Miles walked in front of my horse, leading us through the dark forest. Despite draping several furs over his body, he shivered uncontrollably. His blood was slowing. If we stayed outside too long, it would stop completely. The night was no time for a yaksha to venture far from a fire. I was an exception. The potion that slowly poisoned my body also kept me from succumbing to the cold. Miles drank no such potion. Having a squire diminished my advantage of moving freely at night, but if my vast experience as a knight taught me anything, it was the importance of a good squire.

  I kept my horse at a slow trot, both to lessen the noise and to allow Miles to keep a steady pace. If he tired himself out, he’d be of little use to me. “How do you know this woman is a Void Wigon?”

  “A few nights ago, I ventured deeper into the forest than I normally go.” He paused. “I heard a horse groaning and grunting. Being so far out, I didn’t think another from the village would happen to be near, so I used caution. While staying in the thick brush, I found a decent vantage point.” He paused. “Just as I realized what I was seeing, the horse screamed. She sliced the tongue from its mouth.” Shuttering, he continued. “Then she removed its eyes.” He turned his head to face away from me.

  Before replying, I considered what he had witnessed. I couldn’t think of another explanation as to why someone would treat a horse in such a manner. Void Wigons, unlike True Blood and Naser Wigons, would use the blood of intelligent creatures. From what I had heard, many of their vile spells required the parts to be harvested while the animal or yaksha still lived. “Does she know you watched?”

  He shook his head. “I left the way I came, taking my time so she wouldn’t hear me.” His hand trembled as he scratched his nose. “I couldn’t be certain what horrible spell she would use on me if caught.” Glancing at me, he added. “I suggest you take her out fast, like you tried to do with me.”

  I shook my head. “For them to accept her head, I’ll need to bring proof that she is a Void Wigon. I don’t think your words alone will suffice, especially since Godfree has besmirched your character.” But that wasn’t the only reason. Crushing a man with my hammer would be nothing new. Many fell to its swift strike on the battlefield. Striking a woman would be different. Perhaps if she were trying to kill me, my instincts would override my reservations. But I didn’t think I could attack one that was defenseless. Especially while she slept in her bed. “Who does she lie with at night?”

  “She lives alone.”

  I raised my eyebrows. In Mallma, unlike the uncivilized land outside our large walls, women lived with their fathers until marriage, when they would move in with their husband. Only the type to walk the streets lived with neither. “Is she a harlot?”

  “I don’t believe so.” He shrugged. “But I never inquired.”

  “How much further?” I asked.

  “We’re almost there.” He lowered his voice. “Perhaps we should keep the chatter to a minimum from this point on.”

  I whispered, “When we reach the cottage, you stay outside until I tell you to enter.” I dismounted my horse and tied it to a tree. After digging into the bags, I handed a brown potion to Miles. “If I look in need of assistance, drink this. It will make you resistant to physical damage.”

  His eyes widened as he took a step back.

  The expression on his face wasn’t new to me. Yaksha who were loyal to the True Blood ways reacted as such when anyone suggested they stray. In this case, he was offered a potion by someone who wasn’t a Gothi nor a royal. “I received these under the authority of Prince Tilman to use as needed during my hunt. As you are my squire, my allowing you to use an authorized potion extends the royal permission granted to me.” I wiggled the potion, signaling for him to take it. “But only drink if necessary. It is the only of its type that I have.”

  He plucked the vial from my hand and stared at it. While drinking potions became a normal part of my life, those not knights or royals weren’t afforded the opportunity to partake often. Most would only experience healing spells, which were administered by Gothis.

  Sometimes I envied those who didn’t witness the devastation left in the wake of an army hopped up on armor and strength spells. “Put it away before you drop it.”

  He nodded before tucking the vial into a pouch on his belt. Then he spun around and pointed. “Half a shot in that direction.”

  I crept through the trees, stopping when I reached the front door. Pushing against it, I realized that, like Miles’s entrance, this one had a plank holding it secure. While I preferred not to startle her as I did Miles, I wouldn’t have much of a choice. Putting my hammer on my shoulder, I stepped back and readied my foot.

  The door slammed open with one kick, sending splinters of wood across the room. I rushed to the bed, holding the handle of my hammer with two hands as I peered down.

  Empty.

  Glancing around the dark room, I realized the fire didn’t provide enough light. I approached it, pulling a candle from my satchel and lighting it with the flame.

  In the corner of my eye, I watched as a lady snuck out from under the bed. She crawled slowly, moving toward the door.

  I spun, hustling toward her. She bolted to her feet and sprinted out the door.

  Stolen story; please report.

  “Stop!” Miles yelled.

  “Let me go!” The lady replied.

  I rushed out of the door.

  Miles struggled to keep hold of her, his arms locked around her waist as she slapped at him. “Grab her.”

  Advancing, I clasped her shoulder and squeezed.

  She stopped hitting him, turning to face me instead. Her eyes widened. “Stevyn the Brute.” Her legs wobbled before she dropped to her knees and hung her head. “You came to finish what you started?”

  I released her shoulder, reached down, and tilted her head toward me. She wasn’t a lady, but only a girl. My mind struggled to pull her name from its depths. Her mother was a servant of mine, coming into my service after she lost her husband in the war. I remembered seeing the daughter several times, thinking she looked like a miniature version of her mother. Same red hair. Same small nose and big eyes. Her name finally popped into my head. “Victoria.” I paused. “What do you think I came to finish?”

