Risens moved quickly through piles of loose sand against the face of the stone berm lining the upper edge of the beach. There, any definition of his footprints would immediately fade, diffusing into nothing more than featureless depressions smoothed by the steady wind of the waters. Ahead, the dark shapes of the ravens, lined by a dim yellowing glow, floated silently on the breeze.

  Though no alarms rose from his avian guides, he slowed as he reached every gated boardwalk and elaborate staircase leading back up the dunes to the manors above. MageLights and torches marked the scattered patrols along the beachfront properties, though none lingered close to the shore. He doubted any of the estates contained more than the essential skeleton crew of servants and staff beyond the reinforced contingent of private guards. The Lady’s estate was, of course, the cause and the exception.

  Even from a few hundred meters away, he could see the activity that bustled around the mansion grounds. It had been almost a week since he and Marlaine had fled the manor, strolling arm in arm along the lapping shore of the Sea Solace. He knew that his return trip would be far different than his previous visit. There would be no grand entrance, no musicians and dancing to occupy him until the deepest hours of the night.

  He welcomed the change.

  Stealth and the shadows would again be his trusted companions.

  This time, there were no restrictions on what he could do to complete his tasks.

  For once in what seemed ages, the goals were established entirely by him and for his own benefit. He expected messy work ahead. He would make an effort to mitigate the death, if possible, knowing that the soldiers guarding the estate were merely following orders. However, he no longer viewed the damage to the king’s loyal guards as collateral.

  Risens watched the lights of the patrols along the rear of the estate. He noted the sentries who remained at their posts, using the deeper shadows to cover their positions. Their attempts were admirable, but in the end, would be futile in stopping him.

  Having studied the layout on paper as well as having walked the grounds, he knew that there was very little lawn between the mansion and the seawall separating it from the beach. The thin strip of greenery held nothing of interest, unless one’s purpose was to admire decorative plants. It was the narrow, darkened walkway of the building behind that drew his focus. He watched the moving shadow to the side of the single door along the unlit stretch of the lowest level. They’d left the most conspicuous manner for approach woefully guarded. He surmised that even a novice with the will to cause mayhem would have little difficulty gaining entrance. The volume of armed and anxious soldiers, however, was sure to give even the foolhardy pause.

  He was neither foolish nor an amateur.

  Risens was determined. Capable and competent.

  The beachside of Lady Myrenas’s sprawling estate stretched three stories into the night sky. The grand patio that extended from the building was adorned with sculptures and brilliantly colored flowers, and it contained ample places to relax in the plush comfort of couches and chairs. Nearly twenty meters of perfectly laid stone separated the expansive lanai from where the building’s impressive walls began. Much like Excelsior, the surface was covered in floor-to-ceiling panes of immaculately clear glass. Though it was well into the night, the interior was fully illuminated, on display for anyone passing by on the water or the sand.

  He’d not had the time nor the desire to explore much of the estate during his previous visit. Even in the height of the festivities, the few hallways he’d roamed had been quiet and secluded. He counted nearly a dozen soldiers as they went about the business of searching the manor. Their methods were far from precise, leaning on destruction as they tore the building down to the frame in search of information needed to feed the insatiable appetite and desires of the King. The scattered piles of wreckage in the halls made it clear that they had been diligent in their search.

  Risens ducked behind one of the small scraggly scrub bushes that dotted the upper slope of the beach. A pair of guards patrolled the edge of the balcony; the halos of light that illuminated their movements were counterproductive to their cause. Not only did it highlight their presence for anyone like him who skulked in the shadows, but it also hindered their vision in the dark.

  Likely, they were all under the assumption that, owing to the King’s disgusting display of brutal justice, none would beunwise enough to attempt any further treason. Especially not so soon, and definitely not so close to the same target.

  Aside from the patrol on the upper level, he marked only a trio of guards hiding in the shadows of the beachfront. One guarded the door, while the other pair leaned against the sculpted railing of the decorative stone staircase that curled up to the estate from the sand.

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  All stood in his way.

  Risens beckoned the ravens with a whisper. Again, the smaller of the pair alighted on his shoulder, while the other hopped along the sand near his boots.

  “I see only three who lurk in the shadows along the beach. Have I missed any?”

  The talons that gripped his arm squeezed tighter as the bird shook its head, confirming what he’d expected.

  “What I seek is indoors. Once I’ve entered the building, you are released from your current duties. Thank you again for your faithful watch, my friends.”

  With motions that were oddly poignant, the pair bowed low as they acknowledged his command. That they could clearly understand him was a gift, yet he was frustrated that, with all his skills, he lacked the means to understand their sounds as language. Their actions, however, were clear to understand as they took to flight.

