Corporal Shiner shoved the last bite of one of Madge’s scones into his waiting mouth as he crossed the evening-lit Back City square. Yet another reason to hate the night shift. The scones were stale.

  “Shiner!”

  Shiner looked around looking for the source of the voice, but did not slow his pace. Since the main gate’s emergency security checks began the day before, the Back City had been packed, even at night.

  “Shiner, stop walking!”

  “Sammy?” Shiner called out through a full mouth, suddenly recognizing the voice.

  “Right here,” Sam said breathlessly as he pressed through frustrated pedestrians. “Shiner, what is happening? There’s a line to get into the city.”

  “Security checks,” Shiner said with a shrug. “Order came down from the council, I hear. But we’re off the hook back here. Business as usual!”

  Sam snorted. “Yeah, I’m sure. Is the tunnel still open?”

  “Not unless it’s an emergency.”

  Sam looked back to Kaitlyn behind him. “Are you good to walk through a tunnel?”

  “Please, Corporal,” she scoffed. “Can we just hurry? He’s probably here somewhere already.”

  “Who’s the girl, Sammy?” Shiner asked with a playful smirk. “A little old for you, don’t you think?”

  “Who’s the ass?” Kaitlyn retorted. “I don’t have time for games, Paladin.”

  “Kaitlyn, please. He can help,” Sam urged. He turned back to Shiner. “Are you going on watch? We could use an extra hand.”

  “In a few hours,” Shiner said, turning his head up in thought. “But I’m relieving Grim and he started calling me ‘Shit Shiner’ so he can squirm.”

  “This is more important,” Kaitlyn urged.

  “We’ll fill you in as we move.” Sam explained. He looked over to where the tunnel into the throne began. A steady stream of people were gathering at the mouth. One of the paladins from the Back City Mission was not allowing anyone through.

  “I do not think we will pass the security checks,” Benji said, craning his neck to look ahead. They were in the midst of a frustrated crowd made up of commuters, merchants, and tourists as they tried to shuffle into The Throne.

  The gates had been modified for the security situation. Scaffolding, wooden slats, and metal plates had transformed the massive entryway into a series of fifteen low doorways set in even intervals in the center of the mountain's base. As the crowd approached, it filed into one of the fifteen doorways. Zarraz, Benji, and Matthew were all set to enter the last of the fifteen. The one that put them up against the main hall’s eastern wall once inside.

  “We do not need to,” Matthew muttered. “As soon as they pull the tarp off of that bull in the wagon, it will be game-on.”

  “What makes you so sure? What if they just slay the creature right then?”

  “That’s what the cultists will be for.”

  “And if they fail, Matthew?”

  “Then we walk in, Benji. Shut up now.”

  “Where is the crypt entrance?”

  “Benji. Enough.”

  Sam and Shiner were leading Kaitlyn through the tunnel, holding their shields ahead. The shields were giving off brilliant golden light that illuminated the way ahead.

  “Are there more guards in the merchant hall?” Sam asked.

  “No, actually. Fewer. They’ve split the entire force between out front of the gates and up in the residential areas. Once you get in, it's an honor system.”

  “That is profoundly stupid,” Sam muttered.

  “What are we expecting?”

  “Someone’s stolen the Halcyon Band, Shiner. He’s trying to get the rest of the armor.”

  “Maybe,” Kaitlyn corrected. “He may just use the band to cause chaos.”

  Sam grunted. “At the very least, a relic’s been stolen by a dangerous man.”

  “What’s your relation, miss?”

  “I helped him steal it,” Kaitlyn said matter-of-factly.

  Shiner paused, waiting for more of an explanation. When one never came he just said “oh.”

  “Once you spot him, Kaitlyn, point him out and look for cover. Shiner and I will handle the rest.”

  “No, Corporal. He is my responsibility.”

  “You keep saying that, but you also defend him. Make excuses,” Sam grumbled.

  “I’m dealing with a lot.”

  Sam suddenly stopped, irritated by Kaitlyn’s constant prodding and the several sleepless nights. “You know, it doesn’t seem like it. It seems like you are just letting us handle it while you get a front row seat. I wanted you to stay behind and recover from all of this. Instead you spent three days not talking to me unless you wanted to confirm that your husband would not be hurt by a paladin.”

  “If Matthew pulls something here, then it is at least partially my fault,” Kaitlyn said. “If he does not get the chance, then I can forgive myself.”

  “And him as well, I guess?” Sam asked.

  Kaitlyn was silent.

  “Sorry to interrupt, but if there is a man with a stolen relic trying to get into the city, I guarantee the security check will want to know about it,” Shiner chimed. “So we should probably pick up our pace?”

  Zarraz turned around in the wagon’s driver seat to see the trembling, blanket-covered heap.

  “Settle down, friends. We’re almost there! And then you can show me what you are made of.”

  “Hey! Wagon guy! The line’s moving!” another person awaiting permission to enter The Throne shouted from behind. Zarraz turned quickly to see an armored paladin waving him up to the city gates.

  “Hello sir, what’s in the wagon?”

