Tales of the Fallen Beasts Page 5

  “Guards!” the earl barked. “Do as my son says.” He leveled his steely gaze at Devin. “And throw this useless fool out on his ear.”

  Devin knew he’d messed up.

  It was a familiar feeling, but no more comfortable for that fact. It always happened the same way—he got angry, and then he got mean. And then when the anger eventually faded, he found himself regretting what he’d said and done.

  He’d found an inn that was crowded enough to allow him to blend in, but empty enough that he could have a table to himself. He sat alone, nursing a mug of chocolate he’d bought with one of his few remaining coins, and he wondered where he should go now.

  He couldn’t stay in Trunswick. With dark humor he realized he couldn’t afford the earl’s taxes.

  As Devin gazed out the window onto the darkening street, he saw a familiar face—one he would never have expected to see here. He scrambled up from the table and ran outside as the cloaked figure turned a corner at the end of the street.

  The crowds were just as thick as they’d been during the day, slowing Devin down. By the time he made it to the corner, all he found was an empty alleyway.

  He cursed. Then he turned around, and Karmo was standing there, blocking Devin’s exit from the alleyway.

  Devin and Karmo had been partners during the war. They had both been recruited by a man named Zerif, a high-ranking Conqueror with a vicious streak. But they’d failed on their first mission, and Zerif had abandoned them, leaving them imprisoned in a castle to the north.

  “Karmo.” Devin smiled. “I’m so glad to see you.”

  “I was just thinking the same thing,” Karmo said—and then he attacked.

  Karmo launched himself at Devin. The Niloan boy got in a punch—a solid right hook to the temple—before Devin could even get his hands up.

  Devin’s head snapped back, but he rolled with the blow, twisting around and grabbing Karmo’s wrists in an iron grip.

  Karmo was fast, but Devin was bigger and stronger. He squeezed.

  Then he felt a sudden tingling pain in his palms, as if he’d been shocked. He pulled his hands back, and Karmo took the opportunity to land a head butt.

  Devin saw stars. He brought his hands up to his aching face. “Just … just hold on,” he said.

  “That isn’t half of what you’ve got coming,” Karmo said.

  “Really?” Devin asked. “I thought we left on good terms.…”

  “You left!” Karmo countered. “You left me in prison, you idiot!”

  “My dad bailed me out,” Devin said. “And threw me right back into the war. Honestly, even if I could have brought you with me, I figured you were better off.”

  Karmo glared at him.

  “As prisons go, it wasn’t that bad,” Devin insisted.

  “I had to listen to MacDonnell coo at his rabbit for months, Devin. He made his musicians compose a heroic ballad about that rabbit, and he’d sing it wherever he went. It’s been stuck in my head for months.…” Karmo shuddered.

  “I’m sorry,” Devin said.

  Karmo seemed surprised by that. “You’re sorry?”

  “Yeah.”

  Karmo thought about it. He shrugged. “Okay.” He paused. “I’m sorry I hit you. I was angry.”

  “You should try counting to ten,” Devin offered. He rubbed his aching face. “What are you even doing here?”

  “You’re not going to like it,” Karmo admitted with a sigh. He leaned against the alley wall. “I’m here for Dawson. Zerif’s hunting Great Beasts. He’s found some way to … to steal spirit animals. Not just carry away, but sever the bond completely.”

  Devin’s blood went cold. “Is he here? Now?”

  “I don’t know.” Karmo slapped the wall. “But your father may as well have sent an invitation with as much noise as he’s been making about Dawson’s summoning. I’m working with … someone who has a bit of a grudge against Zerif. And since you and I have history, I thought I had the best chance of warning your father. He laughed in my face and threw me out.” He smiled. “But hey! Now you’re here. You can get a warning to your brother. Better yet, get him out of town. I can take him someplace safe.”

  “That … might be a problem. I’m not exactly welcome back home.”

  Karmo sighed dramatically. “Great. Of course. I’m no better off than I was before you showed up.”

  “Not true,” Devin said. “I can get to Dawson. I just need to get past my father’s guards.”

