2. Kami

2

Kami

R ilitar's private residence is a mini castle situated strategically surrounded by dense forest and bordered by a private road. It's made of thick stone and is large enough to house a small army.

There are two towers at either end of the building with front-facing turrets occupied by fae archers—the kind that don't miss. The large, front double-doors are wide enough to allow two ogres to stand side by side without touching the doorframe.

Behind and beside the castle are woods guarded by roving earth fae and a few approved beasts. According to the info I've gathered, griffins, kitsunes, a few leshy, and a curupira or two made deals with the mob boss to protect the back side of his abode in exchange for leaving them the hell alone.

Rilitar's residence is also not too distant from Lake Lancer, with a cleared road to the pier.

All in all, he's got a pretty sweet setup.

We're escorted in by an orc and two fae, though plenty more tough types patrol the grounds .

I've seen the two fae around before. They're sylphs, fae who control the elements. One is definitely an air sylph, but I'm not sure of the other. Fire or earth, I'm thinking. She doesn't feel like a water sylph to me.

The orc is different from what I'm used to. I find him…interesting.

Most orcs are large, incredibly strong and bulging with muscle. They have dark hair, greenish skin, and overlocking lower fangs that give them a primitive appearance. But what most people don't know is that orcs tend to have above-average intelligence despite their brutishness.

This guy looks like a cross between an orc and a regular. His skin is a gray-green, but he doesn't have the large lower fangs. He's tall and muscular but not as large as some orcs I've seen. His hands are huge, though, and he's got red eyes.

Come to think of it, he reminds me of an ogre in a way, which would make him a monster, a blend of orc and ogre. And that's odd, because Rilitar's people seriously disdain anyone not fully fae.

The orc gives us a dismissive look before walking away, leaving us guarded by the two sylphs.

"Nice weather we're having, eh?" Ahza says.

Not a great one for small talk.

The sylphs ignore him and start conversing in low voices to each other, complaining about the new shifts Folas has them working.

Apparently, there's been an ongoing turf war with a new gang boss in Godtown, the district to the south of Lancer.

Sacred Lakes is divided into three sections, or districts, each claiming one of the city lakes.

Lancer is the town above Lake Lancer.

To the east is Lake of the Asrai and its corresponding town of Asrai .

And to the south lie Lake Divine and Godtown.

When we arrived in Sacred Lakes, we'd learned enough to steer clear of the southern district and its ongoing struggles for leadership. Lancer seemed the most stable—and corrupt—of all the districts, so we settled here.

No one looks twice at us or asks too many questions about what we get up to. And since we work diligently on behalf of the head guy himself, we've been fortunate to make some real coin.

Ahza wanted to settle in Asrai for a bit, but its mostly rich fae and farmland all over the place. Who wants to steal lettuce and carrots when we can make real profit thieving valuable potions and salves? Not to mention the rare herbs we've been selling on the black market Rilitar doesn't seem to know about.

If he does, he does nothing about it, and that doesn't seem likely.

He's an earth sylph. More importantly, he's an elf.

Everyone knows the elves are savages. Of all the fae who came through during The Meld, when all the planes in existence merged, the elves were the most brutal of them all. Blood-thirsty creatures bent on war and victory at all costs, they killed more than demons and spawn combined.

In most places, being an elf is a strike against you. But here, in Sacred Lakes, the elves are treated like royalty.

Tall, strong, and extremely quick, they're hard to defeat in battle.

Or so I've heard. I've never had the misfortune to run into one before Rilitar.

I'm almost excited to meet him. We've only been dealing with Folas until now.

I look around at the parlor where we've been stashed. The furniture is worn but attractive, the carpet over the stone floor decorative if heavily trafficked. Upon the walls are paintings worth a small fortune.

And of course, in the corner, a life-size copper statue of Beyrthnel, a fae god of war and the town deity to which everyone prays.

In every district, including the neutral, central area ruled over by the monarch, stands a temple. The people gather once every two weeks to give worship and recite hymns to their battle god.

Ahza and I have been absent on those occasions, hiding out in town. It's mandatory that everyone, citizen or not, attend worship.

But we learned a long time ago that gods aren't worthy of our love. So we ignore that rule, like we ignore all the rules we don't agree with.

I glance around again and see the sylphs staring at us.

I elbow Ahza, who sits up straighter, no longer eyeing the painting by the west-facing window with avarice.

"Yeah?" I ask, attitude lining my question.

The tall blond asks, "What are you?"

"Rude." I frown.

"That you are," Ahza mutters and coughs to hide a laugh. Today his ears are properly pointed, his eyes slightly larger and a bright blue, his face overly attractive. He's even given himself a few inches of height and a sixth digit on each hand.

I'm slightly short for a fae, though my ears are pointed and my skin is now a light peachy-brown. My hair is dark, and though I only have five fingers, my nails are sharp and green. Pretty.

"No," the other fae, the woman with brown hair, frowns. "You're something else."

Shoot. I wonder if she's picking up on my weird heritage. Or worse, my death proclivities .

No one knows. Relax, idiot. A mantra I continually repeat when in social situations, which is why I usually leave all the schmoozing to Ahza. I don't really like people much.

Hell, at all.

The sylph's partner cocks his head. "No, she's fae, just not like us." He keeps studying me. "Most of us came from the same sect, our ancestors part of the same tribes when we came through in the Great Merge. A lot of elf and sylph energy thrives in Sacred Lakes."

I nod, grasping that excuse. "Ah, that makes sense. Ahza and I are new transplants to Sacred Lakes. I'm a dryad."

The sylphs seem to relax, and I realize they were tensed, prepared to…what? Kick my ass if I hadn't offered a better background?

"Now I see it." The woman smiles. "We don't have enough of your kind around. Have you been to the orchards of Asrai yet?"

Because of course dryads are only interested in trees.

"No. We've been so busy for your boss we haven't made the time to visit yet," Ahza says before I can screw up our backstory. "We're hoping he'll have a job for us in Asrai, to be honest."

The sylphs smile and start gabbing about the other districts, which is useful information we've already heard but I enjoy hearing anyway, confirming what I already know.

Asrai tends toward gentlemen farmers and those inclined toward agricultural wealth. Godtown offers opportunities for those attracted to the military, where the town barracks are housed. They do a lot of business with merchants interested in weaponry and combat skills.

Not like here in Lancer, where Rilitar rules the drug and medical trade. And everything else he wants to rule. The big boss takes a piece out of everyone's pockets then delivers the bulk of wealth to the fae monarch, Goras Vamyar, an honest-to-goodness light elf.

Maybe someday I'll get to see him too. For now, the wait to meet the great Rilitar is straining my nerves.

I really hope he hasn't caught on to what we've been doing. Maybe coming here wasn't the best idea. I had a bad feeling earlier I told myself to ignore, mostly because Ahza has been buzzing about seeing a real elf for a long time. I think he's got a fae-crush on our mysterious boss.

But that bad feeling persists.

There's more than just unrest with the territory war in the south. Something's been building in Lancer too. A morbid excitement for some kind of tournament that's coming up.

No matter how hard Ahza and I have tried to find information on it, no one's talking to outsiders like us.

But we've made it to Rilitar's, I remind myself. We're not outsiders any more.

The orc from earlier makes an appearance at the doorway, his face blank. "He's ready for you."

As we pass him, I catch a weird expression on his face. Before I can read it, it's gone.

A few steps down the hallway, past more armed guards, and we're in a large office with a view of the forest in all its wild glory.

And there, framed by the wilderness and two sets of fae guards, sits Rilitar.

Our savior, or our jailer?