Prologue
Footsteps pounded amid the stench and darkness.
Alexi’s ears twitched and he stirred to life, rising from the slimy stone floor. Please, please be coming to take me away from this place.
The encroaching steps mingled with the whimpers and moans that sounded from every corner of the rancid dungeon. Alexi refused to add his own cries to the mix, although the bruises that stung his cheek and stomach sure warranted a few yelps. No, he was surely there by mistake. When his master heard of this there would be justice, of that he was certain. That thought alone had sustained him between his short bouts of restless sleep since being tossed into this slice of the depths.
The footsteps came to a halt. Alexi peered through the darkness from the back of his cell and spotted the candlelit outline of a brutish figure outside the iron-barred doors.
‘Up and at ’em, dungworm!’ The man’s voice bounced off the walls, the echo mixing with the groans and cries of all those who lay in their neighbouring hovels.
Alexi stumbled forward and gripped hold of the iron bars, grasping them tight.
‘You got some finery, ain’t ya?’ The man eyed Alexi up and down. His stare widened, pushing down chubby red cheeks. ‘A nice blue doublet, bright pants, and cufflinks. They will fetch a pretty penny in town.’
Alexi’s heart rate quickened and sweat coated his palms, causing his hands to slip down the bars of the cell.
‘I heard you put up a good chase for some of the boys a few nights ago when they finally tracked you down,’ he continued, jangling his keys before Alexi. He jutted a fat thumb at his own chest. ‘If ol’ Reed had been there you would be in here with plenty more bruises, I’ll tell you that much. In any case, now it’s your time to really shine, my old flower. The head of Mount Valion has a few questions for you today, so you’re going to be on your best behaviour this evening.’ He popped a key into the lock and tapped his knuckles on the iron bars, forcing Alexi to let go – he nearly buckled under his own weight. ‘Now, I haven’t had my porridge yet, so a chase is out of the question. If you decide to scarper, it’s a bolt to the back.’ He lifted a crossbow and rested it on his shoulder beside his great trunk of a neck.
Alexi pressed himself against the cell door and grabbed hold of the bars again. Everything spun around him. The bars of the cell were the only thing keeping him grounded in this madness. ‘What in the name of all the gods is going on?’ His voice sounded foreign to him as it scratched against his throat. He hadn’t realised how thirsty he was till he spoke.
Reed’s eyes narrowed. ‘What’s going on?’ he repeated with a thin wry smile. ‘You are going to be meeting the head of the household today. I believe his name is well known in Kalverif, and in fact across all of Falstaff. The Husk ring any bells for you?’
Alexi let go of the bars of the door and felt as though he may as well let go of all hope also. His gaze dropped to the damp floor.
That bastard can’t be real, Alexi thought. He’s a fairy tale. Nonsense to scare stubborn old fools away from the tavern early so they’re not caught unawares in the night. His head throbbed along with his heaving heart. ‘Please … n-no,’ Alexi whimpered, barely able to let the sentence leave his lips. ‘What c-could he possibly w-want with me? I have nothing of value and know nothing of value. I am simply a handservant.’
Through stinging eyes, Alexi saw his tormentor’s face light up.
‘And that is exactly why he wants to talk to you!’ Reed said. ‘Don’t worry, everything will make sense in due course. You never know, today mightn’t be your last day to take a breath. I mean, it probably is, but it mightn’t be either, so there’s that little glimmer of hope to power your arse up those stairs to my employer.’
Reed swung open the steel bars and grabbed Alexi by the arm, heaving him towards the spiral staircase. ‘The boss is a logical man, because of his … gift.’
‘Others would say curse if the rumours were true,’ Alexi muttered.
Reed laughed and gave Alexi a strong pat on the back. ‘And you know what?’ he said. ‘Others would be absolutely fucking right!’
*
Two guards stood on either side of the dungeon entrance when Alexi reached the top. Reed gripped Alexi’s elbow again with force and gave his comrades a swift salute with his free hand. The largest of the two guards scowled and moved in front of them. Reed pushed past him with his shoulder, but they were forced to a halt as a brutish arm was raised in front of them.
‘One of these days, Reed, you’re going to get the whole lot of us strung up like some poor fucking hounds if you keep hollering,’ the smaller of the two guards said. He lowered his arm and moved closer, his forehead close to butting against Reed’s. ‘Your prickish giggling could be heard all over the castle, even when you’re down in that septic dungeon.’ His scowl turned his face a vibrant red and foam gathered at the corners of his mouth.
Reed thrust Alexi forward, using him as a meat shield against his tomato-faced comrade. ‘You need to tone it down, lad,’ he said with a smirk. ‘There ain’t nothing wrong with having a laugh every now and again. Gods know I need one, working in this place. You could do with having one yourself. Do want to hear a joke?’
