Isla's face paled while Dugan sat up in his chair. Castille smirked.

My left hand moved to the short sword on the bed.

"Don't push yourself, Jacob," Castille said, glancing from me to the weapon.

I nodded, grabbing my left hand with my right.

Reed's eyes glanced at my hands.

"Are you finished?"

"For now…"

"Good. We killed Nostrand Del."

"What?!"

Reed weathered our shock and surprise with practiced poise.

"To be specific, the Sanctifiers Guild made a black contract with Nostrand Del's seven sons. They eliminated him on our request."

Dugan jumped out of his chair. His eyes were wild, fists clenched into balls.

"Castille, keep your man under control. I know his history with black contracts, but I will not tolerate violence in this room."

Castille stretched her arm over the bed.

"Dugan. Dugan! Calm down..."

He looked down at the floor. His mouth twitched with involuntary tremors.

Black contracts were the Sanctifiers' worst-kept secret. They were used to enforce shady deals that were kept off the Guild's records.

Dugan sat back in his chair. He hunched over, his hands clasped together so hard his fingertips turned white.

Reed looked down at the man, something close to sympathy in her eyes.

Dugan, who are you?

She continued.

"As I was saying, we made a deal with Nostrand Del's seven sons. Whoever killed their father would receive a Landbound contract and our support in taking over the Kingdom of Del."

"Wouldn't they already have Landbound Magic?" I asked.

"Not quite," Shay said. "Contracts are either exclusive to the signer or inclusive of their living blood relatives. In the era of petty kingdoms, Landbound contracts were most often exclusive. Such were the times. The Guild was young, and life was messy."

"Why did the Sanctifiers want to get rid of Nostrand Del?" Castille asked.

Reed glanced at her.

"He was meddling with dangerous enchantments despite our repeated warnings."

"In other words, he challenged the Sanctifiers' monopoly on the First Magic, so they bribed his sons to kill him," I said.

Reed scoffed.

"Kill your monster of a father and become a king? It was a fair deal. Elves were slaves in Del, and his half-elven sons were treated no differently than their mothers. Not that it matters now. Dying was a part of his plan."

"You're wrong, Reed, it does matter. The Sanctifiers gave him his goal. To get revenge on his son's descendants and retake his kingdom."

Shay smiled.

"Why stop there? I would take over all of Luskaine and then the rest of the Abyssal Lands. Such a powerful goal would give me the conviction to live for hundreds of years."

"That could have always been his plan," Reed said.

Isla shook her head.

"It should never have gotten this far."

"The past is the past. The future is ours. Get some rest. I need you at today's meeting."

"Why? What's going to happen?" I asked.

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"We begin the counterattack. And your party will lead the charge."

We traded shocked expressions—at least most of us. Dugan was off in his own world, and Thor was still sleeping.

Reed opened the right side of her jacket.

"Shay, let's go."

The Enchanter sighed.

"Must I travel in such crude fashion?"

"Stop complaining, Shay. Half of my men would pay to be in your position."

With a pout, Shay folded into himself, wrapping around Reed's torso in a flutter of lavender cloth.

Was this how my relationship with Sin should be? Friendliness instead of fear. Trading barbs instead of blows.

No.

Sin was cruel, but she made me strong.

My left hand reached for the short sword on the bed. It wrapped around the black lacquer handle.

She made me...

Reed opened the bedroom door, exchanging quiet words with her guards as they disappeared down the hall.

"Well... That was a lot," Castille said.

And that was an understatement. Will wells, the First Magic, the truth of Nostrand Del and the Sanctifiers' role in creating him. What would I give to go back to the mansion? To wash wooden bowls and plates with Gren, read Mr. Reeves' books, or play games with Cynthia and Cindra when Mrs. Dulldrey wasn't looking.

I sighed.

The past is the past.

I scanned the room and the faces of my new companions. Dugan was still hunched over in his chair with Castille rubbing a comforting hand on his back. Isla held her staff close to her chest, staring off into space, and Thor was still sleeping.

Reed had decided to put the fate of the Dellends in our hands.

We were doomed.

# # #

We spent the rest of the morning sleeping, rolling out the bed rolls on the floor of Castille's master suite. By the time we walked down to the first floor of the Pit, the dining room tables were pushed to the side by the Sanctifier Guild's servants. Chairs were laid out in crooked rows in front of a platform the black-clad servants were assembling.