  Karmo shook his head. “From what I’ve seen, they’re loyal to him. And that’s lucky for him, because the rest of the town hates his guts.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Karmo said. “I’ve been here for two days, and I’ve overheard a lot. You know the woman in the stocks? She’s there for suggesting your father should be put on trial for war crimes. She’s not the only one who thinks so, but she said it the loudest.”

  “I didn’t realize,” Devin said softly. “I thought Dawson summoning a Great Beast had brought everyone together.”

  Karmo scoffed. “Your dad would like to think so. But the hurt runs too deep. He openly supported an invading army and imprisoned anyone who spoke out against it. Now he’s pretending like it never happened—but he’s nervous, so he brought on dozens of former Conquerors to beef up his personal guard. People have tried withholding taxes in protest, but he just sends the guards around to threaten them, which makes more people withhold taxes.…”

  “My father is a bully,” Devin said, realizing the truth as he voiced it. How had he never thought of it in those terms before?

  After all, Devin had been called a bully his entire life. And he wasn’t proud to admit it, but it had often been true. He’d pushed other kids around, teased them, threatened them.

  No wonder. He’d learned that behavior from his father. But the Earl of Trunswick was bullying hundreds of people all at once.

  “I think I’ve got an idea for how we can get to Dawson,” Devin said.

  “You think?”

  “Well, I definitely have an idea.” Devin rubbed his chin. “I’m just not sure if it’s a good one or not.”

  “It’s a bad plan,” Karmo said as they walked together through the crowd. “A very bad plan.”

  “Maybe,” Devin said. “But I know a thing or two about anger, and I think it’ll work.”

  “Devin.” Karmo gripped his shoulder. “Think it through, man. Once you push this boulder, it is rolling all the way downhill. I can try to tilt it one way or the other, but we won’t be able to stop it again if you change your mind.”

  “As long as the Earl of Trunswick is in that boulder’s path, I don’t care.”

  Karmo bit his lip, searching Devin’s face as if for any sign of hesitation. Finding none, he shrugged. “Whatever you say. I’ll be ready to move.”

  Devin nodded and made his way to the wooden platform he’d seen earlier in the day. The same woman was still in the stocks. She had a faraway look in her eyes and didn’t even seem to notice when Devin clambered his way onto the platform.

  The guard noticed, however. He stepped forward immediately, raising his pike as if to ward Devin off.

  “Stand down,” Devin said, and though he looked nothing like a noble, he sounded the part. “I’m here on behalf of my father, the earl.”

  The guard looked uncertain, but nodded and took a step back.

  Devin stepped to the woman. He held a waterskin to her lips and allowed her to drink her fill.

  “I’m going to get you out of there,” Devin whispered as she drank. “Hold on for just another few minutes.”

  The woman nodded as best she could, eyes sharp again, refreshed by the water.

  He stepped to the front of the stage.

  “People of Trunswick!” he called out, and whatever eyes weren’t already on him turned his way almost immediately. “My name is Devin. I’m the firstborn son of the earl, and I’m here on behalf of my father to welcome you in this time of celebration.”

&
nbsp; The crowd clapped politely, and Devin paused for a moment before continuing.

  “He’d come here himself, but he hates to get mud on his shoes.” Devin forced a chuckle, and there was an awkward echo of forced chuckles scattered throughout the crowd. “There certainly is a lot of mud down here, isn’t there?” he said to the guard, loud enough for everyone to hear.

  “Anyway,” he continued. “My father is a great and generous man. On the occasion of my own bonding, he gifted me with a gleaming belt buckle of purest silver. It was worth enough to feed a family for a month. I felt so grateful to him, knowing how many people were out there in the world starving while I wore silver around my waist.

  “He liked to joke that his mastiffs ate better than the townsfolk.

  “But his generosity doesn’t extend just to his family. No indeed. Did you know that he’s found work for the Conquerors? That’s right. They lost the war, but the earl has seen fit to hire dozens of them to act as his personal guard. Didn’t you notice how many soldiers have been in town lately? Didn’t you notice how they look at Eurans with disdain? It’s nothing personal. It’s just that they were our enemies in a war until recently. I’m sure they don’t hold any grudges, though.”

