“The duke betrayed us.”

  Those were the first words out of Ken’s mouth.

  From the outcropping, Balt let out a sharp bark of laughter. “Called it.”

  Sara ignored him, her focus fixed on Ken. She leaned over to him, steadying his trembling hands in hers. “What do you mean?”

  Ken’s voice cracked as he spoke, but the words tumbled out in a rush. “We hadn’t even made it halfway to the capital before forty soldiers appeared on the road, banners flying with the ducal colors. They said they were sent to escort the party the rest of the way. At first, we were grateful for the escort, relieved even. But by nightfall, the truth revealed itself.”

  The kobolds struck under cover of darkness. And when we turned to our supposed protectors for aid, the soldiers turned their blades on us instead. The escort had been a trap from the start.

  Sara’s face paled, her grip tightening on Ken’s hands.

  Ken swallowed hard, his eyes distant as if reliving the moment. “A strange bone beast was with them leading the kobolds; it terrified me. It was a towering creature, armored in bone, and it spoke our language. It was like a nightmare come to life, Lady Sara. It took Riker, our head envoy, along with the ducal crest he carried. We haven’t seen either of them since.”

  The words hung heavily in the air. The freed prisoners shifted uneasily, their fear renewed. The betrayal wasn’t just a wound to their pride. It was a knife in the back of the entire village.

  Balt spat into the dirt, his voice low and grim. “So, the duke’s in bed with monsters. Figures.” I said nothing, though my hand had formed into a fist. The betrayal explained much, but it also meant the enemy was far more organized, and far more dangerous, than we’d thought.

  “My father would never betray the people.”

  A voice carried out past the thin canvas walls of my tent, steadier now, though still raw from grief.

  The boy’s eyes were rimmed red when he stepped into daylight, but his tears had dried. He no longer hunched as he had when I first pulled him from the wagon. His back was straighter, his chin lifted, and there was a weight in the way he carried himself, as if someone who had been taught from a young age to stand tall no matter the storm.

  I couldn’t put a name to it. Not training, not discipline exactly… but something ingrained. A presence. Dignity perhaps.

  He was much younger than me, yet in that moment he seemed older than Balt. His hands still trembled faintly, but he clasped them behind his back as though forcing them still, his shoulders squared against the weight of the world.

  Sara watched him closely, her expression unreadable, but I caught the faintest flicker of recognition in her eyes.

  The boy drew a breath, steadying himself. “If my father has turned against your village, then I need to hear it from his own lips. Until then, I will not believe it.”

  There was no arrogance in his tone, only conviction. And though I didn’t know the proper word for the way he stood there, I knew this much: whoever he was, he wasn’t just some wagon driver.

  Sara stepped forward. “What is your name?” she asked.

  The young man straightened his shoulders, his voice steady. “My name is Leon Whiterock, heir apparent to my father, Duke Randall Whiterock, Sword of the Realm and Protector of the Western Front.”

  I cast Identify, and sure enough, the name returned:

  Sara dropped to one knee, and Ken followed suit. Leon’s gaze shifted to me, expectant, as though waiting for the same. I just stared back. I didn’t give a damn about kneeling. “Well,” I said flatly, “I doubt the duke sent his son to play wagon driver and starve half to death while doing it.”

  For the first time, Leon smiled. “Who are you, champion?”

  I returned the smile. I am Riven, and I pointed to where Balt was keeping watch. That’s my party member Balt, and we are just passing through.”

  He narrowed his eyes at me, but I just crossed my arms. His little reveal was distracting the rest of them, but there were still hostages in there. “Since you’re already feeling better, what can you tell me about the cave, and if you could tell the people kneeling on hot stone to get up, that would be great.”

  Sara drew in a sharp breath, and the old man dropped to his knees, groveling. Leon blinked, as if only just realizing they had been kneeling before him this whole time. His face flushed with embarrassment.

  “Please rise,” he blurted.

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  So, he wasn’t one of those storybook nobles who treated people like dirt. That was something, at least. “Balt, I need you.” I turned to Ken. “Do me a favor, head up to the outcropping and switch with Balt. Keep watch, and let me know if anything comes out of that cave, understood?”

  I helped him to his feet, gave his shoulder a reassuring pat, and watched as he stumbled toward the ridge.

  Then I motioned to Leon and Sara to come closer. “We’re burning daylight. Leon, I want you to describe the cave system in as much detail as you can. Balt has a Talent that will give us a visual of the terrain.”

  Leon straightened. Despite his youth, he was a sharp kid, and months in captivity hadn’t dulled that. He described the cave: a network of tunnels that wound deeper into the mountain, some plunging underground. He couldn’t say how many monsters lurked inside, but knowing my luck, it would be more than a few.

  He showed the section where they held him, and the freed prisoners confirmed the others were still caged in that same tunnel system. Balt listened intently, committing every detail to memory with the ease of a seasoned guide.

  I exhaled slowly, my eyes lingering on the cave mouth in the distance. “Balt and I will go in first,” I said, my voice low but firm. “We’ll scout the tunnels, see what we can find, and if the chance presents itself, we’ll free the rest of the prisoners.”

