Drake considered his lack of ways to defend himself. “So you have all this magic in your world, but few magic weapons. Why is that?”
Zuri shrugged. “My supposition would be that those with rarities would hesitate to create weapons that could be wielded by just anyone, lord.”
Because those weapons could then be used against them by people jealous of their rarities. That, sadly, made perfect sense. “But magic weapons do exist. Cresh had one.”
“Blood Woe. I was disappointed to hear it was lost. It was a magnificent weapon.”
Zuri obviously didn’t intend to needle him about that, but it still galled him that he’d let the Proudglade knights run off with that axe. If only he’d been able to send Sachi to steal it back... but, on balance, his missing battle maid had to come first. Blood Woe was probably a nice axe, but ensuring the safety of his manor and all its people took priority.
“So to be clear, there are no other magic weapons anywhere in Gloomwood Manor.”
“I’m afraid not, lord. At least none of which I am aware, and I keep an extensive list of all items with magical properties in your possession.”
When she said “in his possession” she must mean as Lord Gloomwood, because he certainly didn’t have any magical items in his hoodie pockets. Not even healing gloves.
“I’d like a list of those items, Zuri.”
“Of course, lord. I will have it delivered to your room.”
“But it sounds like I can’t learn new magic, and there’s no magical weapons in this manor I can use to defend myself. So if I can’t figure out what my rarity is, I’m fucked.”
“Don’t you worry about that, lord!” Emily said confidently. “If anyone tries to kill you, me and Chopper will kill ’em right back!”
That wasn’t exactly comforting. “There has to be something I can use to defend myself. I assume you do have an armory of normal weapons? Do you keep an inventory of those?”
“Goktul, our master-of-arms, keeps an extensive armory for our zarovian soldiers. I leave our mundane weapon inventory to him because it tends to change so frequently.”
“Do we have crossbows?”
“I have never seen a zarovian carrying one, lord, but that does not mean they aren’t somewhere in the armory. Goktul could certainly answer your question.”
So his next step after this would be the armory. That seemed fair. Drake wanted to get a look at the armory and wherever the zarovians stayed anyway.
He hadn’t seen any of the armored lizardman tromping freely around the manor—only the two standing guard by the main doors—so they likely had a place they all hung out. Like a soldier’s barracks. He didn’t know how they’d even sit in chairs with their big tails.
He was on the verge of having Emily show him to the armory when he remembered one last question he’d almost forgotten. “There’s one more thing, Zuri. The roster you gave me to look over last night was incomplete.”
“I don’t believe so, lord.” Zuri’s pleasant tone chilled noticeably.
“Then why doesn’t it list Samuel?”
Emily gasped from the other side of the room. “Oh, I miss him.”
Zuri once more smoothed down her dress. “I see your confusion now, lord. My apologies. I misunderstood your request.”
“Or I just wasn’t clear about it.” He raised a hand to stop her from more unnecessary apologetic bowing. “You updated the roster that recently? Lydia told me Lord Dickcheese took Samuel to the ritual room four days ago.”
“Five. Yes. And when he did not return, I updated the roster accordingly.”
That was cold, but understandable. “Do we have another list of people who worked here who’ve died?” He didn’t know what benefit it would be, exactly, but at least he would see more examples of rarities.
His twenty-five zarovians and Sachi, his feral, did not have listed rarities. As such, he’d seen fifty rarities in the roster last night, almost all useless in battle save for the ones possessed by his battle maids. That suggested rarities generally weren’t useful for combat, but it could also be a sampling bias. None of his other people were warriors.
Also, Gloomwood Manor had almost lost Nicole last night and could still lose Valentia, at which point Zuri would wipe them from the roster. How many other battle maids had fallen defending the Lord of Gloomwood over the years? What rarities had they possessed?
“Of course, lord,” Zuri said primly. “As I mentioned yesterday, I keep several tomes documenting all who have served in Gloomwood Manor going back long before my predecessor. Unfortunately, records beyond one hundred years back were lost in a fire.”
Drake took one more look around a room filled with loose scrolls, haphazardly piled books, and candles that represented open flames. “Let’s sure hope that doesn’t happen again.”
“Would you like to see that tome, lord?”
“I would. Would you mind dropping it by my room? I’ll read it tonight.”
“Oh, I can deliver it to your room, lord.” Her smile grew sultry. “I can even review it with you there, if you wish. I’m certain I can help you find everything you’re looking for.”
