Stephen the lich walked inside his own home, Cade and Bunny on his heels. Stephen lurched to a halt and turned, a look of what could only be embarrassment plastered across his skullish face.

  “I’m terribly sorry,” the lich muttered and pointed at Cade’s feet.

  Cade followed the gesture, his own face contorting with incomprehension.

  “I must insist,” Stephen remarked meekly. “It’s awfully difficult to get the swamp stains out of the carpet. Neglect makes regret, and all that.”

  The skeleton raised his shoulders in embarrassed defeat.

  Cade noticed the disgusting condition of his boots. “Right! My apologies,” Cade said quickly before he unlaced his boots.

  As soon as the second one was set outside the door frame, a zombie shambled forward from the shadows. Cade took a step back in shock, but this living corpse was different from the previous ones he’d met.

  Its flesh was in far better condition, though that bar wasn’t particularly high. And, it wore britches and suspenders over its shoddy tunic.

  It stooped down with twitching movements and retrieved Cade’s boots. Before the thief could intercept the passive monster, Stephen spoke up.

  “Don’t worry about old Ferdinand!” Stephen promised brightly. “He’s just going to clean those up for you while we chat.”

  A part of Cade noted that it was an excellent way to keep him from escaping, as his speed through those murky waters would be drastically reduced without his boots. But on the plus side, they might get cleaned.

  Cade’s hand braced against the doorframe as he entered the lich’s abode. The hut’s interior was surprisingly cozy. The walls were lined with bookshelves filled with ancient tomes, and a warm fire crackled in the hearth, its flames green but oddly comforting. A small table set for tea awaited them, steam rising from a delicate porcelain teapot.

  With eyes that never left the lich as he waited for the kettle, Cade sat down, Bunny hopping onto the table and sniffing curiously at the teapot. Stephen busied himself with pouring the tea, his movements precise and practiced despite his skeletal form.

  “I must admit, it’s rare to have visitors here,” the lich remarked. “Most find the swamp… inhospitable.”

  Cade took the offered cup, the warmth seeping into his cold fingers. “Yeah, I’m not surprised my bony friend.”

  He lifted the pale teacup to his nose and inhaled slowly. The aroma was spectacular. Nutmeg and cinnamon were laced with a dash of elderflower in the steeping concoction of dried herbs.

  The young thief sighed in delight, and some of the tension in his shoulders eased. “So, Stephen, you run this place?”

  Stephen nodded, his oversized hat wobbling slightly. “Indeed. Like I said, I am the swamp, and the swamp is me. We are one and the same. It’s a symbiotic relationship, you could say.”

  Cade sipped the tea and resisted the urge to moan in delight.

  “Well done on the tea, your lichiness,” he admitted. “But why invite me here? What’s the catch? I mean, I’m not complaining about the pampering, but it wasn’t what I expected from this trial.”

  Stephen’s eye sockets seemed to twinkle with amusement at Cade’s odd use of his title, but his expression darkened at the mention of the trial. His voice remained even, however there was an undertone of bitterness in it now.

  “No catch, Son of Ruin.” He smiled congenially and used his skeletal fingers to stir his tea with a tiny silver spoon. “I sensed your power and thought you were an old companion of mine. Given that she died some centuries ago, it was quite a pleasant surprise to see you here. She was the last Child of Ruin I knew to roam this accursed world, so it’s nice to know at least one of you has carried on the flame of destruction in your hearts.”

  Cade’s guard didn’t fully drop, but he allowed himself to enjoy the tea. The warmth spread through him, easing some of the tension he felt as he studied his host. Bunny chirped happily, nibbling on a biscuit that Stephen had provided. Without looking up from the herbal concoction, he asked the first of many nagging questions on his mind.

  “You’ve used that title several times now. What does being a Child of Ruin mean, exactly?” Cade inquired.

  “Ahh, that.” Stephen tapped his silver spoon against the lip of his cup with a light clink, and then gently set it down on his saucer. “I see that not everything has been passed on to you, even though it seems your core has been established. Did you manage that all on your own, or did someone instruct you on how to deal with that unruly magic of yours?”