  “He told me.” Her face twisted into a scowl. “The guard that fetched my mother, he said you ordered all servants to the castle.” Her cheeks trembled. “She never returned. That guard came back for me, but he didn’t know I slept under my bed.” She locked eyes with me for a moment, then shifted her gaze. “You killed her. You murdered what little family I had left.”

  I shook my head. “They locked me in a dungeon. I had no way of knowing what they did, nor any means to stop it.”

  “They also said you’d come murder me too?”

  “The royals only released me so I could do their bidding. They want me to hunt down Void Wigons.” I nodded my head toward Miles. “My squire told me he knew of one. He led me to you.”

  Her eyebrows raised. “I’m not a Void Wigon.”

  My gaze fixed on Miles.

  “I saw you... in the forest... harvesting the horse.”

  Her face drew back in a flinch, then drooped into a frown. “I fled before they could murder me, but found myself with no means to live. I thought I would have to...” She shuddered. “...make money the way unwed fatherless girls tended to.” She shrugged. “I met a woman on the street who told me there was another way. She introduced me to someone who sells to Void Wigons.” She shook her head. “I don’t practice the dark arts, but I’ve done cruel things. Unforgivable things. Things that make me lie under the bed every sleepless night.”

  “Why under the bed?” Miles asked.

  “Really?” I glared at him. “She tells us all those horrible things, and your question is about her sleeping habits?”

  “You’re right, sir.” He stared at his shoes. “Since she harvests, which is also very illegal, do you think her head will count?”

  She drew back. “My head?”

  If my eyes could shoot fire, Miles would have burned. Instead, he took a step back and winced a bit when he saw the intensity in my stare.

  I made my voice as soft as possible. “Victoria, please stand.”

  She stood, her body trembling as she kept her eyes locked on me.

  “Your mother was more than a servant. She was a cherished friend, whom I had the privilege of getting to know. Her death was uncalled for and unacceptable. Eventually, I might find myself in a position to avenge such a wrong. But on this night, I must continue my hunt or wither away.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “He’s saying he doesn’t want to, but he must take your head.”

  “No!” I shooed Miles away. “Your head will be safe on your shoulders. If you choose to serve me, as your mother once had, then I will protect you as I should have her.” My voice quivered as I spoke of her mother. More than anything, I wanted to ensure no harm befell this innocent creature. But that wasn’t my sole rationale for making her a servant.

  My understanding of the dark arts was limited. If she learned what parts they would want harvested, she was vastly more knowledgeable on the subject than I. Plus, she knew where to find a man who sells ingredients to Void Wigons. He could lead me to more of them. I wasted a night’s travel on this for Godfree, and would have no potion to show for it. If I was to find a way out of this predicament, I’d need time. The more potions I had, the more time I had.

  “You kicked down my door to offer me a job?”

  “It doesn’t pay anything, so calling it a job is a bit of a stretch,” Miles said. “But if you don’t mind getting constantly yelled at and dragged through the cold night, then you might earn yourself a little bread to fill your belly.”

  “Please.” I flexed my jaw. “Don’t make her watch you get slapped to the ground on her first day of service.” I scanned the area. “You both must be getting cold. Let us go inside. We’ll continue our voyage under Patra’s warmth.”

  Once inside, I used the table and some larger scraps from the broken door to build another, using it to cover the opening as best as possible. It didn’t need to last long, just keep the heat in and any prying eyes out for a night.

  “What can you tell me about the man who buys these ingredients?” I asked Victoria.

  Her shoulders drooped, and she stared at her shoes. “What I’ve done...” She shook her head. “My heart broke every time I had to harm an animal.”

  “You felt like that was your only choice.” I shook my head. “Except for one even less appealing one. You don’t have to give me details about your actions, nor justify them. But please tell me everything you know about this yaksha.”

  Her eyes widened. “Are you going to kill him?”

  I shrugged. “He might not be a Void Wigon, but just someone profiting from their evil magic.”

  She flinched.

  “I’m not...” Wishing I hadn’t worded it so harshly, since she too profited from such, I moved on. “Speaking to him will provide information about the Void Wigons.” I walked over and lifted her chin to meet her eyes. “If he participated in this trade out of necessity, like you have, I’ll give him an opportunity to redeem himself.”

  Her eyes brightened. “If I help you to capture Void Wigons, will Othin forgive me?”

  “I’m not a Gothi, but if we asked such a man of the cloth, I’d imagine he would say yes.”

  A weak smile found her face. She closed her eyes as she shared what she knew of the yaksha who traded in forbidden magic. “He said his name is Gitto. But I’ve never heard such a strange name. I don’t know where he lives, but based on things he had said, I believe he travels a lot, buying and selling as he moves.”

  “He works alone.”

  She winced, as if thinking of something she despised. “No. I’ve seen him several times with a much scarier man. I think they are partners.” She thought for a moment. “He said his name once.” Running her hand through her hair, she finally blurted out, “Krok.” She grinned. “Another strange name.”

  The names weren’t just strange, but sounded like tysaura names, which made no sense. The Tysaura used their real names and appearances when on their own island. But they would assume the likeness and name of another when traveling to the mainland. The Tysaura, followers of the Azar Wigon ways, were the perfect spies. Like us, they despised those partaking in the dark arts.

  “How do you find this Gitto?”

  “We have a meeting spot in the forest. He lights a fire when he is there to let me know to come out. He stays only for a short time.”

  “Do you expect him soon?”

  She nodded. “The ingredients he tasked me with harvesting need to be sold when they are still fresh. If not this night, then he’ll be here the next.”

  As much as I didn’t want to wait any longer, this man could be my key to getting several Wigons. Turning them in will give me enough potions to relieve some pressure.