Drake had no doubt now. This woman was absolutely trying to seduce him, despite the fact that she was twice his age and also his blood thrall. That simply was not going to happen.
“Just drop the book outside the door, Zuri. Thank you.”
She fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Of course, lord.”
Again he made to leave and again, he remembered a question. “Oh, while I’m here. What was Samuel’s rarity?”
“Physical regeneration, lord.”
Emily gasped. “I didn’t know that!”
Drake froze in midstep, took a beat, then turned back to face Zuri. “By that, you mean when wounded, he could heal himself? Without Raylan’s rarity or Emily’s magic gloves?”
Zuri nodded sagely. “His rarity was quite powerful, even if it was reactive. It was such a tragedy to lose him.”
Drake remembered how gross the corpse in the torture room had looked. Covered in bloodied and damaged organs, hanging skin, and all sorts of goop that was supposed to be inside a body and not out. Samuel’s rarity had been regeneration.
If he’d displeased Dickcheese, and Dickcheese was Dickcheese, would the man really have let a servant who could physically regenerate off so easily? Would he have allowed a man he could endlessly torture to just... die?
“Emily.” She blinked in surprise when he stared at her, which suggested he’d just stared rather intensely. “You need to take me to the ritual room right now.”
“This way, lord!” She took off without a question or a backward glance.
“What is it, lord?” Zuri called after him.
“Just something I have to check! And drop that tome off, please!”
Emily hurried through the manor at a pace that matched her rush through the woods. Drake had to push himself to keep up with her. Still, he didn’t complain. If he was right about this, he might finally have a way to learn more about Dickcheese’s plans and powers.
Because if what he speculated was true, his dead butler could tell him all about it.
Emily halted just before a single wooden door he recognized all too well. Yesterday, he’d been down in that room, strapped to a table, as Lord Dickcheese had tried to force him to carve a pattern in Westin. Dickcheese’s dead body was still down there.
As was a corpse that might be a bit less dead than it had been yesterday.
Drake tried the room and found it locked. “Oh, c’mon!”
Emily fumbled through the pockets in her maid apron and produced a ring with a few dangly objects. “I have the key right here, lord. May I?”
“You may. Open it.”
She got the key on the first try, turned it, and smoothly stepped aside. When Drake pushed the doors open, he gagged and stumbled at the stench. The smell of dead Dickcheese was rancid, and it had been building up in here for almost a day. No help for it.
The room was as he and Westin had left it. The ritual circle in the corner was gone, which suggested Drake wouldn’t have to worry about anyone else attempting to summon a demon that could destroy the world. He didn’t need any more evidence of that.
The horizontal ritual table and standing X restraint were where they had been last night, manacles open. Dickcheese and his bloody robes lay right where he’d fallen after Drake stabbed the shit out of him. At least that confirmed the man remained dead.
The gross skeleton remained in the corner. It still showed plenty of bones, but did it have slightly more flesh now? Drake couldn’t tell from way up here. He’d need to get closer.
He’d recovered from the smell enough to descend the first step when he realized he was unusually alone. He glanced back toward the open door. “You coming?”
“I’m not allowed to enter the ritual room, lord!”
He coughed as another wave of Dickcheese wafted by. He wiped his nose, blinking back tears. “You’re no longer compelled to do anything, and I’m saying it’s okay! So get in here!”
“All... all right!” She sounded so timid.
As Drake waited impatiently, Emily practically tiptoed into the room. He’d never seen her look this frightened. She wasn’t physically trembling, but her hands were clenched and her lips were pressed tight. Was it the corpses? But she killed people!
As he turned back toward her in concern, she recoiled. That worried him.
She visibly hunkered down and spoke quietly. “How have I displeased you, lord?”
Only then, as he remembered Lydia telling him the only reason any servant entered this room was to be tortured and murdered, did he realize what Emily must be thinking right now. He’d forgotten in his excitement about Samuel.
He’d expected the fact that she was free to ease her worries, but she’d been held captive by a blood pact for years. He should have considered she might still have traumas to unpack. The fact that she seemed so cheerful made that easy to forget.
“Emily, remember. You’re no longer compelled to do anything. I’d never hurt you, but I couldn’t even if I was an asshole. No one can make you hurt anyone or make anyone hurt you ever again. That’s why you agreed to that decree last night.”
Her wide-eyed stare changed incrementally as his words registered. “But... then why—”
“I need your rarity. I need your ability to see souls.”
Emily almost immediately perked right up. “Oh! Well…of course, lord.”
