was loud and echoing, and Terrill wondered if some horrible incident had already occurred. Krysta took the silence to her advantage. “We just heard it mentioned. First time we’d ever heard of it, and my husband grew curious.”

That old lie, huh…Terrill thought to himself, though he found it amusing that he was now her husband instead of her fiancé. “We were traveling north, and happened to come in town for the festival. One of the drunks mentioned the place and-” Krysta jerked his hand, causing him to change topics away from that of Lumen. “And it sounded something fantastical. Was curious.”

“South, huh? You from Ardoris?” It took a moment to measure his response, but Terrill acted quick enough to shake his head in denial. It wasn’t a lie, at the very least. “Hm, just that you look a bit familiar, and Ardoris was the site of an attack on our ambassadors. One of the perpetrators was seen in the country north of here about a week ago, but we lost sight of him at the Forsaken Hill. Our soldiers avoid that place if they can.”

The warden was clearly chatty, but Terrill didn’t mind it. His words had revealed a rather fortunate truth: Floyd was in Valorda. Still, he didn’t ask questions, fearful of being lumped in with the label that was now being slapped on Floyd (and perhaps the rest of them). The meaning of the wanted posters was now made plain. “We’re not spies.”

“Oh, I believe you. More than half the people we bring in aren’t spies. Just people who the young’uns feel the need to have questioned to do their part. They’re on edge,” the warden said. He finished lazily flicking through his papers and tossed them aside on the desk. Footsteps could be heard rushing down the stairs. “Truth be told, I doubt there was even an attack on our ambassadors or who perpetrated it, but it’s hard to know what to trust when Invaria’s navy is marshaling. Always best to take precautions, because you never know when you might be right. So, just sit tight for a little bit to help make that soldier feel successful and I’ll send you on your-”

“Warden!” The owner of the footsteps made his appearance, huffing and puffing as his clanking armor made noise with every subtle movement. Terrill twisted his head, longing to rip the offensive poster off the wall, but staring at the new arrival. He was dressed different from the soldiers in town, wearing a special crest upon his breastplate.

“What is it, boy? There some riot in town that needs quelling?”

“He’s missing again.”

“Again?!” The warden was irate, tired and exasperated all at the same time. “What are you folks doing, letting him slip off again?! We’re on the edge of a war and you’re letting him go missing!”

“I’m sorry, sir! He slipped out after a conference… Well, the ministers are furious. You’re the one who knows the castle passages best, and it’s possible he hasn’t made it into town.”

“Yes, yes. You need my help, as always. Learn to do your own jobs for once instead of leaving it to we elderly.” Terrill hardly considered the warden as elderly, especially with the strength the man showed to lift both he and Krysta off the chairs. “You’ll have to forgive me, but as you can see, we’re a bit busy today. Our cells are maintained just fine, so in the meantime, as you are still arrested, I’ll need to have you wait there.”

It was no good protesting, so Terrill didn’t even bother when the man opened the door he had come through earlier. With grunts, he jostled them along to one of the empty cells, and pushed them both inside. In moments, he was gone, and the cell block was bathed in silence. Terrill finally let a word slip as his foot kicked at the iron bars.

“Damn it.” The collision of his foot against the cell caused pain to shudder through his toes, and Terrill withdrew, falling to the floor. Krysta was dragged down with him, both of them sitting on a surprisingly clean surface. There was no telling how long they’d be stuck here now.

“What now, Terrill?” He had no good answer to Krysta’s question, glaring up and down the row of cells. There were a few people in them, but not many, and most of them looked like him: travelers with not a hint of spy in them. He supposed that people like the town drunkard didn’t get the special permission to visit the castle cells, unless one counted the raggedly robed man in the corner of the cell next to theirs. The snores made him one to discount, however. Terrill huffed, grunting as pain shot back through his arm and shoulder, the grimace appearing on his face. “It’s your arm, isn’t it?”

“I’m fine.”

“Somehow, I’m not so sure about that,” Krysta said. She tried to fold her hands in her lap, forgetting that Terrill was attached to her. “Those flames…they weren’t the same as his normal ones. I tried my best to heal you but…it felt like there was something left behind. My magic isn’t perfect.”

