The Forgotten Queen

by Matt Glicksman

  "Oh yeah? Where about?"

  Millan struggled to remember Don Jaisse's brief explanation of the city's layout from the previous day. He didn't want to be associated with Candelux or the nobility. "Uh, north. In the north."

  "No kidding. I grew up there myself. What part? Which family? Aunt? Uncle?"

  The Nesinu priest felt his stomach churn. His lips parted, but it wasn't words that were looking to escape. "It…uh…it was…" He doubled over and some pieces of his breakfast landed at his feet.

  "Whoa, you all right? Looks like you had some bad eggs."

  Millan quickly wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me. I think maybe I should head home."

  "Not a bad idea. I can give you a hand if you like. Where's home?" the stranger asked.

  More food was fighting its way up his throat, but Millan stopped its progress. Light-headed, he panted and put his hands on his knees.

  "Are you sure you're all right? You look like you're about to pass out. How about we hop inside the restaurant real quick, sit down, and get your stomach settled."

  Millan wanted to resist, but the man put his arm around the priest's shoulder and led him through the door. As they entered the restaurant, the man shouted, "Can we get some water for this poor guy? He's about to faint."

  The stranger gently shoved Millan into a chair and sat opposite him at the table.

  A woman approached them and deposited two glasses of water on the table. "Anything to eat? Bless the angels! Aksilacarn? Is that you?"

  The man turned away for a moment before donning a smile and facing the waitress. "It is indeed. Good to see you again, Ursula."

  "What's it been? Two, three years?"

  "Sounds about right."

  Ursula put her hand on her hip. "Know what you want to eat?"

  "Give us a minute. Thanks."

  After the woman walked away, Aksilacarn reached his hand across the table. "With all the excitement out there, I never introduced myself, but I guess Ursula's done that for me. My name's Aksilacarn, but most call me Aksil."

  The priest shook his hand. "Millan." Panic settled in again. He had just blurted it out without considering if this stranger had heard the name from somewhere.

  To Millan's relief, Aksil showed no sign of recognizing the name. "Nice to meet you. Drink up."

  Millan took a few gulps and washed the vomit taste from his mouth. His head started to return to normal.

  "Better?"

  "Much. Thank you. I'm so sorry about earlier."

  "Don't mention it. Once you're in top shape, we can get you home."

  Millan nodded. "Thanks."

  "So, you were telling me about your family in Light's Haven when we got interrupted. Hopefully, it wasn't the thought of your family that forced you to vomit."

  "No, no, of course not."

  "So, who do you know here?"

  Millan drank as casually as possible, sparing him some precious seconds to come up with a cover story. "My grandfather used to live here."

  "Used to? He died?"

  "No, he's still around. We came here a few years ago to help him move so he can live with me and my parents. He was getting too old to take care of himself." The truth was that Millan never knew either of his grandparents. His parents refused to speak on the subject, except to tell him that both sets of grandparents had died before he was born.

  "That's a shame. I hope I never get so old I can't live on my own terms."

  Ursula returned to the table. "Ready?"

  Aksil clapped his hands. "Thank you so much for the water. Unfortunately, my friend and I have to be on our way."

  "Aw, nonsense. Your friend still looks pretty pale. He could use some lunch. You too."

  "Tempting, but he doesn't have any money to pay you, and I'm a little short myself."

  Ursula frowned momentarily before brightening up. "On the house then. For old times' sake. It's not every day an old friend comes strolling through the door. The meat pies are just about to come out of the oven. Once it cools a bit, I'll bring over a couple of pieces and you can be on your way."

  "Hmm, meat pie was always a favorite of mine." Aksil seemed to hesitate as he surveyed the room. "If you insist. Thank you."

  "That's very kind, thank you," Millan added.

  "No problem," she said before sauntering off.

  "What were we discussing again?" Aksil asked.

  Millan glared at him. "How did you know I had no money?"

  "Sorry?"

  "You said, 'he doesn't have any money to pay you.' How did you know?"

