Chapter 20: A Helpful Hand

The inn was completely ablaze, flames pouring out of its windows, the wooden frames crumbling down, and thick black smoke choking the night. People were shouting, buckets clanging, bells ringing somewhere far off. A woman wailed—someone’s mother, or maybe someone’s wife—but the sound felt distant, muffled. Adam was unable to move, shock and disbelief freezing him in place. His eyes followed the flames crawling up the second-floor windows, Katryn’s window. Was she ... no, he shook his head. There were bodies lying on the street already, some charred beyond recognition, some still smoldering, dragged out by desperate neighbors. None of them were moving, and any one of them could be...

Adam didn’t finish the thought, he couldn’t, he just stared, guilt settling inside his chest. It was all his fault. He had miscalculated—thinking Katryn and her mother would be safe as long as he wasn’t here, thinking Julius and the Hand wouldn’t come after them since they weren’t involved. He had assumed they would consider the inn to be little and insignificant, but that assumption had been wrong. Katryn, her mother ... it was because of him. He might not have caused this fire, but he had led trouble straight to their door by staying too long, by letting them become important, then he had abandoned them.

He should have expected this. He’d misjudged Julius and the Hand, imagined limits and restraints where none existed. He was the one they were after, but he should’ve known, or at least, anticipated they’d be willing to burn an entire inn full of people if they thought that it had anything to do with him. They were that kind of men.

A wave of anger followed behind the guilt that gripped him, simmering and coiling so tight in his chest it felt like breath couldn’t pass through. His fingers closed into fists at his sides, and his nails bit into his palms hard enough to draw blood. The dark energy inside him stirred, restless, responding to his surging anger, his grief ... his hatred. Unbeknownst to him, his eyes bled into pitch black, the whites consumed by the hatred burning through his soul, and black smoke slowly began to curl around his feet as his shadow lengthened. Adam noticed none of this, his entire mind fixed on the targets of his hatred.

He already knew the ones responsible. Every instinct he had inside of him screamed for immediate action, for blood, for retribution. Forget whatever future plans he had, they deserved to suffer now, deserved to die. And not alone. Anyone they cared about, anything that mattered to them, would be reduced to ashes, and only then would his revenge end.

“They’re safe,” a voice suddenly said behind him.

At the words, Adam’s heart stopped beating and his fists slowly unclenched. It felt like a splash of cold water to his face, bringing him back to the present. He blinked, trying to process the words. They were safe? How could they be ... safe?

He turned slowly, then he saw Elliot standing behind him, wearing a long cloak that hid his armor. The knight took a shaky step back as soon as he faced him, then dropped to his knees, his eyes going wide with fear as though he’d just seen his own death.

“They’re ... safe?” Adam’s voice didn’t sound like his own.

Elliot hesitated with his response, then he swallowed past a lump in his throat and gave a quick nod. “Yes ... shaken, but they’re safe ... they’re safe,” he said, his voice tight. “I got them out before the fire spread all over the inn ... they’re safe, I swear.”

Immediately, Adam’s rage came crashing down—not fading entirely, but no longer burning out of control—smothered under a rush of relief so sudden it left him weak in the knees, and the dark energy that had been rising inside of him sharply receded. He let out a deep, heavy breath, his head suddenly feeling lighter as the murderous thoughts faded. He scrubbed his face with his palms, steadying himself, then glanced back at Elliot.

Surprise flickered through him. Why was he on his knees?

Adam reached out a hand to help him up, but the Silver-Rank knight refused to take it, pushing himself up to his feet instead. Adam suddenly remembered what Elsa had told him, that Elliot was deathly afraid of his magic. Was that what had happened? Had he used his power without realizing? He’d been so angry, so utterly consumed by loathing, that it hadn’t registered to him. The last time he’d felt that kind of rage and hatred was in that room, where he’d been tortured ... where he’d drawn on dark energy, did that mean—No, that wasn’t important right now. He would have time to think about what it meant later.

“Where are they?” Adam asked finally, his voice back to normal.

Elliot’s jaw clenched, his gaze flicking to Adam’s eyes as though he expected lasers to come flying out of them. “Somewhere safe,” he said in a forced calm, then settled himself by clearing his throat. “We should get off the street. I’ll take you.”

Adam responded with a nod, and Elliot turned, pulling the hood of his cloak up as he began to move. He led Adam away from the chaos, down a narrow side street already filling with smoke and ash. The further they went, the more quiet it became, the shouts and bells fading until all that remained was the soft thud of their boots against the ground. They took several turns, Elliot choosing to walk along the alleys and back roads rather than the main thoroughfares. Adam followed in silence, his thoughts racing despite the immense relief still echoing through him.

“I’m glad you got them out,” Adam said after a moment. “But ... I thought you were gone with Elsa.” He was a little suspicious, but he managed to keep it out of his voice.

“Elsa had me stay behind to keep an eye on things here,” he said.

Adam had completely forgotten about that. Elsa had been worried before she left, it made sense that she wouldn’t want to leave him—or the inn—defenseless. But why hadn’t Elliot shown himself over the past two days? He could have made better plans if he knew there was help.

“Do you know why the inn was attacked?” Adam asked.

Elliot didn’t answer immediately. He just slowed his steps, then exhaled through his nose, considering how much to say. “I received a tip from one of my contacts,” he began. “The Hand decided to clear the board, a clean slate. Anyone even remotely associated with you was marked. Elsa will likely be attacked as well, if she hasn’t been already.”

Adam’s steps faltered immediately. The words hit him like a blade through his chest, and his breath caught in his throat. It wasn’t because of Elsa being attacked, she could take care of herself, his worry lay elsewhere. For a moment, the world narrowed again, the night pressing in tight around him. ‘Everyone remotely associated with you’, those were Elliot’s exact words, and a single name shot to the forefront of his mind ... Lorelei.

If they’d been keeping tabs on him, and they knew about the inn, then they certainly knew about her as well. Was she safe? ‘Anyone associated with him’, the words echoed in his head again. If there was a list, then Lorelei was sure to be included in it. Adam stopped dead as a sinking feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. His hands went cold at his sides, his chest tightened, and each breath suddenly grew too shallow, too strained.

Elliot turned when he noticed he wasn’t following, and his posture shifted, suddenly snapping into alertness. “What is it?” he asked in a sharp voice.

“There’s someone...” Adam forced the words past his clenched jaw. “I—”

“The demi-human?” Elliot interrupted.

Adam’s head snapped up instantly. “What?” he asked, his eyes flashing with a faint hope, his gaze locked on Elliot’s face, barely even blinking.