She now looked so relieved, and before that, she had looked so terrified. Her time living under Lord Dickcheese had obviously affected her more deeply than she let on. Was her endlessly upbeat cheeriness a coping mechanism of some sort?
He wouldn’t try to diagnose her. He wasn’t a psychologist. He was just glad, now more than ever, that no one would ever be able to force Emily to do anything again.
“Just follow me down to the floor here and tell me if you see any souls about. Okay?”
“That’s a strange request, lord.” Even so, Emily looked to be recovering her normally burdensome cheer. “But I am happy to help!”
He walked down the stairs as the stench continued to come in waves. The sound of slippers on wood told him Emily followed. When he reached the ground floor, he looked back at her. “Do you see any souls down here?”
“Not a one, lord.” She was giving him an odd look. “Who did you expect?”
His hopes dashed, Drake sighed and looked at the skeleton in the corner once more. At the least, he would need to get someone to give Samuel a proper burial. He hadn’t known the man, but he hadn’t deserved all this. He made himself approach the body.
And noticed something. Samuel had eye jelly now, just a little. Yesterday, he would swear those eye sockets had been empty. It was the first horrific detail he’d noticed.
He snapped his fingers and beckoned. “Come look at this!”
Emily approached. “Is that Samuel? Poor man.”
“I need you to look closely at this body. Real close. Do you see any trace of a soul in there? Any at all?”
“I don’t think so, lord, but I will check!”
Emily’s shoulder brushed his as she walked by, and then she jammed her face so close to the corpse’s vacant, fleshy skull that she could probably have licked it. This woman knew no fear when it came to accomplishing her goals.
There, Emily gasped. “Lord!”
“Yes?” C’mon, old man, don’t be dead.
“There is a glow! So faint I can barely make it out, but it is there!” She spun about and beamed at him. “Samuel’s soul is still here with us!”
Drake grinned in triumph. “Go round up two zarovians, Raylan, and Lydia, and bring them all here as soon as you can. We’re going to resuscitate my butler.” As Emily sprinted off to obey his orders, he shouted after her. “Oh, and bring me a sheet!”
Drake glanced at the dead monk moldering in the corner and grinned vengefully. Finally, you old fart, I’m going to learn just why you abducted me.
Drake considered his lack of ways to defend himself. “So you have all this magic in your world, but few magic weapons. Why is that?”
Zuri shrugged. “My supposition would be that those with rarities would hesitate to create weapons that could be wielded by just anyone, lord.”
Because those weapons could then be used against them by people jealous of their rarities. That, sadly, made perfect sense. “But magic weapons do exist. Cresh had one.”
“Blood Woe. I was disappointed to hear it was lost. It was a magnificent weapon.”
Zuri obviously didn’t intend to needle him about that, but it still galled him that he’d let the Proudglade knights run off with that axe. If only he’d been able to send Sachi to steal it back... but, on balance, his missing battle maid had to come first. Blood Woe was probably a nice axe, but ensuring the safety of his manor and all its people took priority.
“So to be clear, there are no other magic weapons anywhere in Gloomwood Manor.”
“I’m afraid not, lord. At least none of which I am aware, and I keep an extensive list of all items with magical properties in your possession.”
When she said “in his possession” she must mean as Lord Gloomwood, because he certainly didn’t have any magical items in his hoodie pockets. Not even healing gloves.
“I’d like a list of those items, Zuri.”
“Of course, lord. I will have it delivered to your room.”
“But it sounds like I can’t learn new magic, and there’s no magical weapons in this manor I can use to defend myself. So if I can’t figure out what my rarity is, I’m fucked.”
“Don’t you worry about that, lord!” Emily said confidently. “If anyone tries to kill you, me and Chopper will kill ’em right back!”
That wasn’t exactly comforting. “There has to be something I can use to defend myself. I assume you do have an armory of normal weapons? Do you keep an inventory of those?”
“Goktul, our master-of-arms, keeps an extensive armory for our zarovian soldiers. I leave our mundane weapon inventory to him because it tends to change so frequently.”
“Do we have crossbows?”
“I have never seen a zarovian carrying one, lord, but that does not mean they aren’t somewhere in the armory. Goktul could certainly answer your question.”
So his next step after this would be the armory. That seemed fair. Drake wanted to get a look at the armory and wherever the zarovians stayed anyway.
He hadn’t seen any of the armored lizardman tromping freely around the manor—only the two standing guard by the main doors—so they likely had a place they all hung out. Like a soldier’s barracks. He didn’t know how they’d even sit in chairs with their big tails.