  The beachfront offered a level of concealment that was advantageous to his cause. Disguised among the grasses and shrubs, his movements were hidden by the deep shadows of the night, perpetual movement of the vegetation in the steady breeze that blew perpetually off the sea. The rhythmic hiss of the waves lapping against the shore would cover any inadvertent noises.

  With the birds circling again overhead, there was no time to waste.

  Stalking through the cover of flora, his focus remained on the patrolling soldiers of the manor grounds. The pair above had met in the middle of their lazy circuit, locked in what appeared to be an animated conversation of some sort. In the shadows in front of the building, the other shifted, pacing away from the darkened staircase to the beach. Those above had doomed their companions at the base of the stairs by their lack of attention.

  An insatiable urge for violence surged as Risens pulled the Raven Talons from their sheaths.

  “Blood and gore!”

  “Rotten, filthy toe-lickers.”

  The burning symbols flashing to light in the corners of his vision. He stopped a few paces away as an idea sprang into his mind. Collecting a piece of driftwood from the sand, he tossed it a few steps up the stairs, the clatter of the wood alerting the soldiers guarding the steps.

  “What in Pylkev’s name was that?”

  Risens grinned at the ease of his plan. The guard’s words were all he required; the tone was committed to his mind. Darting from behind the scraggly bush, he let the blade in his right hand fly. Countless hours of his youth had been spent honing and mastering the ability to throw a blade with deadly proficiency. He felt only a hint of pull as the weapon corrected his action. Lunging across the sand, he collided with the second guard the moment the knife embedded itself in the heart of the first.

  The entirety of his attack had started and reached its violent conclusion in a matter of a few breaths. Beyond the noise of the driftwood on stone, the few words he’d hoped to elicit had been uttered without raising an alarm. With the darkness of the night covering much of his work, he hastened forward. Retrieving the blade from the chest of the first soldier, he cleaned it on the man’s tunic, watching the symbol increase by another digit before he returned it to its sheath. Both blades had advanced their timing during the brief attack.

  Risens wastes no time dragging the corpse down the stairs, taking care not to let the man’s boots or head clatter against the wood. He soon deposited the pair in the shrubs along the sandy dunes. Their bodies would be discovered the moment the sun crested the horizon, though at that point, it would matter little. He would have been long gone before anyone knew he had infiltrated the estate.

  Risens confiscated one of the uniform coats from the deceased soldiers and threw it over his shoulders. In the darkness, the meager disguise would more than suffice. At a casual gait, he ascended the stairs from the beach. A dozen steps up the curving path, he turned off to the side, easily vaulting the closed iron gate that served to block easy access to the door he sought. The soldier, concealed in the shadows at the end, immediately noted his approach.

  “Aye, what do you want?” he hissed. “Get back to your post.”

  “The silly fool sent me up here for your help,” Risens responded, using the Voice of the Raven to copy the tone of the soldier by the beach.

  “Help with wha—” His grumbled response was cut short as Risens closed the distance between them, driving one of the Talons into his heart. With only a hushed gurgle, the man died in his arms. He would be a tragic addition to the ornamental bushes and flowers come morning, but for now, their leaves worked to hide the evidence.

  Timing the crash of the waves on the shore, Risens waited to open the door. He was entirely unsurprised to find it unlocked owing to the presence of the King’s soldiers. This was not a section of the sprawling estate he was unfamiliar with. That he was one floor below the main level was fortuitous, as it appeared the bulk of the activity was centered on the upper floors, the personal wing of the late Lady, the offices, and protected meeting rooms.

  The general scope of the King’s investigations was well known to him, though he expected that this would be a far more comprehensive investigation than the others he’d observed. Generally, at least a platoon of twenty soldiers would be accompanied by a select team, depending on the mission’s needs. His activities at the estate of Duke Kariaes would have included several inspectors, scouring the man’s home for further clues of treason, as well as an equal or even greater number to cover up the extent of the killing, to cleanse the area of any signs that the crown could have taken any part in the massacre. Here, there was no need to cover any tracks. Beyond the contingent of guards, the teams involved had a singular purpose.

  Risens didn’t know the true scope or information contained within the pages of the Dreamcatchers’ tome. That it chronicled as much about the Rightmaker, and him in particular, hinted at the potential severity of the intelligence. King Lathrenon would leave no stone unturned in his quest to find more.

  He nodded his thanks to the ravens circling overhead. The faint yellow outline that surrounded them faded into darkness as they disappeared into the night. The distant haunting echo of their song followed him as he slipped into the estate.