“How familiar are all of you with our neighbors to the south?”

  For once, the three men are of one mind in their shared confusion.

  “Do you mean the elves?” Sin asks. “I confess, I know nothing beyond the kingdom. Perhaps the more learned men in the room will offer insights.”

  Grayskin grunts. “Learned fighting.”

  “What do the elves have to do with this?”

  “Let me tell you three a story.” I tell them my theory; I tell them about Twilight, the matriarchs, and their horrifying traditions. I tell them how the fire could have drawn their attention and how they wouldn’t have been driven away by conflict but encouraged by it. How animals play dead to avoid predators.

  They do not like story time. Sin laughs, but there’s little humor in the sound. Grayskin glowers. Jacoby? The old man looks ready to boil over, his skin red as an apple as he glares at me.

  “What kind of nonsense are you spouting?” he spits. “Who do you think you are, insulting the founders? Insulting the men who fought alongside the saints? What do you hope to achieve, besmirching the reputation of heroes?”

  “I’m trying to make you see sense,” I respond evenly. He’s too pitiful to get angry at. “Like I said, I don’t like using the mental affinity. I am also the new lady of Quest. Technically, you’re my people now. I would prefer you amend your ways and live together with your neighbors happily ever after. But for there to even be a chance of that, you idiots have to open your minds to the possibility that you are wrong. Or, at the very least, that you can improve. I’m trying to give you reasons to reexamine your beloved traditions.”

  “If you want to sway hearts and minds, you should make your story more credible,” Sin says with a chuckle. “I can believe there is a hostile foreign nation that besieged humanity until they showed their bellies, but for the motivation to be sexual slavery? Please.”

  “…you’ve never met an elf, have you?”

  “No, but there is an elf walking around the kingdom and she isn’t snatching men off the streets, is she?”

  “Why would she? She already has me. Who else in this kingdom can fight off an entire city of hunters without a scratch? And even then, she could be an exception to the rule. You’re judging an entire culture on one person, who you’ve never even had a conversation with.”

  “You’re right. We should trust the word of the woman who beat us, kidnapped us, and is now about to destroy our minds.”

  I raise my palms. “The hard way it is. Let’s start with you.”

  “Ah, finally.” Sin’s smile is sharp as Geneva approaches him, laying her hand on his head. “What shall it be? Will you turn my mind against me? Use me to control my followers?”

  “I’m just going to ask you some questions.” Saints, this man is dramatic. “Starting with something interesting I saw earlier. You have the light affinity, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Given the way you use it, I assume you are a blade?”

  “Oh? My information said you were a noble of no consequence, but if you know that much, then perhaps you are more like me. A hidden asset, huh?”

  “Just answer the question.”

  “You have their arrogance. Everyone and everything exists for your convenience, doesn’t it?”

  “His parents sold him to nobles when they discovered his affinity,” Geneva answers in his stead.

  “And when you don’t get what you want willingly, you take it,” the rebel leader spits.

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  “Well, at least you have a suitably tragic past and aren’t just doing this for fun.” I shake my head. “There’s no need to go any further with him.”

  “Aren’t you going to ask me what my plans are?” he asks as Geneva moves over to Grayskin. “About all the dirty secrets I know? All the horrors I’ve committed on others’ behalf?”

  “You aren’t half as interesting as you think you are.”

  “Don’t look down on me!” he roars, face twisting with rage as he pulls at his restraints. “All of you bastards are the same! You think you’re so much better than me. Just because of your stupid names and your stupid traditions! Well, guess what? You still bleed. You can still die like everyone else. And one day, I’ll be in the dark and I’ll drive a knife right up your—”

  He cuts off as I touch a finger to his cheek, eyes fluttering before shutting in sleep. I shake the excess secretions from my fingertip. “He’s insane.”

  “Just figured that out?” Jacoby asks with a scoff.

  “I thought he was stupid and callous, not disturbed.” He’s going to have to go. “Is his situation common? Do the hunters sell their children to nobles?”