  “Hides. Taking them to market,” Zarraz replied.

  “Ah, well if you are looking to sell here then you will need to go to the cargo inspection lane,” the paladin instructed, gesturing through the gates and off to the side where Zarraz could just make out a line of wagons stopped side by side.

  “Oh,” Zarraz said, sounding more disappointed than he should have. He looked over his shoulder, searching for Matt and Benji.

  “Move along please, sir. Follow her.” The paladin pointed to another guard that was waving him through the gate while simultaneously pointing to an empty inspection station.

  “Uh, okay.” Zarraz shrunk in the wagon as he urged the horse toward the stall. The female paladin was small, and mostly smile. Her chestplate and grieves rest in a small wooden chair at the back of her stall, allowing her to enjoy the ease of motion in just an undershirt.

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  “Good afternoon sir,” she said grinning, taking part of the reins in hand to help lead the horse and wagon. “I hope I can be the first to welcome you into The Throne! Let me give you your rights as an inspectee, mister…”

  “Zarraz is my name,” he responded, smiling back. Looking back again to the gate.

  “Mister Zarraz,” she said with a nod. “I am Private Flowers. Let me begin by explaining that under Talnorel’s Alliance, The Throne was deemed a free travel city, however, the Church of the Will maintains that in event of a security concern, strict controls regarding city entry can be invoked. And as I’m sure you have seen, it has been today.

  “By entering the city, you are complying with an inspection of your property for any dangerous or illegal goods. If you refuse the inspection, then we reserve the right to refuse you entry to the city. If you do comply, you will be granted as much autonomy and dignity as possible during the procedure to ensure that the inspector and city remain safe and your privacy is respected.

  “Does that all sound okay to you?”

  “I suppose I don’t have much of a choice but to agree,” Zarraz laughed, half-joking. “Let us just get this over with!”

  “Yes, sir! Please start by opening the driver’s bins there.”

  Zarraz followed the paladin’s instructions, peeking inside the wagon for the first time himself. He wished he had known there was a tin of crackers in the bin. And that coat. It had been quite chilly in the morning.

  “Pull the coat aside, would you?” Private Flowers asked. Zarraz did as she had requested to show there was nothing more in the bin.

  “Alrighty, now let us check the stuff in the back.”

  Zarraz began to climb from the wagon and the paladin started to make small talk.

  “Zarraz, is that a Gavundari name?”

  “It is. I’m from the Capital.”

  “Wow! Long way from home, huh?”

  “Very,” Zarraz said, swallowing the tingle of homesickness he was not expecting.

  “What brings a hide salesman from Gavundar to The Throne?”

  “Winters are colder here,” Zarraz joked. He preempted the paladin’s request and peeled back the corner of the tarp, showing the catoblepas’s shank. His stomach turned when he saw the paladin frown.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but this catoblepas has not been skinned or cleaned?”

  “I’m an artisan,” Zarraz urged, his hands starting to sweat. He looked back toward the gate, searching for Benji’s head above the crowd. “I work on-site.”

  “Sir, due to hygiene concerns, I can not permit this cargo entry to The Throne. If you want to enter you will have to part with it and it will be disposed of.”

  Zarraz continued watching the throngs shuffling through the gate. “Uh, that’s tricky, Flowers. It has a way of following me.”

  “Sir, please, look at me.”

  Finally, Zarraz saw Benji, who was likewise searching the inspection area for Zarraz. Their eyes met for an instant, and Zarraz decided to charge.

  “If you must confiscate my things, go right ahead,” Zarraz muttered, turning back to her. He pulled the tarp further up. The beast shuddered as it became exposed, and Zarraz grinned at the paladin’s reflexive recoil.

  “Dreamer, what is that?”

  “It’s my cargo,” Zarraz replied.

  The catoblepas was a massive bull, lying in the wagon, its head weighed low by huge, curling horns. What caught the attention of Private Flowers, in addition to the wretched odor of carrion, was that the beast’s left flank was pulped and flecked with exposed organ meat and bone. The white-yellow foam of body fat dripped in puddles under the monster, and its innards gurgled as it struggled to find a new comfortable position.

  “Oh no you don’t,” Zarraz muttered, slapping the beast’s neck. “It’s time to play!” The creature grunt and began to rise.

  “Sir, get back!” Private Flowers commanded, thrusting an open palm in Zarraz’s direction as she gripped her warhammer from her hip with the other hand. An invisible force shoved Zarraz back, knocking him off balance. His tumble resulted in little more than drawing more attention to the rotting monster and the meager cargo inspector.

  With her arms outstretched, Private Flowers’ armor trembled on the chair before flying toward her and clapping on to her arms and torso. The creature spent the moments of her preparation taking in a deep breath. The sound was like gravel underfoot.

  Private Flowers lifted her hammer high, and then the beast began to exhale a thick, dusty fog. It stuck to the paladin’s armor in small, thin scales, but the scales accumulated and calcified. As the armor became heavier, Private Flowers let out a scream.

