FOREVER KNIGHTS: #13 Salvaging Souls
RHYERS - Stolen Artifact

Merwood, Dread Hideout

RHYERS

“What is it?” Rhyers asked a bit impatiently, as he reached Acharius deep in Merwood. Anxiously loitering in the entrance to his cave. “Bast said you needed me now?”

“Something has been in my cave!” Acharius swept a hand through his blonde hair. He looked ragged.

Exhausted.

“When?”

“Had to be last night.” Acharius huffed. “I took Chastain back to Meredith House and stayed with her.”

“Were you sleeping?”

“Yes.” He admitted.

Why didn’t you summon me then!

“I’ve told you, you can call me anytime you need rest. I’ll watch over you.”

“I know.”

Then why didn’t you?

“I was so tired.”

“I understand.” Rhyers nodded. Black hair loose around his shoulders. Crossing his arms, he studied the area alertly. “Any tracks.”

“Yea, some. But I can’t make heads or tails of them.” He muttered.

Oh?

Acharius was a fair tracker himself.

I trained him.

So, if he was having problems with the tracks, it meant they were interesting. “Show me.”

Acharius lead him further up the hill and moved some branches thick with the dense leaves. Splashing them both with the morning’s dew. The sun had not yet warmed this far down, and it was chilly enough their breath fogged. Even if they couldn’t feel it. Acharius gestured to the ground.

Rhyers looked at it. He saw one footprint but a span ahead of it was a deeply embedded handprint. “Some type of human.”

“Firoque?” Acharius asked.

“I’d assume so.” Rhyers knelt to examine the tracks. Focusing his attention. He saw another footprint further out from the handprint. And more handprints weaving through the brush. One was low on a trunk. He trailed the movement and envisioned the creature at his feet. How it must’ve moved to leave those tracks. Assessing he pattern and weight distribution.

“It’s human. Heavy enough to be a large woman or small male. From the agility of it crawling on all fours, I’d say a light male. He crawls. Disjointedly but fast.” Rhyers frowned at the path. Looking at Acharius he said. “You should be worried. It’ll be back now.”

Rhyers was racking his brain. I’ve seen something that moves like this before…

He recalled the Firoque woman and the strange crawling man that had gone to the Winter Dread when she’d frozen them in their tracks. Years ago in Mane.

He fingered the track again. This is that same male creature.

Strange for it to still be around unless Radix favors it.

“I have to move the artifacts.” Acharius’ words disrupted his thoughts.

A good decision.

“I’ll let Deragan know.” Rhyers nodded. “Stay here until I return. I’m going to get the pieces back first. Tell me what you lost.”

It will keep Deragan calmer when we tell him the pieces have been compromised.

Rhyers hoped it was a Firoque and not a full Cimmerii. Firoque didn’t have Radix’s telepathic link yet. And this one moved with purpose. Which made it likely it was still Firoque and possessing its own will.

That would be good news. It’d mean Radix hadn’t seen the caves yet.

I need to get the pieces back and find out what the possessor knows about them.

Did the Firoque understand the value of those particular treasures?

Rhyers House, Mane Country

Ebony. Ebony. Ebony. She was all Rhyers had been thinking about since that last ball.

He wasn’t entirely certain he needed her for this mission. But I damn sure want her.

In more ways than one. He was already feeling his mouth water at the prospect of another mission with her.

He sent her word she was needed for another mission. To garner information.

That’s all I’m telling her for now. Until I find out what role I’ll need her to play. He was going to meet her at Marshall House to come up with a plan. But to his shock, she beat the messenger back to Rhyers’ House. Banging so furiously on his door that he answered it. His gaze roving her in her black and white dress.

Looking every inch the demure lady. White ruffles at the collar and sleeves of the black silk. Somehow bringing out the green lights in her dark eyes.

“Ebony.” He lowered with a head tilt.

She quirked a black brow and looked at the top of his head. “Your wig is askew.”

It usually is. And he’d merely slapped it atop his head to answer the door. Not expecting guests, he hadn’t even pinned it. Seeing it was only her he tossed the wig into a side chair and led the way to his parlor. Opening the door, he held it for her and gestured for her to enter first.

She walked by and her gaze slid to his bare feet on the tiled floor. When they returned to his face, he was giving her the cocky grin.

Unashamed. She’s lucky I put on pants.

He’d dismissed his servants for the day as he anticipated meeting with her at Marshall House tonight and didn’t want servants reporting his whereabouts. It was his custom to give them days off before he went on a mission. So, they can’t report to anyone my movements.

“Some gentleman.” She remarked. Humor sparkling in her eyes.

“You’re intrigued.” He gave her his back as he went to pour some brandy. Asking over his shoulder. “Care for some?”

“Not today.”

Might be a bit hearty for her tastes. He realized but recalled how well she took it when he’d not offered her some before.

“You seem so different.” She remarked. Watching his movements carefully.

“There’s no longer any reason to feign with you.” He walked over and dropped onto his divan.

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