  Devin heard gasps from the crowd as he spoke, and could practically feel the heat as their gazes turned fiery. Still he pressed on.

  “It’s important to let grudges go if we’re to heal in the aftermath of the war,” Devin said. “I saw firsthand how my father was forced to lock up the people who disagreed with him when he first brought the Conquerors to Trunswick. I’m sure it was very upsetting for those of you who were temporarily jailed—or those whose loved ones were. But in hindsight, I think we can all agree that my father did the right thing and prevented anyone from getting hurt for what they believed in.”

  Devin grinned his most annoying grin. His father had once threatened to lock him in the Howling House for smiling at him this way.

  “My father’s always done a good job of looking out for the people of this town. That’s why he’s raising taxes later this year—it’s only at a great expense that he’s able to keep you all safe by paying, housing, and feeding former Conquerors to act as his own personal peacekeeping force.

  “In conclusion, I think we can all agree that my father is a great and generous man.”

  It worked almost too well.

  Devin had whipped the crowd into a frothing, frenzied fury. Farmers had grabbed their pitchforks. Craftspeople had taken up torches. The guards who’d been left in town overnight were doing their best to contain the mob, but they were fighting a losing battle and they knew it.

  By the time Devin was halfway up the hill to the manor, the guards had ignited a massive signal pyre in the town below—a sign that they needed reinforcements from the manor.

  Devin slunk into the trees. It would slow his progress somewhat, but it would also keep him from being spotted by those reinforcements on their way into town. Soon he saw their torches on the other side of the trees, and he knew his plan had worked. The manor was unguarded, and Devin strolled right through the gate and into the front door as if he still belonged there.

  He found his brother on the roof, sitting atop the sloping expanse of shingles just outside Dawson’s bedroom window.

  When they’d been little boys, they’d made a thorough search of the manor for secret, out-of-the-way places where they could hide from their father on days when his temper threatened to explode. He’d found them in the broom closets; he’d found them in the hedges. But given the earl’s fear of heights, it never occurred to him to stick his head out a third-story window to look for them here. And even if he saw them, he’d never step onto the roof to come after them.

  This hidden patch of roof had quickly become their favorite spot.

  “You could have moved into my bedroom,” Devin said as he clambered out Dawson’s window. “It’s bigger.”

  Dawson didn’t look up or startle at his voice. He simply shook his head. “I wouldn’t let anyone touch your room.”

  Devin smiled as he sat beside his brother. “You’re standing up to him. Not letting him push you around.” He put a hand on Dawson’s shoulder. “I was worried, leaving you here with him. But you know how to handle him, don’t you?”

  Dawson didn’t say anything. They sat together for a minute, sharing what Devin considered a comfortable silence.

  Then he saw that his brother was silently crying.

  “Hey, is this about what I said before? About Rumfuss?” he asked. “I’m sorry, Dawson. I didn’t mean it.”

  Dawson shook his head, wiped at his cheeks, sniffed. “It’s not that. It’s … After you left, Father and that horrible man with the beard—”

  “Zerif,” Devin clarified.

  Dawson nodded. “They abducted Conor’s mother. Held her prisoner. You heard him bragging about it.” He took a shaky breath. “I helped them. I helped them take her, and then I went to Conor and told him that he had to hand over the talisman or … or else.”

  “That’s not your fault,” Devin said.

  “Isn’t it?” Dawson turned to look at him, and his eyes shone with new tears. “I could have refused. I could have saved her. Snuck her out. But I was too afraid.”

  Devin looked out over the dark manor grounds. He saw torches in the distance, moving up the hill from town. “I never should have left,” Devin said.

  Dawson sniffled. “It’s okay, you—”

  “Let me finish. I never should have left without you.” Devin stood, balancing on the sloping rooftop.

  “Careful,” Dawson warned.

  “Don’t worry, I’m as nimble as a wildcat,” Devin said. “But I can’t stay here, Dawson. And I don’t think you should stay here either.”

