"His name is Nostrand Del."

"Del. Like the Dellends?"

"Yes, he was one of the last kings of the region."

"Before Peter Luskaine wiped out the entire royal line," Castille said.

Isla crossed her arms.

"They were doing a fine enough job without his help."

She turned to me.

"Nostrand Del was killed by his seven half-elven sons, who then fought a civil war amongst themselves for the throne. Their kingdom was so weakened by the succession war that Peter Luskaine was able to take their city with almost no losses."

"And how does one get seven half-elven sons?" Castille asked.

It was a rhetorical question, one that made Isla squirm. She looked at me, and I nodded for her to go ahead. I could already guess the answer.

"He had an interest in elven slaves. Traders from across the continent would visit Del to sell him their stock."

Her face tinged a sickly shade of green.

"It wasn't all about… sex. They also helped him with what he was most known for."

"What was that?"

"Enchantment. The historical accounts call Nostrand Del a genius enchanter and a master of spoken High Song."

My mind flashed to the floating orb from the Lagos brothers' party.

"What kind of enchanted objects did he create?"

"We don't know. Not many of his notes survived the succession war and Peter Luskaine's conquest."

"I bet there's a whole stack of those notes squirrelled away somewhere in the Sanctifier Guildhall."

"Do you think they would go that far?"

"I do, but we don't need to hunt that game. Not yet. We already have a lead."

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I turned to Dugan. Some rest had helped his condition, but his eyes were still vacant and unfocused.

"The orb..." Isla whispered.

I nodded.

"Van Lagos told me it was pulled out of the Brimspoke mountains by the old cartel leaders. If something like that is down there-"

"What or who else is waiting to be found?"

Isla's tired eyes sparkled with rekindled enthusiasm.

"It's a good thing you're friends with Van Lagos now," Castille said.

"Well, I wouldn't say friends…"

She clapped her hands together.

"OK! Let's review. What are the facts?"

Isla paced the room, stopping at the sleeping Thor before walking back to me.

"Nostrand Del was a genius enchanter who was killed by his sons. Since then, nobles have been unable to bond to the land, and the land has been cursed. The curse originates from Brimspoke Mountains, where enchanted objects have been recently found."

I chimed in.

"If Nostrand Del survived, that would explain why the nobles can't bond to the land-"

"And an enchanted artifact could be keeping him alive and powering the curse."

Isla cupped her chin.

"But what's the purpose of the curse?"

"Revenge against his sons?"

"Then why would the curse have benefits? No, it must be more than that. Nostrand Del is planning something."

A plan that spanned over a hundred years. The idea made me shiver. Mother Geslin was right. Something terrible was going to happen here.

Isla sighed.

"We shouldn't have let this fester for so long."

I shrugged.

"It's not like it's your responsibility."

Castille sat up, scooting to the edge of the bed to put on her boots.

"Either way, the path is clear. We will investigate Brimspoke Mountains and learn the truth about Nostrand Del and this curse."

She grinned at me.

"We just need a convincing reason for Van Lagos to let us investigate the mines."

"I'll think of something."

Off to the side of the bed, Thor shook himself awake and stared at the door. A moment later…

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

"Hello! It's Denise."

Castille nodded. I walked to the door, cracking it open to see the young woman we first met at the Pit. She was sweating. Her wide eyes darted around before fixing on my face.

"What's wrong?"

"There's a crowd outside! Cassandra is trying to hold them back, but the security from last night already left."

Her wild, dark-circled eyes tried to look past me.

"Is what they say true?! Is Dugan a mage?!"

Castille jumped off the bed, grabbing the sword belt slung over her headboard.

With practiced efficiency, she tied it around her waist and walked up to the door.

She turned back to look at Dugan, Isla and Thor.

"You three stay here. Jacob, you're with me."

I nodded, resting my right hand on the cane on my hip. After last night, I felt naked without it.

As we hurried down the stairs, I realized I left my new jacket in my room. That made me feel naked in a different way. I was going into battle without armour, dressed like Castille in a white shirt and black pants.

At the entrance of the Pit, Cassandra stood tall at the doors with both hands held high.

"Cassandra!"

Cassandra turned to look at Castille. A large gash was above her left eyebrow, dripping blood into her eye.

That was the last straw.

We rushed forward, longsword and short sword drawn. Ready to cut down whoever was outside the doors.

And what we saw terrified us.

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