I go to the library. Orin is sweeping the floor there as always.
"Hello, Orin," I say. My voice is condescending, precisely dosed to remind him of his place.
The old man flinches. "Ohh... Young Master Kael! Haven't seen you in a long time. "He bows deeply, a hint of fear in his posture. "What are you doing here?" he asks cautiously.
"How long have you lived in Morhenhall?"
"An eternity. I was born here."
"That is good," I say and step closer. "I want you to show me around the city. Until now, I have only ever been in the castle or the courtyard. I wasn't allowed out."
Orin's eyes widen in panic. "My Lord! That… that is impossible. Of course, six-year-old little lords cannot go into the city yet! It is dangerous! If I were caught… I would be beheaded!"
"You know, Orin, I haven't just watched you sweep. I saw what you do with the leftovers. With the half-full vials from the healer's cabinet that were supposed to be discarded."
Orin freezes. The color drains completely from his face. "My Lord, I… I don't know—"
"Don't lie," I interrupt him sharply. "You smuggle them out. Every third day. For your granddaughter in the Undercity, right? The one coughing up blood?"
Orin's eyes widen in pure horror. He begins to tremble. That a six-year-old child knows his secret—a theft that could cost him his head—breaks him instantly.
"How…" he whispers.
"I see everything, Orin. I may be a child, but I am not blind." I pull the gold coin out again and hold it up. It sparkles in the candlelight.
"Here is the deal." I raise a finger. "Scenario A: You refuse. I go to Father. I tell him about the stolen medication. You will be hanged for theft of the Lord's property. Your granddaughter gets no more medicine and dies painfully alone."
Orin gasps; tears well up in his eyes.
I raise a second finger. "Scenario B: You take me into the city. We return before dinner. No one learns anything. And this gold coin here…" I flick it in his direction. He catches it reflexively. "…is enough to buy your granddaughter real medicine from a proper healer. No more leftovers."
"You save her. Or you kill her. Decide." But decide now."
Orin stares at the coin in his hand, then into my green, merciless eyes. He has no choice.
He swallows hard, wipes away a tear, and lowers his head. "How… how am I supposed to get you out?" he asks, his voice broken. "There are guards everywhere outside…"
"Oh, Orin," I sigh. "Don't play dumber than you are. Do you remember the book you showed me back then? The book about the layout of Morhenhall?"
Orin swallows. "The… the book by my great-grandfather."
"Exactly. You were so proud of it. You said it contained plans that no one else knows. Secret passages."
Orin stares at me. "You… You read it?"
"Of course not, knowing the layout of the castle serves me no purpose. But you surely read it; your ancestor wrote it, after all. In his own words. Didn't he?"
"Ah… yes, that book," Orin stammers. "Yes, I read it."
"There is surely a secret exit, isn't there?"
Silence.
Then Orin nods. Defeated.
"Good," I say. "We meet in half an hour at the dusty side entrance in the cellar. Dress a bit more inconspicuously. I will take care of my own disguise."
"As… as you wish," Orin says desperately.
Half an hour later, we meet at the rendezvous point. I have hidden my white hair under a dirty wool cap. My clothes are old and gray—stolen from the laundry.
"Let's go," I say. "We have to hurry. If I'm not back by dinner, we could be exposed."
"Yes, My Lord," Orin says. He sounds as if he is about to be sick.
We climb into the tunnel. It smells of mold and earth. When we finally step out into the daylight, we find ourselves in a narrow alley on the outskirts. The city spreads out before me. I look around. Disappointment sets in. Wooden shacks. Muddy streets. Humans selling goods.
"I expected elves. Or demons." "But there are only humans here."
"This is human territory, My Lord," Orin explains. "One only sees other races here in rare cases, when they are traveling."
"I know that, Orin." I walk on. "It is because the Lord here is a human. Only a human. And therefore, there is no equality. I just thought this might be an exception, since Morhenhall is right next to Aeloria. And only different races live there. I thought they might pass through here sometimes. But I suppose I was wrong."
Suddenly, I stop. Three figures are coming down the main street. They are tall. Much taller than the humans around them. Their skin has a slight grey cast. Their teeth are pointed, and small, curved horns protrude from their foreheads. Their eyes glow red and violet.
Demons.
They walk past me, ignoring the rabble, but their gazes are watchful. Malicious.
"What are demons doing here?" Orin asks fearfully. "Probably travelers…"
"No," I say. I analyze their gear. "They have too little luggage. With their build, they could carry double that. They are packed light. Fast."
"Maybe they are coming from Aeloria to visit Morhenhall?" Orin suggests.
"Unlikely," I contradict sharply. "As I said, this is human territory. Other races only come here if they absolutely have to—for supplies or a place to sleep."
I shake my head and point vaguely toward the east.
"But think about it, Orin. Look at them. They have barely any luggage. That means they are traveling fast. If they were truly just exhausted or hungry, they would simply continue to Aeloria. It lies right next door. There, they would be welcome. There, they could sleep without being spat upon."
I narrow my eyes, my gaze fixed on the demons' backs.
"That they are stopping here regardless—in enemy territory, instead of traveling the few miles further to safe Aeloria—means only one thing: They are looking for something specific here. They are likely scouts."
"Scouts?" Orin turns pale. "Scouting what?"
"How should I know? But I don't believe in good intentions. We follow them."
"What?!" Orin almost grabs my arm, but then pulls back fearfully. "My Lord, we haven't even seen the marketplace yet! Over there, there are—"
"Come," I command and start walking.
We follow the demons. Keeping our distance. Using the crowds as cover.
Their eyes never stop moving—streets, rooftops, patrol routes.
Just as I thought. But what kind of information are they looking for here?
We continue. Deeper into the city. Until we reach the square in front of the castle.
The three demons stop at the entrance.
"Wait, young master!" Orin hisses in panic. "What if the guards notice you?!"
But I walk on. Closer. I need to hear what they are saying.
At the gate, two guards block the way. "Halt!" one calls out. "Not another step." He stares at the demons hostilely.
The demons stop. The leader, a giant with violet eyes, bows slightly. Exaggeratedly polite. "We request entry. We must speak with the Lord regarding important matters. We are emissaries of Queen Draelyss."
The guards laugh. It is an ugly, mocking laugh. "Emissaries? You look like stray mutts that got lost." It is an open insult.
The demons' eyes narrow. "Do you have anything to identify yourselves?" the guard asks mockingly.
The leader slowly pulls out a letter. The seal looks genuine, but the paper is crumpled. "Here."
The guard casts only a brief glance at it. "We're supposed to buy this from you? A child drew this. Piss off!"
I notice that more and more people are stopping. They look at the demons angrily. Whispering. Spitting on the ground.
The demon leader takes a step closer. He whispers something to the guard. I cannot understand it, but I see the reaction. The guard freezes. His face goes pale. "How do you know—"
"May we enter now?" the demon asks loudly and smoothly.
I frown. What did he say? Blackmail? A code word?
Suddenly, something flies through the air. Splat. An overripe tomato hits one of the demons on the head. Red mush runs down his grey skin.
He turns around slowly. His face twists into pure rage.
"Who was that?!"
The humans scream. "Get out of here! This is human territory! We aren't in Aeloria!"
The struck demon walks toward them. Slowly. Dangerously.
He grabs the man who threw it by the throat. Lifts him up with one hand.
"Not so strong now, are you?" he snarls.
"Let him go immediately!" the guards shout, drawing their swords. "Or we attack!"
The other two demons step forward. "Damn it, Kai! Let him go! He's had enough."
I watch the scene closely. The tension is palpable. One spark, and a bloodbath will erupt here.