The guard drew closer, his fists clenching and unclenching, the leather of his gloves cracking and groaning. Alexi grimaced and squinted at the encroaching skirmish. No doubt Reed felt a sight braver with an extra body between him and his would-be assailant.
‘I’ll have a good laugh when he breaks your fucking neck, Reed, don’t you worry about that,’ the guard said. His clenched fist turned into a pointed finger, close to jabbing Reed between the eyes. ‘You’ve been told again and again he doesn’t appreciate pissing about on the watch, and you know as well as I do that laughing for all to hear is included in that.’ He backed away, his face returning to a pinkish hue. ‘You’re new here, but that won’t keep you from reaping what you sow.’
Guards from the courtyard moved inside. A cold wind swept into the entrance hall, whipping the candlelight and making shadows dance in the darkening night. The hall lay bare and the light of the moon only served to emphasise the destitution within the castle’s walls. Cobwebs and cracks marked a lot of the stones that held the castle aloft. Half-torn banners fluttered gently with the breeze, and dark red stains stood out on elaborately designed carpets and tarnished some of the stone that wasn’t covered. None of the guards appeared to notice, however. Their stares rested on Reed. Dozens of men jostled and pointed at the developing altercation with their lips curled in anticipation of war.
Alexi shut his eyes and basked in the cool, fresh breeze, hoping it would ease the ferocity of his fear. It must have been over thirty hours since wind tickled his face and air untainted by death coated his nostrils.
A heavy tug on his arm jolted him back to the present.
‘You need to relax for a bit, chief,’ Reed shouted over his shoulder, leading Alexi away. ‘After all, rules are made to be broken!’ They swiftly turned a dimly lit corner at the end of the foyer under a set of stairs.
‘Not in this place,’ came the guard’s yell from behind them. ‘But you’ll learn that soon enough!’
*
Alexi’s fingers twitched. A frozen edge cut through the air and it grew with every step towards his fateful meeting with ‘the Husk’.
In the town of Kalverif, people dismissed him as a myth – nothing more than a person whose name and story had become bigger than the reality. In the alehouses he frequented, the tales of the Husk were as common as spilt wine. In one version, the Husk had the eyes of a serpent and a forked tongue to go along with it. In another, he was a powerful magus who conjured the fiercest and blackest sorcery seen since the Thorned War five hundred years ago. He could blacken a field of freshly grown crops with the snap of a finger or make a poor bastard’s organs appear in front of him by marking a symbol in the air. It was waved away as horseshit and the blissfully ignorant folk in the alehouses got a good kick out of it whenever his name was thrown about. Now, Alexi would meet him, face to face – that was if the Husk even had a face. Did the rumours that had spread in Kalverif over the last few months have any seeds of truth?
Reed gave him a slap between the shoulder blades. ‘There’s no need to look so glum. As I said, he might set you free after this.’ A mocking sarcasm tarnished his voice.
The two men came to a decorated oak door, a piece of woodwork that seemed wildly out of place in the cold air and dim grey stone walls surrounding it. Alexi’s mind drifted to the manor as he gazed upon it and a terrible longing filled his gut.
Reed pounded his fist on the glistening dark wood. ‘Got the handservant from Kalverif here for his meeting,’ he bellowed.
The door was opened from the other side by a young woman. Alexi met her piercing eyes and recoiled. Potent anger emanated from behind their emerald shade, compounded by the darkness of her short hair and her heavily marked armour.
‘Apologies for the delay, Flora,’ Reed continued, eyeing her from her head to toe. ‘I got a bit of hassle from some innocent prick on my way over and this one here wasn’t too keen to leave his cell when he heard who he was meeting. I hope you can forgive me.’ Reed ran a palm over a few invisible tears.
Flora reached down to rest her hands on the hilt of her daggers. ‘It’s not me you have to apologise to, Reed,’ she said, her eyes never leaving Alexi. ‘Now you better get inside before you make things any more complicated for yourself.’ Her breath turned into a cool smoke as she spoke, the words nearly crystallising before the two men.
They stepped into the room with Alexi held out in front. His teeth chattered at the empty fireplace, and for a fleeting moment his wish for it to be lit overcame his fear of the current situation. Daggers hung proudly on the high walls, exquisite engravings lining the blades along with signs of wear. A gigantic oak table littered with the remains of cooked chicken and copious amounts of parchment stood in the centre with a grand red carpet beneath. The dying heat of the chicken flowed off the bones, the last source of warmth in the room.
As Alexi’s mouth watered at the shredded meat, he glimpsed a haunting figure sitting behind the table.
