The Emerald Storm (The Riyria Revelations #4)

She took his face in her hands. “I wish you wouldn’t do that. I think you’re beautiful.”


He kissed her again.

Periodically, Hilfred would peek out at the sky and check the position of the moon. Eventually he returned and said, “It’s time.”

She nodded and once more Arista transformed into the morose visage of the Regent Saldur.

“I still can’t believe it,” Hilfred told her.

“I know. I’m really starting to get the hang of this. Care to kiss me again?” she asked, and laughed at his expression. “Now remember, don’t do anything. The idea is to just walk in, and walk out. No fighting, understand?”

Hilfred nodded.

They stepped out of the stable. As they did, Arista looked up at Modina’s window. It was dark, but she was certain she saw her figure sitting framed within it. Once again, she recalled her final words and regretted not asking her to come. Maybe she would have refused, but now that it was too late. She wished she had at least asked.

Nipper came out of the kitchens, yawning and carrying two empty water buckets. He stopped short, surprised to see them.

She ignored him and headed directly to the tower.

Just as before, the Seret Knight stood at attention in the center of the room, his face hidden, his shoulders back, the jeweled sword at his side.

“I am going to see Degan Gaunt. Open up.”

The guard drew his sword.

There was a brief moment of terror when Arista’s heart pounded so loudly she thought the seret might hear. She glanced at Hilfred and saw him flinch, his hand approaching his own weapon. Then the knight bent on one knee and lightly tapped the stone floor with the pommel. Immediately, the stones slid awrevealing a stair curving into the darkness.

“Shall I come with you, Your Grace?”

Arista considered this. She had no idea what was down there. It could be one cell or a maze of corridors. It might take her a long time to discover where Gaunt was. Just outside, she heard Nipper filling his buckets; the castle was already waking up.

“Yes, of course. Lead the way.”

“As you wish, Your Grace.” The knight pulled a torch from the wall and descended the steps.

It was dark inside. The stair was narrow and oppressive. Ahead, she could hear the sounds of faint weeping. The same heavy stones that made up the base of the tower formed the dungeon. Here however, decorations adorned the walls. Nothing recognizable, merely abstract designs carved everywhere. Arista felt she had seen them before, not these exactly, but similar ones.

Then she felt it.

Like the snap of a twig, or the crack of an egg, a tremor passed through her body—a sudden disconcerting break.

She looked down. The old man’s hands were gone. Revealed in the flickering torchlight she was seeing her own fingers, her own sleeves.

With his back turned, the knight continued to escort them. As he reached the bottom of the stairs he began to turn saying, “Your Grace, I—”

Before he was fully around, Hilfred shoved her aside.

He drew his sword just as the knight’s eyes widened. Driving his blade at the man’s chest. The black armor turned the tip. It skipped off, penetrating the gap between the chest plate and the right pauldron, piercing the man’s shoulder.

The knight cried out.

Hilfred withdrew his sword. The knight staggered backward, struggling to draw his own. Hilfred swung at the knight’s neck. Blood exploded, spraying both of them. The seret made no further noise as he crumpled and fell.

“What happened?” Hilfred asked picking up the torch.

“The walls,” she said, touching the chiseled symbols, “They have runes on them like in Gutaria Prison. I can’t do magic in here. Do you think anyone heard that?”

“I’m sure the kid fetching water did,” he said. “Will he do anything?”

“I don’t know. We should close the door,” Arista said, picking up the sword with the emerald and looking up the long staircase at the patch of light at the top. What they covered so casually minutes ago now appeared so far—so dangerous. “I’ll do it. You find Gaunt.”

“No. I won’t leave your side. There could be more guards. Forget the door, we’ll find him together and get out of here.” He took her left hand and pulled her along. Her right hand held onto the sword.

The hallways were narrow stone corridors without any light, except what came from the torch they held. The ceiling arched to a peak not more than a foot above Arista’s head, forcing Hilfred to stoop. Wooden doors began appearing on either side, so short they looked more like livestock gates.

“Gaunt!” Hilfred yelled.

“Degan Gaunt!” Arista shouted.

They ran down the darkened passageways pounding on doors calling his name and peering inside. The hallway ended at a T-intersection. With only one torch, there was no option to spilt up even if Hilfred could be convinced. They turned right and pressed on finding more doors.

“Degan Gaunt!”

“Stop!” Arista stopped suddenly.

“Wha—”

“Shush!”

Very faintly—“Here!”

They trotted down the next corridor, but reached a dead end.

“This place is a maze,” Arista said.

They ran back, and took another turn. They called again.

“Here! I’m here!” Came the reply, louder now.

Running once more they again met a solid wall. They retraced their steps, found another corridor that appeared to go in the right direction and followed it as far as the hallway allowed.

“Degan!” she cried.

“Over here!”

It was coming from the last door in the block.

en they reached it, Arista bent down and held up the torch. In the tiny grated window, she saw a pair of eyes. She grabbed the door handle and pulled—locked. She tried the gemstone but nothing happened.

“Damn it!” she cried. “The guard, he must have the key. Oh, how could I be so stupid? I should have searched him before we ran off.”

Hilfred hammered the wooden door with his sword. The hard oak, nearly as solid as stone, gave up only sliver size chips.

“We’ll never get the door open this way. Your sword isn’t doing anything! We have to go back for the keys.”

Hilfred continued to strike the door.

“We’ll be back, Degan!” Arista said, before starting back down the hall carrying the torch.

“Arista!” Hilfred shouted, as he chased after her.

They rounded the corridors, turning left then right and then— “Arista, my dear! What a surprise,” Saldur greeted her as they nearly ran into the regent.

Around him were five Seret Knights with swords drawn and torches held high.

Hilfred pushed Arista back. “Run!” he told her.

Saldur laughed. “There is nowhere to run to, dear boy. You’re both quite trapped.”