“It’s good enough,” Terrill said. He couldn’t deny the aches he’d felt, something that prevented his wound from fully healing, but while he couldn’t figure out just what it was, he was grateful to be able to move his arm without excess pain. She needed to know that. “Least you didn’t have to cut my arm off. Although, right now we’re cut off. Stuck in a jail cell with no way of seeing the king.”

“Without Floyd, that was never to be an easy task.” The snoring had stopped, and with it, so had Krysta’s words. They were no longer alone, and neither was willing to talk about events that would paint them as criminals or just plain delusional. Krysta scooted closer to Terrill, their bodies pressing up against each other. “We know Floyd’s in the country, though, so we each must have landed somewhere on Gladius.”

“The real question is what Atrum is up to. Other than a possible frame-up for the events at the Resort, he doesn’t look to have had any hand here in Valorda.”

“Mm,” Krysta vocalized. Her eyes darted to the side, to where the robed man had sat up, blinking and smacking his lips. He seemed to be watching them, and Terrill avoided his piercing gaze. Ragged his clothes may have been, but just a single look confirmed how sharp his eyes were.

“What are you two in for?” he asked, his throat attempting to sound groggy, as if he hadn’t been feigning his snoring.

“Tourism,” was Krysta’s response. The man continued smacking his lips, reaching up to his rather impressive beard and stroking it. He yawned, shaking his hood from his head, and Terrill saw a glint beneath the folds of his cloak.

“North or south?” They didn’t answer. “Where you come from, I mean?”

“Why do you care?” Terrill snapped. Their fellow inmate blinked once again and shrugged, pretending that he didn’t care.

“Humor an old man. It can get lonely with no one to talk to.” They really didn’t want to humor him. “You mentioned a name. Atrium? No…” The man descended to mumbles, trying to work through what name he’d heard them whisper to themselves. Terrill took the opportunity to turn himself and Krysta in the man’s direction, getting a better view of this supposedly old man that had been tossed in the dungeons. It might have worked on Terrill, too, if he wasn’t so incongruous with the other few inmates. “Ah! Atrum! Yes! Heard that name before.”

“Oh, yeah? From where?” Terrill asked. Krysta yanked on their chain, trying to shut him up, but Terrill shot her a shrug that said he was indeed now planning on humoring the man. Though the way his beard jiggled on his face suggested he wasn’t exactly “old”.

“Another boy came and visited the castle. Had a similar sounding name, claimed to be from the royalty of Sayn.” Terrill scrunched his eyes, the suspicion radiating off of him in waves. The man held his hands up. “I’m not crazy, I swear.”

“This boy,” Terrill started, bolting forward so that he was now at the bars that divided them, “what did he look like?”

“Er…blond? Yeah, blond. It looked like he had been through some stuff, though. Was looking for some friends of his.” Terrill fell back, only to feel Krysta tug on his wrist for having dragged her forward, as well. “Do you know him?”

“I might.”

“Terrill.” Krysta’s hiss dragged him back, their faces against each other. It was too close for Terrill’s comfort, but she wouldn’t let him retreat. “What are you doing?”

“Gathering information. I think he might be talking about Lumen.”

“Ah, yes, he did say his name was Lumen! Castle guards didn’t believe him, but I saw it. He visited the king.” Now the joke was becoming too much for Terrill, and even Krysta quirked an eyebrow, having figured it out herself.

“Yes, I’m sure you’d know all about that. King Phillip, I presume?”

“No. Just an old man,” he said. Terrill had to hand it to him: he kept his composure very well for being accused of his true identity. Were it not for the obviously fake beard falling off his face, Terrill might have believed it, too. However, that damning evidence along with his far too intimate knowledge of visitors to the castle gave the game away.

Krysta laughed. “Your beard is slipping, Your Majesty.”

“Huh?” The old man reached up, his cloak falling off his figure to reveal the finery of his royal outfit beneath, while he realized his beard was half off his face. He also saw that his usual clothing had been exposed, and with pouty lips he uttered, “Well, drat. Here I thought my disguise was flawless. How did you recognize me?”

“Um, have you seen the cells were in? They’re not for someone just off the streets,” Terrill pointed out, indicating someone actually sleeping in the cells just behind him. That man was better dressed, and to it, Phillip’s pout increased. “Your speech, too, and your knowledge of the castle. How would someone in prison know who the king met with?”