  Aksil's lip quivered as if suppressing a grin. "Simple deduction. By the looks of your outfit, I would guess those aren't your clothes. Borrowed?"

  "Maybe. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have any money."

  "True, but I also checked your pockets when we were outside. Broke as bums, I'm afraid."

  "What? You checked my pockets? You tried to rob me?"

  "Rob you?" With an exaggerated gasp, Aksil placed his hand on his chest. "This is the thanks I get for helping a sick man get some free food? Accused of being a criminal?"

  "What? No, wait. I didn't mean any offense. I just don't understand why you were checking my pockets."

  "For weapons, of course. We live in dangerous times, my friend. The purge at Royal Oak has shifted the scales of balance. The Brotherhood sees hope and grows restless. The demons that infect our lands are now invading our cities. Faith in humanity and trust among people are dwindling."

  "I'm sorry, I…I didn't…I—" Millan bumbled.

  Aksil guffawed and slapped the table. "Oh my angels, the look on your face. Priceless. Checking pockets for weapons."

  "I don't understand."

  "It's as I feared. You're too innocent and trusting. I'm what you might call a material investigator."

  Millan's eyebrows scrunched together. "A what?"

  "You know, a material investigator? A pocket watch? A repossession specialist?"

  The man was speaking nonsense.

  "I'm an Anoctis thief."

  Millan instinctively covered his pockets. "What?"

  Aksil laughed. "What exactly are you protecting there? Come on, relax. I helped you, didn't I?"

  "So, what does that make you? A thoughtful thief?"

  "More like a thoughtful man who happens to be a professional thief."

  The priest looked around the mostly empty restaurant before lowering his voice. "And you're not afraid other people will find out?"

  "Why are you whispering? I'm a thief. It's no secret. So what?"

  Millan folded his arms. "How are you not in jail?"

  "You really don't know how Anoctis operates, do you? You only go to jail if you get caught. I bet you're from one of those tiny towns."

  "Nesinu, actually."

  Aksil shook his head. "Sorry to hear that. Your folks and grandfather make it out?"

  "Yeah, the whole town escaped except for two people."

  "Anyone you were close with?"

  "No." It was as though a dagger was plunged into his chest. He gave that answer to avoid suspicion, but he felt as if he had betrayed Don Skully.

  "Well, that's good. You must've ended up in Nolka. What brings you back to Light's Haven if you don't have family here anymore?"

  Millan lifted his glass to his lips. "I suppose I'm looking for a fresh start."

  "What did you do in Nesinu?"

  "I worked the stables, like my father. When the evacuation happened, I realized if I didn't make a change soon, I'd be stuck in the stables my whole life, just like him."

  Aksil clicked his tongue. "There's no shame in being a stable hand."

  "I know. I didn't mean it like that. It's just not for me."

  "So, what do you want to do instead?"

  "I was thinking I might try my hand at being a war-mage," said Millan.

  "Summa Arcana?"

  "Sure."

  The thief sipped his water. "I hate to be the bearer of b
ad news, but your empty pockets are going to be a big problem. You need to pay some serious coin to be enrolled as an acolyte. Summa Arcana isn't like Candelux who takes any sap looking to throw some light around. You ever thought of being a priest?"

  "I don't know. It seems like everywhere you look nowadays, there's a priest."

  Aksil quietly stared across the table, and it made Millan uncomfortable. "I suppose you're right. What about Anoctis?"

  "Anoctis?"

  "Sure, I could put in a good word for you."

  "No, thank you. Stealing is wrong. I could never do such terrible things."

  "Such terrible things, huh? Need I remind you you're getting a free lunch?" Aksil seemed more amused than offended. "Besides, you don't have to be a thief. You could be a scout. Pay isn't great, but at least it wouldn't mess with your strict moral code."

  "Maybe."

  Ursula placed their lunches on the table. "Told you I'd be quick. Careful. They're still hot."