  Sara stepped forward before Balt could answer, her cloak shifting in the wind. “You’ll need me with you,” she said, her tone steady but edged with urgency. “The crest was taken inside with the help of my necklace; it might help us locate the crest and Riker quicker. Without me, you could walk right past the crest and never know it.”

  I studied her for a long time. “Why don’t you just hand Balt the necklace and we’ll use it ourselves?”

  She glared at me. “It is keyed to my bloodline, and no one else besides maybe Lord Leon can use it.”

  “Are we related?” asked Leon. It was Sara’s turn to blush. “I am your second cousin on your father’s side. You might be able to use this.” She showed the necklace.

  I looked at the boy. He didn’t flinch, though his face paled.

  “I’ll be going too,” he said, voice unsteady. “I was in there and will be helpful. I can’t leave my people to those monsters’ fate. It’s my responsibility… as my father’s son.”

  “Alright, Sara, you’re with us. But you, kid?” I shook my head. “There’s no way in hell you’re going back in there.”

  Leon lifted his chin, voice calm despite the tremor in his hands. “It’s my duty.”

  I almost laughed. “Your duty,” I said flatly, “is to keep these people alive long enough for me to come back. You want to help? Fine, I get that. Do it by keeping them breathing, not running into a fight you can’t win.”

  He bristled, but I didn’t give him the chance to argue. “These people need you more than I do. Hold steady and let nothing stop you from getting to Blackfern. Getting these people to safety is all that matters, not your pride.” I set a hand on his shoulder, trying to take the sting out of my words. “Can you help me get these people to safety?”

  His eyes swept over the bruised and bloodied survivors who had gathered outside the tent, their faces hollow with fear. He swallowed hard, then gave me a short, resolute nod.

  I pulled a spare short sword and sheath from my inventory. It was loot from the last floor that I saved for an occasion like this one. I pressed it into his hands. “Protect them until I get back. That’s your duty now.”

  He gripped the weapon as if it were the only solid thing left in his world.

  “Let’s move,” I said, turning to the others. “Clear the wagon and get these people loaded. We’re putting as much distance as we can between them and this cave.”

  The next few minutes were a blur of motion. Balt swept the wagon clean with a surge of force magic, shoving the bundles of Blackfern bandages aside so no one had to risk touching them. Sara moved quickly among the freed prisoners, guiding them up onto the benches, steadying the weak and the wounded with a gentle hand.

  The horses stamped and snorted, ears flicking nervously, eager to be away from the cave’s shadow. We hitched both my mount and Balt’s to the harness, giving the wagon the strength it needed to carry the load. The poor beasts that had been strapped to it before were gaunt and trembling, so we fed and watered them, letting them drink deep before setting them to the task again.

  By the time the last villager was settled, the air already felt lighter, as if we’d stolen something back from the darkness.

  I rolled my shoulders and turned back to the group. “Get them moving toward Blackfern, kid. Put as much distance between the wagon and this cave as you can. Balt, Sara, I’ll catch up shortly.”

  The young noble seemed to hesitate, then nodded and flicked the reins. The creak of the wagon wheels soon faded into the distance.

  I didn’t walk straight to the cave. Instead, I slipped along the ridge, keeping low, circling wide until the cave mouth was angled before me. Loose gravel shifted under my boots, but I moved slowly, deliberately, each step measured, and my companions stuck close. The shadows stretched long across the rocks, and I used them, letting the jagged stone swallow me whole.

  When I finally crouched near the edge of the cave mouth, I let my breathing steady and centered myself for what was about to come. My vision sharpened, the world narrowing as my stats carried my eyesight further than normal eyes could reach. The gloom inside the cave peeled back layer by layer. Shapes resolved in the darkness.

  A handful of kobolds lingered just inside, their scaled bodies restless, weapons at the ready. They barked at one another in low, guttural tones. And there between them, stood a man. His posture was rigid, his armor dulled but intact, a soldier’s armor to be sire. One human guard.

  I eased back into the shadow of the lip of the cave, pulse steady. Fewer than I’d expected, but it only took one to alert the rest below. I whispered what I had seen, then let my aura coil tight around my body.

  Time to be quick. Time to be precise.

  I summoned Ember. The blade sang into my hand, heat flaring along its edge.

  Flash Step.

  The world smeared sideways. Stone blurred beneath my boots. I reappeared in front of the first kobold before it could even snarl. Ember carved through its throat in a single blazing arc.

  I pivoted.

  Flash Step.

  The next kobold didn’t even realize its companion was dead. Two strikes, clean, efficient, its body hit the ground in pieces. The remaining two spun in panic, scrambling to raise their weapons.

  Too slow. I was behind them before their minds caught up with their fear. Ember flared sapphire, and the tunnel filled with the wet crack of scales and bone giving way.

  Silence.

  I exhaled, turning and froze mid-step.

  Balt stood over the human guard, one hand outstretched, his aura pressing the man flat against the cave wall like an invisible hand of iron. The soldier strained uselessly, eyes wide, feet dangling inches above the ground.

  Balt glanced at me, unimpressed. “Took you long enough.”

  I snorted, flicking blood from Ember’s edge. "Had to leave you one.”