  “Do nobles sell their children to nobles?” the old man asks sarcastically. “What people do for their families isn’t the business of the guilds. There are thousands of tragedies every day. Our job is to protect them so they can live their lives, for good or ill.”

  “Right, so you’re the stupid and callous one.”

  “You’re just young.”

  “And you’re stubbornly set in your stupid ways. But don’t worry. I won’t bother trying to convince you anymore.” I turn to the serious hunter, who is remarkably calm despite a succubus leaning against his back. “What do you want for the hunters?”

  His eyes narrow. “This is a strange question.”

  “Not for the person in charge of the city’s future.”

  He dips his head in acknowledgement. “I want the hunters to be strong and healthy, so they may fulfill their duties to their families and the kingdom.”

  “And if that duty should change?”

  “I will not disregard the teachings of several honorable generations without substantial proof.”

  That’s better than someone who refuses to even consider it. “Do you harbor a grudge against me?”

  “Yes.”

  Wouldn’t have believed him if he answered any other way. “Is that grudge going to prevent you from working with me in the best interests of the hunters and the city?”

  “No.”

  I clap. “I’m satisfied. Geneva, anything?”

  “He is remarkably straightforward.”

  “Then, goodnight.”

  He rears back when he sees my hand coming but there’s nothing he can do. In moments, he relaxes into unconsciousness, leaving one.

  Jacoby makes a face like he’s swallowing a lemon as my succubus splays her dainty fingers in his gray hair. She pauses, smile widening as her hands trail down his face and into his robe. I’m just about to make a comment about the disturbing sight when one of her hands comes out of his clothes clutching a medallion with a familiar, dark blue stone in the center.

  I open my hand and she tosses it to me. The back is filled to the rim with elaborate carvings. Definitely something to hide enchantments. That must make its centerpiece a mental affinity stone.

  “First question. Was this a part of the Authority?”

  He remains quiet.

  “Yes,” Geneva answers gleefully. “There were dozens of them. It seems they were quite common in the old kingdom. They were also the one piece of equipment that was allowed to be used at the guildmasters’ discretion.”

  “At least your predecessors understood the dangers of the mental affinity. No need to beat around the bush. Where is the Authority?”

  Jacoby scowls. “You are betraying your kingdom. Your entire race. Don’t you feel anything? Have you no shame?”

  “My wife beat most of that out of me and fucked away the rest, so no, I really don’t.”

  “This! This is why the Authority was hidden. You are the nightmare that drove them to make the laws they did! You…you…”

  “The first cache—”

  “Damn you!”

  I tense as his eyes glow, ready for his attack, but it never comes. The old man jerks and slumps to the side. I blink as a thin trail of blood leaks from the corner of his lips. Did he just—

  “He killed himself,” Geneva confirms. “A spell to crush his heart.”

  “But…you can just heal him…” Did he not know that succubi are healers? No, he had to.

  “Or we can leave him. I can still read his memories. Rather, it’s easier now without the obstacle of his mana.”

  Can we just…leave him to die?

  “He killed himself. You would only be respecting his wishes.”

  “I suppose…”

  No one’s going to believe he did this to himself though. My reputation is terrible enough without people thinking I snatch old men off the street and murder them. But what kind of person am I if I force an old man to live when he’d rather die for his beliefs?

  This is not how I saw my day going.

  “Take everything and then wake this asshole up.”

  She laughs as she gets to work. After only a minute, Jacoby’s eyes regain the spark of life as he jolts awake. He dazedly looks around before focusing on me. Then the rage starts to rise.

  “You dare—”

  “I do!” I snap. “Do you know how much crap you’d be shoveling through my door if I just let you drop dead? Kill yourself if you want to but not before you write a three-page letter explaining in exhaustive detail that it’s your idea and I have nothing to do with it. I refuse to tolerate anything that makes the mess I have to deal with messier. Deal with it!”

  He sputters in indignation, words failing to express his rising emotion. Then…he deflates. All the life just drains right out of him as his head hangs over his chest, the poor man utterly defeated.