“Touché,” the king responded. He looked impressed, perhaps more than he should have been, and he came closer to the bars dividing them. Now that Terrill was closer, the king’s actual features, from his rather large nose to his intelligent green eyes, were put on full display, even in the dim cell block. “You’re sharper than you look, good sir. So, what were you two really thrown in for? Because I know you’re not tourists.”

Terrill and Krysta were unsure how much to say to this hidden king, their eyes attempting to communicate with one another so they could arrive at a satisfactory answer. Krysta was the one to relent, removing the ring of flowers from her head, and beginning to play with it. “We’re a married couple that goes around spying on Valorda so that Invaria can take over the world.”

Her deadpan delivery made Terrill take his good hand to slap his face. Phillip, at least, found it amusing.

“How very droll. I like it. Humor is good, and needed during wartime. Why do you think I disguised myself as a beggar and came to the cells? Never know what kind of things you can hear, and it makes the ministers wet themselves.”

“So, you’re what made the warden dump us in these cells to go looking for?”

“Ah,” Phillip said in realization before his apologetic smile made his teeth show, “yes, I might’ve slipped out without telling anyone. They keep me locked up in enough meetings and don’t let me leave the castle these days for fear of safety.”

“Must be such a difficult life.”

“You think I’m complaining for my life?” The king was taken aback, and Terrill regretted the words that left his mouth. The longer he spoke with the man, the more he realized he was a man wholly devoted to his country. His clothing reflected it, as now Terrill could see that despite its finery, it was hardly excessive. The only thing truly identifying him was the same crest he’d seen on the interrupting soldier’s breastplate, or his well-groomed, graying hair. “I prefer going out into the city proper to take stock of my people, but with Invaria set to invade any day now…”

“You mean you’re not an advocate for the war?” Krysta said, having joined Terrill at being close to the bars. “Er…Your Majesty?”

“Never have been, but…sometimes there are things beyond one’s control. Like a couple of children related to the ministers that go missing. Or destroyed shipments. I even hear the border town of Pravado was razed a few days ago, though the ministers don’t wish to distress me with such news.” The more he spoke, the more reasonable it sounded to Terrill that these two countries were on the verge of war…at least from Valorda’s perspective. Phillip sighed, looking exhausted just from rattling off the reasons for his stress. “To top it all off, Invaria has accused us of receiving weapon shipments from Serotin, and after the events on Ardoris, we can’t deny a weapons trade, though my ministers assure me that Serotin is not involved.”

“In other words, the war is out of your hands?” Terrill concluded. The king nodded at his fair assessment, keeping his eyes locked between the pair. It made Terrill feel uncomfortable, and Krysta voiced his other thoughts as soon as they came into his brain.

“And yet, you just rattled off every reason that’s been building this war as though it’s something we should know,” Krysta said. The king began to grin, grateful that the girl had caught on, which made Terrill even more suspicious. “You said you don’t think we’re tourists, but even a king who disguises himself as a beggar isn’t about to share state secrets with two people picked up from the street. So, I’ll return the question: who do you think we are?”

King Phillip couldn’t seem to help himself. His hands were brought together in a one-man’s show of applause for what the duo had discerned. The claps echoed around, attracting the attention of some people in the cells and Terrill began to wonder if any of them were actual spies.

“Very good, miss. You both don’t miss a beat, though I suppose I’m just not that good at going incognito. I’ve always been told I’m rather bad at lying and hiding things.” Phillip followed up with a laugh that ended on him reaching into his breast pocket and pulling out a sealed letter. Not that the letter was sealed anymore, and when Terrill looked closely, he could see the familiar stamp that belonged to Mayor Rainert of Serotin. “You two are part of the ambassador’s party, if I’m not mistaken.”

It was a leap in logic, Terrill believed, to assume that they were part of the ambassador’s party. Especially when said ambassador seemed to be running about the Valordan countryside making a nuisance of himself. For that very reason, Terrill regarded the already unusual king with a healthy amount of skepticism.

“And why would you believe that?” Terrill asked. Phillip winked at Terrill and came to stand, brushing off his clothes of the dust from the floor. He then strode to the door of his cell and, as expected of Valorda’s sovereign, unlocked it. He disappeared down the hall, leaving Terrill, Krysta, and anyone else paying attention to stare after him. One of the cells rattled, and Terrill had to guess that maybe there was some truth to the rumor of Invarian spies, wishing to take their shot at the king. They missed, in any case, and Phillip soon returned, holding to their belongings, as well as the warden’s keyring, which he used to unlock their cell. He didn’t return their stuff immediately.