  “I—I figured it out, though these helped,” Cade answered in a calculating tone, and he pointed to his bracers.

  If he could get some answers from this strange encounter about his magic, he would welcome them. He just had to make sure he came out on top of this information exchange. He knew better than most that there was no such thing as free… tea.

  Stephen’s glowing green eyes flashed briefly, and a smile flashed across his face in recognition.

  “Indeed!” Stephen cackled, and his straw hat bobbed dangerously around his smooth skull. “Velna was a strange chap, to be sure. I’m glad those old bracers are in better hands, though. Death below, he made a mess of things before those bullheaded Lifekeepers got to him. I only saw him from afar with a few of my servants, but I still quite enjoyed the spectacle. Who knew you’d need two axe men to chop off one man’s head?”

  A knot formed in Cade’s gut, and his smile faded. “You still haven’t answered my question, Stephen.”

  The lich’s eyes burned with green energy, though he didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he took a long sip of his tea before he set it down next to the spoon.

  “It seems I haven’t. But I must say, I’ve been quite the talker while you’ve merely sat there listening to me prattle on. Why don’t you tell me what your intentions are in my swamp, and what connection you might have to that bitch of a goddess who put me here as a plaything for her…” Stephen lurched forward and vomited a dark ooze across the smooth wooden floor.

  His thin fingers dug into the table for purchase, carving deep grooves into the polished oak surface.

  “My apologies,” Stephen groaned as he rose back into his seat with a grimace. “It seems that nasty soul curse she’s got me in doesn’t like it when I tell her secrets. I see she has no such limitations on you, however. So please, speak freely, then I may answer your questions.”

  As polite as the words were, something shifted in the lich’s tone. Something heavy. Something sudden.

  Something dark.

  Buried in that courtesy was a veiled threat, and it took only a moment for Cade to figure out what had set his nerves on edge. If his answers didn’t satisfy the lich, he would be in trouble. The thief smiled widely, now knowing the game they played, and where most of the pieces were.

  His mind awakened to this new challenge, and he assessed the undead swamp owner with fresh eyes. He took in the slight tremor to his fingers, the tension set in his shoulders, and how his eyes kept flicking to the window just past Cade’s seated position.

  “Of course, Stephen,” Cade answered smoothly. “You’ve been a wonderful host, and I’m sure being stuck here for gods know how long has been more boring than watching oil paint dry. I am Cade. I harbor no ill will toward your swamp other than the fact that it has tried to kill me on numerous occasions and all in unpleasant ways. Barring that, if it doesn’t attack me again, I won’t go out of my way to harm it.”

  Stephen nodded.

  “As for your second inquiry, my good lich and brewer of truly remarkable tea, I have no connection with Life, nor do I wish for one,” Cade finished with a bow of his head and took another sip of his tea.

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  Bunny purred softly around his shoulders, bits of biscuit flaked across the little dragonling’s scaly mouth and nose.

  Stephen leaned forward, his right elbow pressing into the grooves of the wood his finger had just left on the table. “Then why do you stink of that accursed domain she rules over?”

  Cade’s mind fought to figure out what he was referring to, but he kept his face serene. “The arena? Or just Elysia in general? If so, it’s kind of difficult not to smell of that place. I doubt its flowery odors are pleasant when compared to your home, but—”

  “What makes you think I don’t like the smell of flowers?” The lich demanded coldly.

  The green flames in the room flickered wildly, and Cade swallowed hard. Bunny’s food coma dissipated at once, and he growled softly by Cade’s ear.

  “Well, you said you were the swamp. And this place doesn’t scream of floral decor, your lichiness.” Cade tapped a finger on the bottom of the table.

  The fight exited Stephen’s eyes, and he sagged back into his chair. “You’re right. I once grew honeysuckles that produced the most succulent poisons, and dandelions with fibers so small most didn’t even realize they’d died until hours later! Now look at me. I’m murky and decrepit.”