He was on the verge of having Emily show him to the armory when he remembered one last question he’d almost forgotten. “There’s one more thing, Zuri. The roster you gave me to look over last night was incomplete.”
“I don’t believe so, lord.” Zuri’s pleasant tone chilled noticeably.
“Then why doesn’t it list Samuel?”
Emily gasped from the other side of the room. “Oh, I miss him.”
Zuri once more smoothed down her dress. “I see your confusion now, lord. My apologies. I misunderstood your request.”
“Or I just wasn’t clear about it.” He raised a hand to stop her from more unnecessary apologetic bowing. “You updated the roster that recently? Lydia told me Lord Dickcheese took Samuel to the ritual room four days ago.”
“Five. Yes. And when he did not return, I updated the roster accordingly.”
That was cold, but understandable. “Do we have another list of people who worked here who’ve died?” He didn’t know what benefit it would be, exactly, but at least he would see more examples of rarities.
His twenty-five zarovians and Sachi, his feral, did not have listed rarities. As such, he’d seen fifty rarities in the roster last night, almost all useless in battle save for the ones possessed by his battle maids. That suggested rarities generally weren’t useful for combat, but it could also be a sampling bias. None of his other people were warriors.
Also, Gloomwood Manor had almost lost Nicole last night and could still lose Valentia, at which point Zuri would wipe them from the roster. How many other battle maids had fallen defending the Lord of Gloomwood over the years? What rarities had they possessed?
“Of course, lord,” Zuri said primly. “As I mentioned yesterday, I keep several tomes documenting all who have served in Gloomwood Manor going back long before my predecessor. Unfortunately, records beyond one hundred years back were lost in a fire.”
Drake took one more look around a room filled with loose scrolls, haphazardly piled books, and candles that represented open flames. “Let’s sure hope that doesn’t happen again.”
“Would you like to see that tome, lord?”
“I would. Would you mind dropping it by my room? I’ll read it tonight.”
“Oh, I can deliver it to your room, lord.” Her smile grew sultry. “I can even review it with you there, if you wish. I’m certain I can help you find everything you’re looking for.”
Drake had no doubt now. This woman was absolutely trying to seduce him, despite the fact that she was twice his age and also his blood thrall. That simply was not going to happen.
“Just drop the book outside the door, Zuri. Thank you.”
She fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Of course, lord.”
Again he made to leave and again, he remembered a question. “Oh, while I’m here. What was Samuel’s rarity?”
“Physical regeneration, lord.”
Emily gasped. “I didn’t know that!”
Drake froze in midstep, took a beat, then turned back to face Zuri. “By that, you mean when wounded, he could heal himself? Without Raylan’s rarity or Emily’s magic gloves?”
Zuri nodded sagely. “His rarity was quite powerful, even if it was reactive. It was such a tragedy to lose him.”
Drake remembered how gross the corpse in the torture room had looked. Covered in bloodied and damaged organs, hanging skin, and all sorts of goop that was supposed to be inside a body and not out. Samuel’s rarity had been regeneration.
If he’d displeased Dickcheese, and Dickcheese was Dickcheese, would the man really have let a servant who could physically regenerate off so easily? Would he have allowed a man he could endlessly torture to just... die?
“Emily.” She blinked in surprise when he stared at her, which suggested he’d just stared rather intensely. “You need to take me to the ritual room right now.”
“This way, lord!” She took off without a question or a backward glance.
“What is it, lord?” Zuri called after him.
“Just something I have to check! And drop that tome off, please!”
Emily hurried through the manor at a pace that matched her rush through the woods. Drake had to push himself to keep up with her. Still, he didn’t complain. If he was right about this, he might finally have a way to learn more about Dickcheese’s plans and powers.
Because if what he speculated was true, his dead butler could tell him all about it.
Emily halted just before a single wooden door he recognized all too well. Yesterday, he’d been down in that room, strapped to a table, as Lord Dickcheese had tried to force him to carve a pattern in Westin. Dickcheese’s dead body was still down there.
As was a corpse that might be a bit less dead than it had been yesterday.
Drake tried the room and found it locked. “Oh, c’mon!”
Emily fumbled through the pockets in her maid apron and produced a ring with a few dangly objects. “I have the key right here, lord. May I?”
“You may. Open it.”