What he did give them was the letter, which Terrill unfolded and read.

“Honestly, at first I just thought you were some people I could get information from,” Phillip explained while they read. “With how many potential spies my soldiers have been arresting from day to day, I always can get a pulse on the goings-on in the city and outside it from a more localized perspective. I thought you might have been the same.”

Terrill nodded, not paying all that much attention to the king’s words. The letter seemed legitimate, with Mayor Rainert’s handwriting scrawled all over it. It spoke of the ambassador’s party, led by Floyd and with a brief description of him. Then Terrill and Krysta were spoken of, and the mayor had done a rather adequate job of describing them. Coupling that with the reason a party was sent, owing to the rumors of a Shadow King trying to start a war, Terrill felt it made a very convincing introductory statement. It was when he reached the second letter in the set, this one dated later, that told Terrill their absence since the events at Kirdon had been noted, with the mayor writing that there was no clue where the party had gone, except for possibly south.

“It was when you mentioned that name that I knew there was more to you, and I recalled the letter I received from Serotin, who had mentioned something similar. I might not have put the pieces together were it not for my visitor.”

“Lumen Candoris-Regium, I presume?” Terrill asked.

“You know him.” That wasn’t a question, and with that, Phillip appeared to trust them implicitly. He tossed their weapons to them, along with the things they’d bought, before leaning and unlocking their manacles. Immediately, the king turned away to allow Krysta to change. She didn’t start with that, instead lamenting the sad state of her broken rapier from their earlier battle. Terrill sprung up, now free, and joined the king in the hall outside the cell.

“He’s a friend. Why did he come to visit you, Your Majesty?”

“He was looking for something,” Phillip explained, hands behind his back as he recalled their meeting with clarity. “The war is hardly a rumor. A slightest spark these days could cause irrevocable damage to our relationship with Invaria. It could be an earthquake, or a tidal wave, or the simple act of an unknown ambassador running about spouting things he shouldn’t. Your friend, Lumen, had heard much of these rumors and used his royal credentials to enter. Or so I presume; his clothes wore the royal insignia of Sayn.”

“Yeah, he’s mentioned he’s nephew to the king or something? I honestly don’t know him all that well, but we traveled together. Was he with an older man?”

“He was alone. That is why I found it so unusual and heard him out, despite my ministers’ express wishes.” Phillip looked for a place to sit and continue their conversation, but found nothing. Krysta then emerged from their cell at Terrill’s side, listening intently. “He mentioned that name, Atrum, and said he was fashioning himself a ‘Shadow King’, pulling the strings behind the war. Sounded ridiculous and fanciful.”

“And then you remembered Mayor Rainert wrote about it?”

“Indeed.” Phillip tousled his hair from its perfect style. “I could no longer dismiss him as some raving lunatic. And Lumen? He wanted a way to end the war, as well.”

“So…where is he now?” Terrill knew the answer, but hoped for a direction to point him towards his friend. Phillip was happy to provide it.

“South, across the O’Della Canyon. Seemed he got the idea of finding the Wind Fortress into his head, though I can understand why.” Phillip stopped his hands and made sure to look sharply at the pair before him. His hands stretched out, placing themselves atop their shoulders. “Invaria wants the Wind Fortress.”

Terrill couldn’t figure that part out; everything he’d heard in town pointed to this being a myth or legend, and yet the king was treating this location as a very real thing, enough to send Lumen chasing after it upon request. He scoffed. “Why would they want something from fantasy?”

“I couldn’t say. None of the ambassadors I’d sent to Invaria’s capital returned. That’s why we had a pair meet to go to Ardoris, but they were attacked en route, rendering our negotiations pointless.”

“So, that’s what it is, then?” Krysta said. Terrill waited for her own concluding remarks when she sighed. “Valorda is ready to go to war because of Invaria’s intentions to invade along with missing people. Invaria is ready to go to war for similar reasons and to obtain the power of the Wind Fortress. And Atrum, the Shadow King, is going to bring everyone else in by implicating them through alliances.”

“That sounds like an apt summary, young lady.” Terrill didn’t think Phillip was so old to be calling her that, but he appreciated that she had given him such an accurate summarization. “I’m afraid the only way this war can be stopped is if Invaria withdraws…or those legends somehow turn out to be real. If an independent force were to operate the Fortress, our nations may be convinced to not fight one another. Maybe. There is no guarantee.”