  As she left, Millan's stomach grumbled. It smelled delicious, and after losing some of his breakfast, the priest was ready to refill his belly. "So what about you? You been a thief your whole life?"

  "That's what they say. Stole my mother's heart the moment I was born. Too bad she took it back a few years later."

  "How do you mean?"

  "Apparently, she found out some not-so-nice things about my father and used that as an excuse to run off with some baron."

  "That's awful."

  Aksil shrugged. "It wasn't so bad. Sure, there were some tough times, but my father was a thief, and he taught me the basics early on. And since then, I even picked up some tricks of my own."

  Millan stabbed his fork into the pie. The meat filling was steaming as he lifted it to his mouth and blew. "So you work with your father?"

  "I did for a number of years, but we don't exactly see eye to eye anymore. We sort of took different paths in life. With any luck, they're the type that don't cross."

  The food was amazing. Millan was never picky about what he ate, but if he could choose one meal for the rest of his life, this would be it. He shoveled the pie into his mouth and doused the burns with his glass of water. It was a shame the slums were technically off limits for him, but maybe he could come again in disguise. The priest paused when he noticed his new acquaintance had stopped eating.

  "Fangle me," Aksil said under his breath.

  "What's wrong?" Millan glanced over his shoulder as three men approached the table.

  "Nothing. Don't say anything."

  The leader of the three men appeared to be pushing sixty, sporting gray hair with a red streak. "Well, well, well. Aksilacarn. I didn't believe it when they told me you were eating lunch at the Laughing Demon. I said to my men, 'Not a chance. He wouldn't be that stupid.' But here you are."

  The thief pushed back his chair and stepped in front of Millan, blocking his view of the newcomers. "Greggor, what can I say? My parents didn't have much intellect to pass on. How'd you know I was here?"

  "Ursula sent someone."

  "Figures."

  "You got some nerve showing your face in the slums after what you did. You don't think anyone's actually forgiven you around here, do you?"

  "I guess a few years didn't soften any hearts. Besides, I didn't do anything. But you already knew that, right?"

  "Aw, you're breaking my heart, Aksil. None of that matters. The only question now is what do we do with you? I suppose we'll have to tell Horvin."

  "Like you ever gave a demon's ass about that geezer."

  Greggor chuckled. "True. Maybe he doesn't have to know if we can come to some arrangement."

  The thief scoffed. "Look at you. Ever the opportunist. It's funny. I didn't think the Devil's flunkies came out during the daytime."

  "Don't waste your breath on insults. How about you tell me why you're in the slums. Maybe if I like your answer and you promise to never return, I'll let you go."

  Aksilacarn leaned in and whispered into the man's ear. Millan strained to hear what he was saying, but it was useless. He had no idea who these men were or whether he should trust Aksilacarn. The man was a thief after all. However, Millan remained quiet as the conversation continued.

  Greggor's tone sounded interested. "And the prize? Completed?"

  "Let us leave and it's yours," Aksil said. "Your goons can even escort us to the exchange. And I swear I'll never set foot in the slums again."

  "Agreed, but your friend stays."

  "I know we've had our differences, but there's no reason to drag him into this. He has nothing to do with it."

  Greggor poked the thief in the chest. "You dragged him into this when you brought him to the slums."

  "I didn't bring him. I just met him here. He's new in the capital, broke as bums, and seemed like he needed a friend."

  "How unfortunate for him. The only thing worse than being broke is being broke and friends with you."

  "Your wit is as sharp as ever. Just let him go. This is between us."

  Greggor wrapped his arm around Aksil's shoulder. "The problem is I don't trust you. I don't want you running off with my money. So, here's what's going to happen. First, your friend stays with me. He'll probably enjoy my company better anyway. Next, you'll go with my men to the exchange and turn over the prize from this contract you're working. And last, when my men bring me what you've promised, I'll let your friend go."

  The thief pushed his shoulder up and broke free from the old man's grasp. "Fine."

  "Oh, and, Aksil. If you try to give my guys the slip, don't think I won't hunt you down. I'll start with any information your friend has. You know how good I am at getting information, right?"

