When Catrin and I were alone in a room within the elven manor, she whirled on me.

"What the fuck was all that?"

I met her glare, bemused. "What was what?"

The dhampir lifted a hand, gesturing in the direction of the dining terrace and the Sidhe lord. "That. These bastards took us prisoner, shot me, forced you into a fight for your life in front of an audience, then sent you on your merry way to fight their enemy. And you just… just…"

She made a clawing motion with her hands, baring her teeth in frustration. "You just bowed and thanked the scarred bastard like he was the blessed emperor of Urn!"

I turned and walked toward the single window in the room. It was more spacious than the one I'd used at the Falconer castle, all blue stone walls and faerie lights, a narrow window without glass cut into the far wall. It contained a bed, a small basin for washing, and an armoire. Outside the window, I caught sight of a garden bounded within the estate, with little streams and bridges. Music, serene and subtly sad, curled like smoke through the scene.

Like a painting. Or a dream. I scoffed. It was a dream.

"Well?" Catrin asked at my back, when I pulled the curtains on the little window and didn't reply.

I sighed. "They're immortals. There's no point getting mad about anything they do. It won't sway them, and won't get us what we need."

Also, I thought tiredly, they had good reason to treat me like they did.

"It just doesn't seem right," Catrin groused.

"Yeah, well…" I turned to the armoire and checked it. No wisps or wraiths. I knocked on the inside in several places. No illusions. "If you want quick justice from the elves, you're going to be disappointed. You want to call in a debt with them, do it, but I'm not going to sit around waiting for the oradyn to balance the scales. We're lucky I won that duel."

"Lucky?" Catrin propped a fist on her hip, watching me search the room. "Looked like you thumped him good from where I was sitting, big man."

"He wanted me to win," I said. "I think. Not real clear on that point. Anyway, if he meant to kill me I don't think I'd have made it out of that intact."

I turned a hard look on the dhampir. "And you need to be careful how you talk to the Sidhe. They're quick to forget trivial things, but not slights. The oradyn gave you slack because his people shot you with banemetal, but his indulgence will only go so far."

Catrin scoffed. "To the Pits with that. I don't let human nobles treat me like I'm mud to be stepped on, and I won't let him do it just because he's ancient and glowy."

She folded her arms and studied me thoughtfully. "Though, I suppose you're used to dealing with the like, being some sort of righteous crusader."

"Don't call me that," I snapped.

Catrin reeled back, surprised at the venom in my voice.

I fought to control my temper a moment before speaking again. "I'm not some dogmatic zealot, persecuting heretics in the God-Queen's name. That is not what the Table was for."

Catrin watched me in neutral silence.

You were quick to persecute her, I reminded myself in a flash of guilt.

She's a predator. She tried to ensorcel you and take your will.

I didn't know what to think. Hadn't for a long time. Catrin was dangerous. Even if she didn't work for the baron, this Keeper she served might be just as much a villain. Perhaps a worse one.

"What was that he called me before?" Catrin asked, changing the subject. Her brow furrowed as she searched for the word. "Malcathe?"

"It means misbegotten," I said. "They use it for most things that aren't men or fae." Mostly things of fiendish origin, I added silently. One more reason not to entirely trust the changeling.

"I'll bet," Catrin said. A bitter smile curled her lips.

"We need to get ready to leave after we rest," I said, changing the subject. "What's this plan of yours? You left before I could ask last night."

"Yeah…" I could tell Catrin hadn't forgotten the subject, but she let it pass for the moment. She moved to the bed, sat, then let out a small sound of surprise as she nearly sank into it. She patted it a few times, marveling at the softness.

When she caught me glowering in impatience, she coughed self-consciously and crossed her legs beneath her long skirts. "Remember when I thought we were both going to die and I told you about the baron's pet?"

I nodded. "You already knew it was a demon."

Catrin's face drained of some of its color. "Yeah. I can… I don't know. Feel it. Like it's making my blood shiver."

She did shiver, as though to demonstrate. "But it's not just my hunch. All these factions sending representatives to treat with Falconer are taking him seriously because he bound some dark spirit leftover from the wars in the east. And… you don't look shocked."

I shook my head. "I sensed it too, with my powers. Remember when you brought me to the castle?"

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Catrin's eyes widened. "I thought you were some kind of mage. That was because of this paladin thing?"

"It's a gift of the Alder Table," I confirmed. "I can sense Things of Darkness."

Catrin's smile turned a touch shy. "Didn't sense me."

"No," I said quietly. "I didn't."

Seeing my expression, the changeling's humor faded. "Well, in any case, everyone's wondering how the bastard bound the thing to him. It's a powerful weapon, and he's the one keeping it in his armory. I didn't see the fighting during the Fall, but most everyone knows the stories — whole countries afire, thousands dead, armies getting lost every month. If Orson Falconer has one of the monsters involved in all that at his beck and call, he could unleash a little bit of that hell anywhere he pleases. It's his main bargaining chip."

I leaned against the wall by the window, considering. "You want to break Orson's hold over the spirit."

"That was my plan," Catrin said. Her tone turned sly. "But you're some kind of hallowed warrior, aren't you? Can't you just take that cutter, and…"

She indicated my axe, which hung on my belt, and made a chopping gesture.

"You can't kill demons," I said. "Not really. They're like elves and onsolain — eternal. You can wound them, destroy their physical bodies, seal them away or banish them into the Wend, but you can't truly get rid of them."

My voice turned grim. "Believe me, we've tried. They're… difficult to fight. And the one at the castle isn't manifested in a body, I don't think. It felt more like it was in the walls, or a shadow. If it's not flesh, there's less direct harm it can do, but it makes it harder for me to hurt it in any meaningful way."