  You’re in danger, he didn’t say. But maybe he wouldn’t have to. Maybe Dawson didn’t need to know that he’d been targeted by Zerif.

  His little brother looked up at him. “Are you serious?”

  “Serious as an angry mob,” Devin said, looking over his shoulder. “We need to leave tonight. Now. I have a friend who can help us get out of town.”

  A huge smile split Dawson’s face. “You have a friend?”

  “Yeah, well, he did punch me earlier, if that makes it easier to believe.” Devin grinned. “Now pack your things. And, uh, maybe grab some jewelry, too. It turns out a life of adventure isn’t cheap.”

  Devin left Dawson to pack. He had one more thing to take care of before he could leave, and he set his face in grim determination as he hurried down the hallway.

  His grimness fell away, however, when he turned a corner and nearly collided with a familiar girl.

  “Raisha?” he said, surprised. “What are—?” The girl was still dressed in her fine riding clothes, but she’d combed the tangles from her hair and washed the road dust from her face. Her tan skin and dark hair glowed warm and lovely in the torchlight.

  A flicker of surprise lit her features, but it was fleeting, replaced with a playful roll of her eyes. “Thank goodness you’re here. I’m so lost!” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “Where is the third-floor parlor room?”

  “Uh, back there,” Devin said, hooking a thumb over his shoulder. “Just past Dawson’s room.”

  “Dawson’s room.” Raisha flashed her teeth in a wide smile. “Thanks.”

  Devin blinked after her as she continued up the hallway. He remembered she’d said she was coming with gifts from her merchant father. But why wasn’t she more surprised to see him here? Had she actually known who he was all along?

  He shoved the question aside. At the moment he decided he had more important things to dwell on.

  He set his scowl back in place and walked downstairs to confront his father.

  Devin found the earl in their opulent dining room. He was seated at the far end of a long table, which had been carved from a single massive oak and polished to a shine. There was room at the table for thirty. But tonight, his father dined with only a single guest. />
  It was Zerif.

  “What’s he doing here?”

  “He was invited,” the earl said, getting to his feet. “Unlike you.”

  Devin noticed his father’s spirit animal curled up alone in the corner. The lynx’s face was buried in its paws. He’d never seen it so sedate.

  Zerif smiled languorously. His beard was as immaculate as ever, but there was a strange spiral of raised flesh upon his forehead, like a scar or a brand.

  “Don’t trust him.” Devin gripped the hilt of his sword. “Father—Lord Trunswick—please. You have to listen. Zerif is targeting the Great Beasts. He’s here for Dawson!”

  Zerif laughed, deep and long. The sound set Devin’s nerves on edge.

  Devin drew his sword. The sound of ringing metal brought both men’s eyes to the broken blade.

  “Oh my, Lord Trunswick. Is that the family sword?” Zerif sneered at Devin’s father. “You really have fallen on hard times, haven’t you?”

  The earl stiffened at the comment.

  “Hard times?” Devin echoed.

  He saw it then, and he felt like a fool for failing to see it before. He saw it in his father’s rumpled suit with the unstarched collar. In the lynx’s bowl, filled with oats instead of meat. He saw it in the absence of servants, and the almost desperate insistence on lavish gifts from foreign visitors.

  “You’re broke,” Devin said. “Aren’t you?”

  His father shuffled across the room to pour himself a drink from a crystal decanter. He shrugged dramatically. “Wars are expensive. Particularly when you support the losing side.”

  “When you said I ruined the family … ”

  He scowled at Devin over the rim of his glass as he drank. “Did you think I was overstating things?” He wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “Thanks to you, I can tell you exactly how much a spirit animal costs. Or how much ransom MacDonnell charges for the release of a prisoner, however disgraced and useless that prisoner may be.”

  Zerif laced his fingers together. Devin found it deeply unsettling that the man was still sitting at the table, as calm as he’d ever seen him, utterly unbothered by Devin’s drawn weapon. “Fortunately for your father,” Zerif said, “I’ve been too busy to spend any of the coin he gave me for your little wildcat. And he has something of value left to sell.”