She got the key on the first try, turned it, and smoothly stepped aside. When Drake pushed the doors open, he gagged and stumbled at the stench. The smell of dead Dickcheese was rancid, and it had been building up in here for almost a day. No help for it.
The room was as he and Westin had left it. The ritual circle in the corner was gone, which suggested Drake wouldn’t have to worry about anyone else attempting to summon a demon that could destroy the world. He didn’t need any more evidence of that.
The horizontal ritual table and standing X restraint were where they had been last night, manacles open. Dickcheese and his bloody robes lay right where he’d fallen after Drake stabbed the shit out of him. At least that confirmed the man remained dead.
The gross skeleton remained in the corner. It still showed plenty of bones, but did it have slightly more flesh now? Drake couldn’t tell from way up here. He’d need to get closer.
He’d recovered from the smell enough to descend the first step when he realized he was unusually alone. He glanced back toward the open door. “You coming?”
“I’m not allowed to enter the ritual room, lord!”
He coughed as another wave of Dickcheese wafted by. He wiped his nose, blinking back tears. “You’re no longer compelled to do anything, and I’m saying it’s okay! So get in here!”
“All... all right!” She sounded so timid.
As Drake waited impatiently, Emily practically tiptoed into the room. He’d never seen her look this frightened. She wasn’t physically trembling, but her hands were clenched and her lips were pressed tight. Was it the corpses? But she killed people!
As he turned back toward her in concern, she recoiled. That worried him.
She visibly hunkered down and spoke quietly. “How have I displeased you, lord?”
Only then, as he remembered Lydia telling him the only reason any servant entered this room was to be tortured and murdered, did he realize what Emily must be thinking right now. He’d forgotten in his excitement about Samuel.
He’d expected the fact that she was free to ease her worries, but she’d been held captive by a blood pact for years. He should have considered she might still have traumas to unpack. The fact that she seemed so cheerful made that easy to forget.
“Emily, remember. You’re no longer compelled to do anything. I’d never hurt you, but I couldn’t even if I was an asshole. No one can make you hurt anyone or make anyone hurt you ever again. That’s why you agreed to that decree last night.”
Her wide-eyed stare changed incrementally as his words registered. “But... then why—”
“I need your rarity. I need your ability to see souls.”
Emily almost immediately perked right up. “Oh! Well…of course, lord.”
She now looked so relieved, and before that, she had looked so terrified. Her time living under Lord Dickcheese had obviously affected her more deeply than she let on. Was her endlessly upbeat cheeriness a coping mechanism of some sort?
He wouldn’t try to diagnose her. He wasn’t a psychologist. He was just glad, now more than ever, that no one would ever be able to force Emily to do anything again.
“Just follow me down to the floor here and tell me if you see any souls about. Okay?”
“That’s a strange request, lord.” Even so, Emily looked to be recovering her normally burdensome cheer. “But I am happy to help!”
He walked down the stairs as the stench continued to come in waves. The sound of slippers on wood told him Emily followed. When he reached the ground floor, he looked back at her. “Do you see any souls down here?”
“Not a one, lord.” She was giving him an odd look. “Who did you expect?”
His hopes dashed, Drake sighed and looked at the skeleton in the corner once more. At the least, he would need to get someone to give Samuel a proper burial. He hadn’t known the man, but he hadn’t deserved all this. He made himself approach the body.
And noticed something. Samuel had eye jelly now, just a little. Yesterday, he would swear those eye sockets had been empty. It was the first horrific detail he’d noticed.
He snapped his fingers and beckoned. “Come look at this!”
Emily approached. “Is that Samuel? Poor man.”
“I need you to look closely at this body. Real close. Do you see any trace of a soul in there? Any at all?”
“I don’t think so, lord, but I will check!”
Emily’s shoulder brushed his as she walked by, and then she jammed her face so close to the corpse’s vacant, fleshy skull that she could probably have licked it. This woman knew no fear when it came to accomplishing her goals.
There, Emily gasped. “Lord!”
“Yes?” C’mon, old man, don’t be dead.
“There is a glow! So faint I can barely make it out, but it is there!” She spun about and beamed at him. “Samuel’s soul is still here with us!”
Drake grinned in triumph. “Go round up two zarovians, Raylan, and Lydia, and bring them all here as soon as you can. We’re going to resuscitate my butler.” As Emily sprinted off to obey his orders, he shouted after her. “Oh, and bring me a sheet!”
Drake glanced at the dead monk moldering in the corner and grinned vengefully. Finally, you old fart, I’m going to learn just why you abducted me.