  And that allowed the stone mist to fill her mouth, throat, and lungs. In a matter of seconds, the paladin’s top half was encased in stone. Her legs gave out and she fell with a clack. The catoblepas then clumsily tumbled from the wagon as it attempted to acclimate to walking again.

  With the large creature missing, two more figures rose up in the back of the wagon. Blood stained and weary looking, the animated corpses of the Wrath Lich highwaymen looked onto the staring crowd. They were carrying crude blades Matt and Benji had found in their roadside camp.

  “Go!” Zarraz yelped as he tried to pull himself from the ground.

  Everyone within earshot took the command differently. The crowd nearby began to break into panicked screams having witnessed the death of paladin and the presence of armed assailants within The Throne. The two human corpses lept from the wagon and began their slaughter. The catoblepas strained to lift its heavy head and trumpeted a gravely, tortured cry.

  “What is happening?” the paladin at the gate asked when the cacophony at the inspection station interrupted his interview with Matthew.

  The paladin would not get an answer. Matt pressed his open palm against the guard’s armored chest. The heat surged underhand, then pop! The guard fell against the gate’s stone wall, a spatter of blood and innards leaving their mark in the brickwork.

  That caused a panic in the area immediately around them.

  “What did you do!?” a woman screamed.

  “We’re under attack!” cried a man.

  “Everyone run!” came someone’s bright idea. And the stampede began. Matthew kept his head down as he and Benji pushed inside. The crowd outside, panicked by the guard’s death, tried to run inside. The crowd immediately inside, terrified by the catoblepas and two dead assailants, tried to run outside. The paladin’s positioned throughout the gates quickly found themselves overrun and trampled.

  Pained cries rain out from people being sliced by the Wrath Liches mixed with the screams of those being pushed down and stomped on. And all of that mixed with the roars of the catoblepas as it alternated between breathing its lethal mist and goring those who were close by.

  “Matthew!” Benji screamed. “Where is the crypt!?”

  Matthew had no idea. The merchant hall stretched out ahead of them with its lifts and balconies going in all directions. For a split second, Matthew thought he saw the crimson eyes of his spectral ally floating ahead, but when he looked again, they were gone.

  “Let’s just get to an alley and regroup!”

  “Matthew! Are you kidding!? Were you even prepared!?”

  The High Council of the Church of the Will had convened on this day specifically because the Pontiff of the Church had received a warning that the thief with the Halcyon band would appear.

  The six other cardinals and single layperson that made up the council were satisfied with the explanation that, based on travel time from Happfield Chapel to the Throne, this would be the day the thieves would arrive. But the Pontiff knew the meeting would not be in vain.

  So when the doormen entered the massive, circular council chambers, marched to the center of the room, and bowed in turn to each of the seven councilmen and women seated behind the bench around them, the father hid that he knew what was happening.

  “Submitted to the High Council of the Church of the Will: there is an incident unfolding in the Main Hall of The Throne’s ground level. There has been a stampede at the gates and a catoblepas loosed in the city with an unknown number of assailants. We have confirmed Clergy and layperson deaths. One corpse had wounds consistent with the improper use of the Halcyon Band.”

  “Very well,” the Pontiff said quickly as the others looked around, their elderly faces practiced in expressing these levels of distanced concern. “Council, we have already discussed what shall be done in this event, have we not? We will not suffer another massacre as we did in the Back City.”

  “Your Holiness,” one of the priests said, rising. “I motion to dispatch an Inquisition to the ground floor and recover our relic. The Wrath Liches will not be permitted to spill any more blood in our city!”

  “I second the motion,” a priestess said as she rose.

  The council turned to James Estin, the only layperson on the council.

  “Mister Estin,” one of the cardinals called over. “As the man in charge of zoning and planning for the market hall, your input is required on this matter.”

  James looked up, sad and worried. “My daughter is in the market hall today. I want her safe.”

  “Very well,” the Father Superior nodded. He looked down at a small golden bell on the lectern before him. “An Inquisition shall be dispatched.”

  “Where will this tunnel let us out?” Kaitlyn asked her paladin partners after the silence grew sour.

  “A few blocks in from the gates. We will be able to check with the gate guards and give them a description of this guy you are looking for,” Shiner explained.

  There was a slight angle in the tunnel, and then ahead of them, the exit could be seen. Sam squinted into the darkness past his shield. The light of the exit was flickering. He extinguished the shield and urged Shiner to follow the suit.

  In the quiet and dark, once their eyes had adjusted, they realized that there were people running past the tunnel entrance. As if it took that clarity to trigger the senses, the frightened screams began to fill the tunnel around them.

  “We’re too late,” Kaitlyn whispered.

  Then, they were accosted by a sound louder than any of the three of them had heard in that muffled tunnel. The clanging of the main hall’s bells flooded the tunnel, drowning out the screams. The chime was only five notes, but after the final strike, the tone reverberated through the tunnel for some time.

  “What was that?” Kaitlyn asked, looking at the two paladins. Just barely she could see that Sam was frightened and Shiner was excited.

  “An Inquisition,” they both answered.