Jarek

  “Did you notice yet?” said the short guard.

  “Notice what?” replied the taller man, leaning against the wall, not even paying attention.

  “I got a new sword. We’ve been on this guard shift for half a day, and you still haven’t noticed. It’s not like we do anything down here.”

  The taller guard finally glanced over at the weapon resting in the shorter man’s belt. “You have got to be kidding me.” He finally seemed interested. “Hand it over.”

  “Be careful,” the short man said, releasing the weapon.

  Examining the blade, the taller man could see it was finely crafted. It was strong, thin, and light, bearing all the hallmarks of a nobleman’s sword. What set it apart was its guard, woven into an intricate pattern that wrapped around the wielder’s hand.

  “Wow, this is nice. How did you get it? I know our salary isn’t enough to buy something like this.”

  “Well, you know how you always complain that we’re stuck down here and never get any kickbacks like the other soldiers?”

  “Tell me about it,” the taller man grumbled. “They don’t give us a living wage, and not every soldier gets those contributions. It just isn’t fair.”

  “Well, I finally made my first bonus. Figured I’d show it off today before selling it on our next day off. Not sure how much…”

  A loud boom echoed from somewhere above them.

  Immediately, the taller man turned the sword he had just received back on the shorter guard, leveling the blade at his chest. “Did you do this?”

  The short guard raised his hands, but since he was still holding the sword’s sheath, it didn’t look much like a surrender. “No. I swear. All I did was sell some information.”

  “What kind of information?”

  “Nothing important. Just the positions of guards at each station. Some basic questions about our protocols. Nothing major. It’s not like we even know what’s in here.”

  The taller man lowered the sword slightly but kept his grip firm. “That wasn’t a smart thing to do. We work here.”

  “No, man. This is just a coincidence. There are way too many guards to kill before reinforcements show up. That’s why it’s designed this way. We’re the last in line, and there’s no way anyone can get this far.”

  “I hope so,” the taller guard replied, finally handing back the sword before drawing his own in anticipation of an attack.

  Eventually, the silence was broken.

  “You think we should help the others?”

  “No,” the taller man said sternly. “You know the rules. Other guards can push forward to secure the outer gates, but we cannot leave this door. It must be guarded by two men at all times. If we’re caught abandoning our post, it means death.”

  After a brief stare-down, both men eventually sheathed their swords. The mine had gone quiet. Surely these intruders had been dealt with by now.

  Then, two figures dropped silently from the ceiling.

  They moved as one, each blade piercing a soldier before the guards even registered their presence. Twin knives stabbed deep into their necks from both sides, silencing them before a cry could escape.

  Death did not come immediately.

  The tall guard collapsed to the ground, hands clawing at the knives in his throat. His attacker remained on his back, stabbing again and again, each strike sending blood splattering across the stone floor. The taller guard struggled, but the damage was too significant, and his life was slipping away with every desperate grasp.

  The shorter guard remained on his feet a moment longer, trying to dislodge his assailant, who was clinging to his back. He fumbled for his sword, but with his attacker behind him, the effort was useless. Unlike the other intruder, the woman on his back did not stab wildly. Instead, she dragged her blade in long, deliberate strokes across his throat, opening him up with precise, practiced slashes.

  “Did you have to stab him so many times?” I asked, wiping blood spatter from my face. The worst thing about overweight guards was how much their blood splattered everywhere. My cloak and face were completely drenched. It was disgusting.

  “Are you kidding me? We were stuck up there all day listening to these two idiots. They were some of the dumbest fucks I’ve ever heard. If I had a healing potion, I’d feed it to your guy just so I could stab him too,” Jackson muttered, his voice still carrying the edge of his irritation.

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  I never knew what to expect from him. Jackson had always been the short-tempered type, and he found a strange sense of catharsis in stabbing people. He called it his ‘stab-happy mood.’ Not to be confused with his ‘slap-happy mood.’

  I could see the manic energy in his eyes, gleaming with something too close to enjoyment for my taste. I would never understand some people.

  “Yeah, they were annoying,” I admitted. “But listening to one day of their mindless drivel is nothing compared to the riches we’re about to take.”

  Speaking of which, I grabbed the finely made sword from the fallen guard’s belt and secured it to my own. No reason to let a valuable weapon like this go to waste.

  Jackson’s mood shifted the moment his focus landed on our objective. “That’s a good point. What do you think is behind this door?”

  “It’s a mine, so I’d assume gold or jewels. But from the intel we received, it’s been heavily guarded since the death of the first king. That could mean something even more valuable,” I replied. I had spent a lot of time thinking about our mission and the noble who had contracted us. This was the wealthiest region in the kingdom, so anything could be hidden down here.

  “You know what I’ve been thinking?” Jackson mused. “What if we kept what’s in here?” His voice trailed off, but we both knew exactly what he was suggesting.

  It was both a terrible and an intriguing idea. Stealing the loot for ourselves wouldn’t just mean betraying the noble, but it would mean betraying our organization. The noble we could handle, but our own people knew too much about us. They’d know where we’d run and surely kill us.

  “You’re already missing two fingers,” I said, gesturing to his bloody hands, where he was missing a pinky on each. “Any more mistakes, and it’ll cost you your neck.”

  Jackson’s deep voice rumbled with irritation. “I know that. That’s why I think this might be a good option. There’s no way I'm making it out of this clean. I’m going to fuck up eventually, and when that happens, they won’t just take another finger. At least this way, I can leave on my terms.”