That was for certain, Terrill realized. He folded his arms, his sword slung once more on his back. A loud sound was heard from outside the door to the hall, and Terrill realized that it was very possible the warden would be checking on them. Phillip heard it, too, and his body tensed, while Terrill began to tap his foot with thought.

“Invaria…why would they need the power of the Wind Fortress in the first place? You guys have been at peace for a long while.”

“I don’t know,” was the candid response. “Like I said, no one we sent to Invaria returned, and I know Prince Ricardo is a just and benevolent man.”

“Then there’s a snake on the inside of Invaria.” Krysta had the right of it, confirmed by Phillip inclining his head in her direction. There was another clatter of footsteps and it began to sound like the warden was bringing a whole army to check the cells. Phillip wasted no more time. He swept back into the cell he occupied and made for the solid wall lining the back of it. Terrill and Krysta followed.

“I had honestly hoped to discuss things with Ambassador Margrove, himself,” the king said, his hands running along the stones. “Unfortunately, he never turned up, and then the wanted posters seemed to accuse him of an attack on Ardoris. I hoped they were wrong, until, lo and behold, people matching his party’s description show up in Valorda days after he was spotted. I don’t believe in that coincidence. Ah!”

Phillip found what he was searching for, a small panel that he pressed, causing the wall to recede just slightly, leaving an indent. With a grin, the king moved it aside, revealing a passage that led outwards and the sound of the castle’s running river echoing through it. He stepped aside to motion to it.

“I know, I must seem insane, or that I’m asking a lot.”

“The former, Your Majesty? Very much. Who goes around pretending to be a beggar and starts sharing state info with people they just met?!” Terrill said. However, he couldn’t help but admire the king’s zeal for his people and his willingness to put an end to the war before it began. It gave him hope that it was possible. “That said, you’re not asking a lot. We were coming with the express purpose of stopping this war, you know?”

“Well, then I’m sure both countries would be grateful to have you in their corners, Mr. Jacobs.” The king offered a hand that Terrill took, the firm grip giving Terrill comfort in the road ahead. “I want to see this put to an end without any other manipulation from this crafty ‘Shadow King’. It might sound like something out of a fairy tale, but it feels very, very real right now. I can work my end, but as part of Serotin’s ambassadorial party, I need to know what you intend to do.”

Another clang, and a bang against the door indicated that Phillip had locked it upon returning, buying time for Terrill to answer.

He was torn, finally having a bead on Lumen’s location, yet knowing that chasing after shadows and legends would yield less than stellar results. Then there was the sighting of Floyd. To the north.

To Invaria.

The choice became clear.

Sorry, Lumen. Hold on a moment longer.

“We’ll head for Invaria. If we can find out why they need to invade, maybe we can also stop others like Sagitta from getting involved. Plus, I think our ambassador might be in that direction.”

“Ah yes, we wouldn’t want him arrested before he can fulfill his duty.” The king gave a hearty chortle, one that Terrill and Krysta gave into before the door banged again. They were running short on time. “Looks like we need to leave. I don’t want to be caught here again, and you need to not be caught up in bureaucratic nonsense.” One last time, he reached into his breast pocket, and this time revealed a letter with a very different seal upon it: his seal. “I’d intended to give this to Ambassador Margrove, but I think you’ll be best in his stead. That should get you to see Ricardo…if you make it to Palace Invaria.”

“You’re sure about this?” Terrill asked, feeling on edge with every shudder against the door. Krysta seemed sure of herself, as she didn’t even wait for the king and Terrill to finish their discussions before ducking into the secret passage.

“I’m as sure as I can be, having just met you. For now, that’s good enough. Now don’t let me down.” He didn’t want to debate any further, and with a shove, Phillip pushed Terrill to join Krysta in the passageway beyond. They kept low, passing an offshoot that led to some hidden stairs and towards the beckoning light of the river beyond. Phillip stopped, and Terrill looked back to hear his parting words. “Good luck, Mr. Jacobs, Miss Krysta. I trust we’ll stop this war and this mysterious ‘Shadow King’ together. Be well.”

And a panel shut the two off from King Phillip, leaving them with one direction forward: Invaria.