The shadowed shape ran both hands through jet-black hair, parting the glinting grey strands that were scattered throughout. His deadpan, unflinching stare bored into the two men. A forced smile drew across the figure’s thin lips, like a blunt chisel failing to carve into pale marble.
‘Sit,’ the Husk said, gesturing at the prisoner and pointing at the empty chair across from him. His voice demanded compliance. ‘Reed, go and stand at the door. There’s no need for you to stand over our guest’s shoulder anymore.’
Alexi felt the space open up behind him with each of Reed’s heavy steps. A chill ran up his spine and he wished he still had someone at his shoulder, even if it was a thug. Meeting the dark gaze across from him felt almost impossible when forced to do it alone. ‘Now, what shall I call you?’ the Husk continued. ‘I believe the folk in Kalverif refer to me as the Husk, but you can call me Kallas.’
Alexi sat and gazed down at his shaking hands. A blue hue had replaced the usual pinkish tones. Was it from the cold or the fear, or perhaps a combination of both?
‘It’s Alexi, my n-name is Alexi.’ Alexi looked up when saying his name but couldn’t meet Kallas’s eyes. Darkness lay behind their consuming brown shade – a nothingness that threatened to swallow him whole.
‘Alexi. Excellent.’ Kallas leaned forward in his seat, a rising creak following his movement.
Alexi tried to back away but couldn’t move any further without breaking through the back of the wooden chair.
‘Now tell me, Alexi, why do the people of Kalverif refer to me as the Husk? I have my suspicions. However, I want to hear it from your mouth, so please oblige me.’
‘You have to understand, sir, it’s just talk among the people. W-we have to fill our off time with something, and—’
Kallas raised his hand in front of Alexi’s face. ‘I didn’t ask why you talk,’ he said. ‘I asked why do you and the people in Kalverif refer to me as the Husk? Now, answer the question this time.’ Kallas’s tone of voice hadn’t changed since they had entered the room. A flat and monotonous droll, but with the weight of authority behind it. Every raspy word poked the ears like daggers.
‘W-we refer to you as th-the Husk because some folks believe …’ Alexi let out an exasperated gasp, steadying himself. ‘Some folks believe you don’t feel anything. They believe you lack the ability to feel emotion. To feel … pain. B-But you have to understand that this is all just goss—’
‘They are correct,’ Kallas said. ‘I suppose rumours can spread. I suppose in Kalverif I am a big monster who lies in the mountains and my tale has drifted down towards your little town.’ Kallas leaned back in his chair, his legs crossed. ‘This time, however, the rumours seem to have been right on target. That’s a surprise, Alexi. You wouldn’t believe the amount of ridiculous drivel that has crossed my ears. Some people have said I am a dark magus, others a shapeshifter, and the one before you said I was an ice sorcerer.’ He raised both hands into the air, gesturing to the glacial atmosphere around him. ‘I can see where they got that one from. You have to understand, though,’ he said, leaning forward again in his chair, ‘that everything’s cold when you can’t feel anything.’
He rose and the full extent of the man’s stature was revealed. Despite being framed by a long, dark violet coat, his lean build was obvious. Bright blue veins reached up from his chest to his lower neck like sick worms digging to the surface of his shirt collar.
‘Now, let’s get this done,’ Kallas said. ‘The reason you are here, Alexi, is that I want you to give me all the information you possibly can on the people for whom you work.’ Kallas positioned himself behind Alexi and rested both his hands on his chair. ‘All the information, however, isn’t worth a damn if you aren’t working for whom I think you are, so I want you to confirm something for me.’ Kallas took his hands off the chair and rested them on Alexi’s shoulders before continuing, the icy fingers digging in ever so slightly. ‘Do you work for the Fortem family?’
Alexi couldn’t lie and, as Reed had said, there was a chance he might get out of this alive if he behaved himself. ‘Y-yes, sir, I do,’ he stuttered.
Kallas released his grip and went to stand across the table from him. ‘Good,’ he said. ‘I need to know how many are in the house, not including yourself, and I need to know whether the lord of the house is still looking for a mentor for his son. I have word that this is the case. Am I correct?’
Alexi adjusted himself in his seat. The cold was an afterthought now, but the fear was sinking in even deeper. No matter how much he wanted to ask if he would be safe, or why the Husk wanted this information, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything except answer the questions.
‘There are five in the house besides me,’ Alexi said. ‘The cook, the cleaner, the stablemaster, and finally, there are my employers, Lord Byram Fortem and his son Master Deven.’ Alexi raised a clenched fist to his mouth and cleared his throat, emptying the cold air from his lungs. ‘You are correct that they are looking for a mentor and counsellor for Master Deven. He is not taking the path Lord Byram would wish for, and he hopes a tutor, preferably a teacher from the College of Ashvari, will take him under his wing.’