  "You're a Dardan fool. He doesn't know anything. I told you I just met him."

  "Then I suppose his interrogation wouldn't go so well then, would it?"

  Millan gulped as he figured out what Greggor was implying. He really didn't know anything about Aksilacarn, and now his fate rested in the hands of a complete stranger.

  As Aksil departed with the two men, Greggor sat opposite Millan. "Sorry you had to hear all that nonsense. You're in no danger. That was just business. I'm Greggor."

  The Nesinu priest shook the man's hand. "Millan. Nice to meet you."

  "Millan, you say? Have we met before?"

  "I don't think so. No. So, how long have you known Aksil?"

  "Quite a while, I'd say. I'm his father."

  Chapter 7

  "We stop here for the night," Ojjuk said.

  With Flinch by his side, Erynion pushed past the brush to join the two wolves. "How close are we to Nolka?"

  "Close enough."

  "We're about an hour's walk from the north gate," Eyzora answered. "Plenty of time for your plan tomorrow."

  Ojjuk growled as he wandered into the trees.

  "Where are you going?" Erynion called out, but the black wolf kept walking.

  "Ojjuk will patrol the area to make sure no one comes close to our camp. Would you like a fire?"

  "Sure. Flinch, how about you go gather some wood."

  "You got it, boss." The jester winked at the demon lord before traipsing off on his errand.

  Eyzora sat on her haunches while Erynion found a spot of his own. He couldn't stop thinking about his earlier conversation with Flinch. He wasn't able to shake the sickening feeling of being betrayed by his wife like the jester. It had been three years since he last saw her. Would she still love him? Would she still agree he took the correct course of action?

  "You're worried?" the red wolf asked.

  "What gave it away?"

  "I've seen that look a thousand times. Anything I can help with?"

  "No, I just have a lot on my mind."

  "Speaking of, I know you've been eager to meditate. I can assist you, if you wish."

  Erynion noted the sun's position in the sky. "Not much daylight left. Are you sure it's safe?"

  "I'll keep an eye on the sun, but with the chains on, you won't have anything to worry
about."

  "All right. How does this work? You assisting me?"

  "We get you into your mind and explore around a bit. Because my words go directly into your head, I'll be able to speak with you and guide you through."

  "And you'll be able to know what's happening in my head? Can you read my thoughts?"

  The red wolf panted as if she were laughing. "Don't believe everything Flinch tells you. If you speak aloud in your mind with the intention of communicating with me, your body will speak. It's no different from someone talking in their sleep."

  "Can we look for something in particular? A specific spell?"

  "We can try, but no guarantees. What did you have in mind?"

  Erynion made a fist and envisioned a standard watcher blade in his hand. "I'm told every demon is able to pull a weapon from the Depths. Something unique to them. I'd like to learn what mine is."

  "I understand, but I must strongly advise against it. Your time would be better spent improving your healing or controlling your purge. With Agalia on the loose, perhaps you should discover what skills you possess in mental combat."

  "Mental combat?"

  "Like when she attacked you in your dream. You got lucky. She was careless and distracted. Her hubris turned you from a boy into your demon form. I guarantee she won't make that mistake again if she gets inside your mind."

  "Like I would let her come close to me, let alone stick her tail in my neck."

  "Even so, these are skills you need to uncover, so keep them in mind as we explore your memories, but don't focus on them too hard."

  "Right. Focus, but don't force it. Clear my mind, but have a goal."

  "Exactly. Do you know how to begin?"

  The demon lord nodded and closed his eye. He breathed in deeply through his nostrils and allowed the air to slide out between his lips. Bits of sunlight seeped through his eyelids while a breeze whistled past his ears. "Nothing's happening."

  "You've meditated before, right?" the red wolf asked.

  "Yes, but it doesn't feel the same. My goal before was so clear. Figure out my identity. But now, I don't feel the same level of focus."

  "There's nothing to worry about. I will help you into your mind. Just breathe and listen."