That was another disturbing thought I didn't voice. If the demon wasn't manifest yet, but Orson Falconer intended to use it as a weapon, then it stood to reason he planned to give it form. There were no gentle ways he could accomplish that.

"So…" Catrin lifted both hands in a helpless shrug. "Back to Plan A — we cut off the Baron's control of the thing. Without it, he's got no allies and no leverage. He's just some petty provincial ruler, and all this blows over."

"I'm not going to release a demon on the world," I said.

"Then what should we do?"

"Kill him," I said. I met her eyes. "That's what I was here for in the first place. If he's not a fool, then his death shouldn't free the thing. It's probably bound to the castle itself, or some edifice inside it."

Catrin swallowed. "Well, I don't think you're going to get close to him with that nightmare guarding his back, not to mention Karog and the Mistwalkers. So unless you've got a better idea…"

She had a point.

"Do you know how he's got the thing bound?" I asked the dhampir.

"I think I might." Catrin leaned forward, one pale foot bobbing in thought. "You remember that creepy cloaked attendant? The one called Priska?"

At my nod she continued. "I think she's got something to do with it. The Baron vanishes into the castle's dungeons every night, and she's always with him. I've tried spying on them down there, but every time I get close I can sense the spirit…" she shook herself. "It's like they're all down there in some secret council. I bet Priska knows, and she's not nearly so well guarded as Orson is. We grab her, get her to talk."

I considered in silence a moment. Catrin arched an eyebrow. "Not working for you?"

"It makes sense," I said. "But it's a bit short on details."

"Details," Catrin scoffed. "What's all that muscle for?" She appraised me for a moment, then amended. "Well, I can think of a few things."

I ignored the comment. "So your secret plan is to… use me as a thug."

"Yep," Catrin confirmed brightly.

I scoffed, but inwardly admitted I didn't have a better idea. It might have taken me days or weeks to learn what Catrin had already provided, and her knowledge of the castle and its inhabitants would prove invaluable on our return.

"There's also the trouble of those two hunters," I said. "I've got no clue what they're planning to try, but they'll get themselves killed."

Olliard had mentioned maps. Were they trying to sneak into the castle through some hidden way? It wouldn't save them from what waited inside.

"My coin's on the Baron," Catrin said dryly, as though reading my thoughts. "Still, I see what you mean. Those two could be trouble… or a nice distraction."

I didn't much like the thought, but she was right.

"What of the others?" I asked, beginning to pace. I hadn't gotten the chance to investigate the other members of Orson's council while at the castle.

That must be why he gave me a mission, I thought. He had to be suspicious of me, and sending me out prevented me from gathering intel while he learned more about how I operate.

Play and counter play, and the baron had outplayed me.

"Well, there's Lillian." Catrin's face twisted in distaste. "She's a sorceress. Not a true Magi, but a dangerous sort all the same. Don't know much about her, being honest. You've met the Culler Brothers, and they're right bastards, but not real badasses like Karog or Issachar."

"What about those two hooded ones?" I asked.

"Don't know their identities," Catrin admitted sheepishly. "They never take those hoods off, and they only really talk to one another outside of those dinner parties. The others seem intimidated by them, so I think they're important. Just don't know how."

"They probably represent some other faction," I muttered, scratching at my chin with a thumb. "How about that hobgoblin?"

Catrin blinked. "Hobgoblin? Heh, wish I'd thought of that. You mean the guy who likes using bones to sew up his doublet? Yeah, I know him. That's Count Ildeban."

I whirled on her. "You're joking."

She shook her head, causing her chestnut hair to swing and fall over her left eye. "I'm not. He's a regular at the Backroad, just like the Cullers, but he likes to take different guises."

I knew of Count Ildeban. He'd been mortal once, but he'd run afoul of the Briar. The wicked elves hadn't made a Briar Brother of him, but they had made him a monster in his own right. There were grim stories about the mad nobleman dating back nearly three centuries.

"There were rumors he joined the war," I said. "But no one could track down his castle. He likes to hunt knights for sport, and he didn't take a side, so we never managed to verify if the stories were true…"

"Guess he picked a side," Catrin observed.

Our conversation lapsed into silence as I chewed on what I planned to face the next day. A whole coterie of deadly villains stood between me and my target.

I only needed to deliver my doom to one of them, but I wouldn't weep for the others.

"Go get some rest," I told her. "The oradyn has time slowed in these woods, so we can recover. Use it."

She nodded, hopped off the bed, and started to leave.

Another thought struck me, and I spoke even as it came. "How did you know Micah? Seems strange a preoster would be friends with—"

"A bloodsucker?" She asked. Then, her voice turning mocking she added, "a malcathe?"

I'd spoken thoughtlessly. Still, I waited for an answer as Catrin paused by the door.

After a minute, she answered in a sudden rush. "I was letting him fuck me. Is that what you need to know?"

I think she meant to say the words with spiteful challenge, but they came out like a nervous blurt.

I turned to look at her. "You were feeding on him, weren't you?"

The changeling folded her arms, shifting uncomfortably. "A bit. He… look, he knew what I was, alright? Caelfall's attracted my sort for a long time."

"He was an old man," I said in a hard voice. "Have you considered you might have killed him? That his ghost keeps seeking you out because it's tethered to you?"

Catrin's cheeks turned an angry red. "You're a real bastard, you know that? Micah was a good man! I wouldn't… I didn't…"

She jabbed a finger at me. "Fuck you!"

She slammed the door on the way out. That left me alone, wondering if I'd been right. And whether it changed anything.

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