Kallas returned to his seat. ‘So, if Lord Byram wants someone from the College of Ashvari to look over his son, then he intends for him to focus on learning the blade, and perhaps even follow in his father’s footsteps and hone his abilities, if they are there at all. Are they close to finding anyone to undertake this task?’
‘I believe so,’ Alexi answered. ‘Lord Fortem has been corresponding with the master of the college and they have recently finalised the details.’
‘Hmm, the College of Ashvari – now that is fortunate.’ Kallas rose from his chair and adjusted his coat. ‘Alexi, I would like to thank you for all the information you have provided. It will be of great benefit to my current undertaking. Won’t it, Reed?’ Alexi shifted in his seat and looked around as Kallas stared intently at his surprised underling, whose arms were wrapped around his shuddering chest.
The robust man cleared his throat and rubbed his light blue hands together. ‘Uh, yes, sir, it will,’ Reed stuttered.
Alexi couldn’t help but relish the terrible warmth that spread in his chest; the man who was so cruel to him earlier sounded no braver than a child being scolded.
‘Do you know what isn’t useful, Reed?’ Kallas continued. ‘Inefficiency. There’s nothing that can slow a plan down more than inefficiency, and you, Reed, have become a rusty cog in an otherwise well-oiled machine.’
Kallas nodded to Flora and as quick as light her hand moved through the air. She dragged her dagger sharply across the back of Reed’s legs behind the kneecap and he collapsed to the floor, howling in agony. He tried to push himself up and rest on his hands as a pool of blood gathered underneath his quivering legs.
‘Wh-what the fuck is this!’ Reed groaned as he struggled to stand, failing again and again.
Kallas now stood above him with Flora at his side, wiping her dagger clean. ‘I have word from trusted sources that you got inebriated the night you were supposed to be leading the excursion to escort our friend, who is seated behind me, back to Mount Valion.’ Kallas crouched and lifted Reed’s chin with his hand and peered into his eyes.
‘S-sir, please, the boys are lying to you,’ Reed stammered. ‘I would n—’ Kallas dropped Reed’s chin and smacked the left side of his face with the back of his hand. The sound of skin breaking skin echoed around the room and reverberated off the chilled stone walls.
Flora bit her lip and squinted at the sound of it.
‘Not only that,’ Kallas said, ‘I have heard your incessant laughing, shouting, and cursing echoing through my halls, poisoning my ears.’ He gripped Reed’s chin again with his left hand and rested his right on the back of his shaking head. ‘You know what, Reed?’ he whispered. ‘If I could hate, I’m damn sure I’d hate you.’ With that, Kallas snapped Reed’s neck with one swift twist of both hands. His lifeless body clattered on the floor as Kallas stood and wiped both of his hands on his coat. He turned his gaze to meet Alexi who sat with his mouth agape, unsure whether to look at the dead body before him, or the murderer.
‘Alexi,’ Kallas said, ‘this is where we say goodbye.’
The handservant shuffled in his chair, his mind numb. ‘You’re letting me go?’ Alexi asked, a hint of hope in his voice.
‘No,’ Kallas replied. ‘I can’t do that, and I’m sure an intelligent man like you will understand why.’
Alexi’s stomach twisted with fear as he shot up from his chair, tears forming under the lids of his eyes. ‘B-but why? I did everything you asked, and I cooperated fully!’
‘And your information will be a great help to me, I promise you that,’ Kallas said, walking closer to Alexi. ‘Don’t worry. You will not suffer. If I could, I would relish feeling the flurry of emotions you are feeling now. Tell me, do you feel more alive now, in these mere moments before death, than you ever have?’
Alexi resigned himself to the pale hand that rested upon his shoulder, and his remaining embers of hope flickered out. ‘You’re a monster,’ he muttered between sobs.
‘Yes,’ Kallas replied, placing his free hand over Alexi’s heart. ‘But that’s what makes me human.’ A deep hum and a vibration fluttered over Alexi’s chest.
*
Alexi collapsed to the floor, his dead eyes holding on to the last of his tears. Kallas gazed down at him. He almost expected to feel something as he stared at the corpse. If he focused hard enough, he could nearly feel the joy at such a sight squirming away under the surface of his skin. But it was always out of reach, like a familiar word that fails to make its way off the tip of the tongue. He turned to face Flora. ‘I’ll leave you to clean up Reed.’
‘No problem,’ Flora said, twirling one dagger in her hand. ‘For the river this time, or shall I turn him to ashes?’
‘I don’t care. As for our informant here, you know what to do.’ He stepped over Alexi’s body and sat back at his desk. ‘Things are moving swiftly,’ he whispered to himself, looking at his hands on the table before him. ‘The wheels are turning.’