  Jackson was a good man in his way, and he was right. They’d gone easy on him so far, but it was only a matter of time before they had to kill him. Once he was deemed too unreliable, he would become just another loose end. He would die so the organization could keep its dark secrets.

  But that left the question. What would happen to me?

  “You know I can’t go back without the treasure…or without you,” I said carefully as I knelt before the door and began picking the lock.

  “True,” he admitted, “but I think this score might be big enough for both of us to disappear together. Think about it. Why would a noble be involved in an illegal heist against the crown?” He let the thought linger.

  I focused on testing the tumblers, letting him talk.

  “That means the payout has to be worth the risk. Worth more than even a noble’s fortune,” he continued. “I mean, look at that sword. Someone has invested significant resources into keeping this place secure. And that might work in our favor. If that noble overextended himself, if the riches inside are truly immense, he might have to worry about the crown more than us.”

  “I’m not worried about the noble,” I replied as a tumbler clicked into place.

  “Our people are the real problem.” Jackson sighed. “But I heard that same noble contracted them for an operation in the Middle. If they move north while we slip out along the coast, we’ll have a huge head start. We might be able to set up somewhere else. Somewhere they can’t reach us.”

  Jackson and I went way back, and that was the only reason he spoke so openly with me. I knew if I didn’t take him up on his offer, he’d try again with someone else. No one else would keep their mouth shut, and he’d end up dead. If I weren’t going with him, I would have to convince him to drop the idea entirely.

  “Escaping to the Black Rock Islands is out of the question,” I said, testing the next tumbler. “I heard the noble has some kind of agreement with them.”

  “Fine,” he muttered. “Doesn’t matter where, as long as it’s not here. We sail west, set up our own little kingdom.”

  The lock clicked.

  “How about we see what’s inside?” I said, still considering his words. “I agree with your points, but we still have to get out of here with the treasure first.”

  “Agreed,” Jackson replied.

  The door groaned as it swung open, revealing nothing but darkness.

  A heavy, stale air rushed past us, thick with the scent of damp earth and something else. It was rancid. It was old. I felt it settle in my lungs like dust from a tomb long undisturbed.

  Jackson stepped forward first, gripping his knife tightly. “We need to hurry.”

  I didn’t need the reminder. I was already lighting the torch. He could have done that while I was picking the lock, but it was always good to have one person on guard while the other worked.

  As the flame flickered to life, we rushed forward into the darkness, only to find ourselves in a cavern that stretched deeper. Not long after, we reached a fork and came to a stop.

  “Which way?” Jackson asked, peering down both tunnels, but all we could see was endless black.

  Jackson was a straightforward person. He had seen a goal, and he would move toward it. Thinking things through wasn’t his strong suit, but he was reliable. He needed someone to slow him down before he ran headfirst into danger.

  I scanned the ground, then pointed to a rusted cart off to the side.

  “For mining, the carts needed a smooth path to move efficiently. Look at the ground. This one’s been worn down, the stone smoothed by years of wheels and heavy loads. The other path is uneven, jagged. That means it either wasn’t used often or wasn’t meant for transport at all.”

  “So that…” Jackson started but stopped mid-sentence. A sound echoed from the tunnel I had just pointed to. It sounded like a sharp, uneven pounding of footsteps.

  His grip tightened around his knife. “I thought no one was supposed to be down here.”

  My mind raced for an explanation. “You smelled the air. There’s no way someone could be down here. It reeks of death.”

  Then, another sound from the opposite tunnel.

  A thudding impact. Then another. Like bodies slamming into walls in their blind rush toward us.

  My stomach twisted.

  We weren’t alone.

  There weren’t just people down here. There were many. And they were moving toward us.

  Jackson’s voice was tight. “Should we kill the torch?”

  Fear clawed at my chest, but I suspected that would only ensure our deaths. There were no lights ahead. No torches. No lanterns. If whatever was down here could see in the dark, then blinding ourselves was suicide.

  Even as professionals in Sneak, I doubted we could hide now.

  They knew we were here.

  I swallowed hard. “Hold your ground. Hopefully, it’s just Goblins or Dwarves.”

  The lie barely left my lips before the sound became a roar of movement. Dozens. Maybe more.

  Then they rushed us from both sides.

  I barely had time to react before the horde descended.

  And in that moment, I realized just how wrong I had been.

  This wasn’t an abandoned mine where the Crown hoarded its treasures.

  This was a prison.

  No, not a prison.

  A tomb.

  A tomb for the undead.

  Thirteen years ago, the Lich Queen was merely Kai’s quiet and awkward classmate at Lokora’s Magic Academy.

  In hindsight, Kai should have probably defended her from her bullies.

  Luna’s lich transformation killed thirteen. The academy burned to disbandment, and Kai lost his dreams in a coma, waking up with an odd power: the ability to witness traumatic events through the eyes of the victim. In the years since, Luna had become the Lich Queen—the most feared black magic practitioner alive.

  When Luna returns to Lokora for unfinished business thirteen years later, Kai’s power offers an unexpected opportunity. To return to the past, into the classroom where Lich Queen Luna is still a fourteen-year-old despised prodigy of magic, who sits alone at lunch, called cursed by the students around her.

  This time, Kai sets out to stop Luna from causing the transformation, until he learns that bullying alone may not have been what pushed her to darkness…