"So it is down to just the three of us?"Lira's voice was flat, her eyes lingering on Thorne as he ruffled his unruly curls.
"A shield-bearer, a priestess, and a knight meet the bare minimum," he sighed. "We're still short a bow. Got any friends who can shoot straight, Priestess?"
"It's Lira—and no."
Thorne shrugged and turned toward Kael. "Know an archer we can hire?"
"None, I trust."
"Same here. Finding one will cost coin and time, two things we don't have." Thorne exhaled. "Still—there's a chance the missing squad's alive. If we wait, they won't be."
"I'm with Sir Kael," Lira said. "If even a single person can be saved, we should move."
Thorne muttered something about "missin',g," meaning "probably dead," then brightened with a thought. "What about a wanderer from the Night Temple? Followers of the Dusk Lady don't always register with the guild."
"Because they can't," Kael reminded him. "I'm not dragging another unknown into this."
"Yeah—most of them are half-mad anyway," Thorne grumbled, then added quickly, "Present company excluded!"
"Watch your tongue," Kael said, ending the debate.
They filed a mission notice; Guildmaster Garland met them at the desk."Thorne, Sir Kael, Lady Lira—your gear and the wagon are ready. May fortune travel with you."
Outside the gates, Thorne took the reins."Why do you assume I can't drive?" Lira protested."Can you?" Kael asked."…No. But don't assume."
Thorne rolled his eyes and clucked the horses forward. Sunlight baked the road; Kael wiped his new longsword with oiled cloth, hoping this one would survive longer than the last. Lira, lost in a dog-eared prayer book, glowed beneath the noon light—so serene she might have been a saint in a fresco, if anyone but the trio had been watching. Thorne, bored to tears, finally blurted:
"Let's talk. Like how Sir Kael gutted Mawbear-boy Miles and cashed in—"
Kael's polishing halted. "Where'd you hear that?"
"In this trade? News has wings. Big haul yesterday, thieves at your door tomorrow." Thorne grinned. "Not that any cut-purse in Dunhollow is crazy enough to rob a Dread Sentinel."
Lira shut her book with a snap. "You profited from killing?"
The nuance twisted. Kael sighed and explained the whole story—Garland's request, the slaughtered village, and Miles' betrayal. When he finished, Lira's hands trembled around her book.
"I never imagined such horror so near the capital…"
"Happens all the time," Thorne said with a shrug. "Kingdoms centuries old crumble; a lost hamlet barely makes a rumor."
Kael almost envied Lira's conscience—an emotion his half-undead heart no longer managed.
Hooves drummed. Silence returned.
Three days later, Spine Ridge clawed at the sky, its knife-like peaks brushing the distant Dragonbone Range. Owlbears and eater packs had abandoned this slope, driven out by something worse.
Thorne gulped. "Big place to search."
"If the beasts ran, they left a trail," Kael answered.
Thorne wasn't convinced, but the knight's certainty settled his nerves. He halted the wagon short of the foothills.
"Food first—can't fight on an empty gut."
Kael felled a sapling for firewood, Thorne fetched water, and Lira unpacked the pot. When the stew began to bubble, she held out her hands.
"Join me in prayer."
Kael raised a brow; Thorne managed a faint "Huh?"
Lira ignored them. "O Gentle Light, bless this meal—"
Thorne mumbled, "Garland packed it, you know," but she prayed on. To her, a blessing benefited every ear that caught it.
Dark Sentinels, though, revered dusk, not dawn. In some eyes, Lira's prayer bordered on an insult.
Thorne glanced anxiously at Kae, just as the knight removed his helm and smiled to Thorne's shock.
"You can smile?"
"Remembered my grandfather," Kael murmured. "He recited a verse before every meal, even in a land where half the folk disbelieved the gods."
"A cursed realm, sounds like," Thorne muttered.
"My grandfather kept his faith but never forced it on others," Kael said, gaze fixed on Lira. "I respect that. Do you understand?"
Lira's cheeks warmed. "I… was out of line. Forgive me."
"Next time, I pray to Thorne."
"Why drag me into—yeow!" Thorne yelped as Kael yanked him forward, just as a steel spike sliced the air where his head had been.
Kael rose, sword sliding free. "Looks like company."