Cassandra stood behind the bar with a sour look on her face.

"Castille, what's going on? That Inquisitor isn't telling me anything," she whispered.

I barely heard her over the sound of hammers banging against wood.

Castille scratched the top of her head, ruffling her already tousled hair.

"Cass... Where to begin."

I sat down on a nearby stool.

"Reed is gathering the cartel leaders and bosses of Steeltown. We found something under the mountains. Something bad."

Her eyes widened, leaning over the counter.

"So the rumours are true! The whole town has been talking. Between the food storage and mines shutting down, people are furious. The Sanctifiers are barely keeping things under control."

Great. The last we needed was another riot like Southsun.

Cassandra looked away, examining the wood grain of the countertop.

"Maybe... Maybe it would be better if you stayed in your room."

"Why?" Isla asked, sitting on a stool next to me.

The Madame's face flushed. Impressive, considering her line of work.

"Ever since you came into town, it's one thing after another. Van Lagos was poisoned, our food supply was burned, and now the mines are shutting down. People are blaming you, Jacob."

Her eyes met mine. Anger simmered beneath her pleasant, perfumed visage.

"You're bad luck."

The words stung, but maybe she was right.

Castille shrugged.

"When things get hairy, people look for a scapegoat. Isn't that right, Dugan?"

Dugan had turned away from us to watch the door. Ever since his outburst, his mind... was somewhere else.

I exhaled, letting the tension out of my shoulders.

"It would help if I wasn't in the middle of every accident in this town."

"I think the worst of it is over," Isla said.

I slapped my forehead.

"What?"

"You jinxed it!"

Slow, heavy footfalls stamped up the stairs of the Pit. We turned to the entrance as the doors swung open, and a tall man ducked his head under the frame.

Tiny Tom lifted the fringe of brown hair in front of his face to scan the room. He glowered when he caught sight of me.

I groaned. This was the last thing I needed.

"Sorry," Isla whispered.

He stomped to the bar. Behind him, Arwen's head poked in the entrance. He gaped and darted after the hulking man.

"Tommy! Tommy, wait a minute!"

Tiny Tom Harwick stopped against the wall that was Dugan. He didn't acknowledge the shorter man. Instead, his eyes were fixed on me.

"Is this him, Arwen?"

"Yes, but wait, he's-."

"Well, I'll be! I peeped you at the party, but now that I'm looking close, I can really see it. You're an elf. A reeeeeal elf."

"Half. Elf," I said.

He bared his teeth.

"What do you want, lad?" Castille asked.

"I ain't no lad. I'm a cartel leader, and my people are out for blood."

He rolled up the sleeves of his grey work shirt, thumbing his right hand over his shoulder.

"Git outside, and let's settle this. Me and you with none of your elf tricks."

Arwen sighed.

The swelling around his eye had gone down, leaving a purple ring of blackened blood beneath his sunburnt skin.

I pointed to the cartel's real leader.

"Is this about him?"

"You're damn right. You think you're tough? Beating on an old man. Time to pick on summin your own size."

I looked around.

"Where are they?"

"You know what I mean!"

I sighed.

And Dugan had just finished healing me.

"Can I eat first?"

Tiny Tom furrowed his brows, taken aback by my question.

"Uh... Fine! I'll be waiting outside. Don't try n' run!"

I blinked at Tom's back as he stormed out of the Pit.

"Are you really doing fight him? He's huge," Isla said.

"I don't think he has a choice," Castille said, one hand on her longsword.

Arwen walked up to the bar, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry. When he saw my face, there was no cooling him off."

I punched him, and he was apologizing to me.

Disgusting.

"Doesn't he know we're working together?"

"He does… He doesn't care. He's my sister's boy. I cared for him when she passed. Now he got it in his thick head that I need his protection."

"That's sweet of him," Isla said.

I sighed.

"He's been like this all morning, getting the mining crews all riled up. They're excitable, especially with the mines closed. There could be trouble if you don't go out there soon."

Cassandra's eyes flashed with worry.

"Jacob..." Castille said.

"I know."

I made this bed, and now I had to lie in it.

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