  The lich sighed, which sounded oddly like the great bellows of a forge.

  “It’s just another thing that scheming whore has ripped from me these past centuries.” The skeleton looked Cade in the eyes then, green flames of undeath confronting the stormy blue of Cade’s irises. “But I don’t mean this arena, nor the city that surrounds it. I meant that Oakthorn—”

  Before he could finish, another tremor shook the lich, and this time a sigil on his forehead as red as a firebrand sizzled to life.

  Stephen screamed. It was a hollow, wretched noise that grated against Cade’s psyche like a rake across gravel. It lasted for nearly a full minute, and when whatever triggered it ended, it left the lich struggling to breathe in his own home.

  “Tell you what,” Stephen croaked from where he was doubled over.

  Ichor spilled from between his cracked teeth. He wiped at it with the hem of his sleeve and slowly sat back up. His hat was discarded on the ground, exposing an ornate crown grafted into the top of his skull. Rubies and emeralds shone with magic across its circumference.

  “Tell me what you were doing down there, and if you have your sights settled on what’s hidden there, I will help you however I can.” Stephen’s chair creaked loudly as he leaned back against it.

  Cade paused, his fingers halting their rapid rhythm. He could feel this was the line. This was the moment he either got all that he needed, or fell into a trap he couldn’t escape from.

  Whatever it takes, he promised himself.

  He would get Rayka back and keep his friends from the executioner’s block. He would do it.

  “I plan to steal the Remnant that’s hidden beneath the arena,” Cade said before he reconsidered. “I don’t know if where I found it is that domain you’re smelling, but if you can help me get past those nasty traps, I would much appreciate it.”

  Cade waited for the shoe to drop, whether it be this lich killing him then and there to get into the good graces of Life, or possibly just entrapping him here with excellent tea.

  It never came.

  A smile as cold as the abyss crept across the lich’s face. “I was hoping you would say that. I would do it myself but—”

  He gestured to his body as if that was explanation enough.

  “Sorry, I don’t follow. Is it because you’re undead?” Cade asked.

  “Ha! No, child. I’m a lich. Liches are Death’s response to the dryad plague that spread some millennia ago,” Stephen explained. “Life decided to spread some of their territory, and so created a unique creature that could claim a region and attune it to a singular dominion. Dryads began popping up everywhere, beginning a race among the gods to claim territory of their own.”

  Stephen snorted in derision at the memory, and Cade did his best to memorize all of this priceless information. It was the first he’d heard of that section of their world’s history.

  “Death created us liches to accomplish exactly that,” the skeleton continued. “In exchange for immortality, we chosen few became our territories, making it virtually impossible to excise or exterminate us. That bitch managed to find a roundabout way around that little law of this realm, though, hence me being stuck here playing bully for this idiotic trial.”

  The lich spat on the ground, but no saliva actually escaped his lips, causing Cade to suspect that it was likely an old habit from before his current status as a lich.

  “That makes a lot of sense, thank you. But before you help me with this domain issue, I want you to name your price before I agree to whatever it is you’re going to offer me,” Cade warned with a raised hand.

  He had learned the value of information the painful way, and he refused to make a rookie mistake like that ever again. That one time with Cici was more than enough.

  Stephen laughed humorlessly. “Oh, there won’t be a need for that. Or, rather, my price is making sure my divine jailer suffers as much as possible when you steal from her. She’s more than earned it.”

  The swamp king reached down and plucked his straw hat from the ground, scratching a single, immaculate, fingernail along its edge.

  “You are a Child of Ruin, alright. That is a title given to the rare few who walk the path of destruction. Not fire, not storm, nor even annihilation, but destruction itself. Entropy. Chaos. That spark is inside you, and it is nearly impossible to rein in before it kills the host. Your core seems unnaturally pure with the stuff. How’d you say you came by it?” Stephen asked innocently.

  “I didn’t,” Cade said coolly.

  Stephen raised his hands in surrender. “Don’t go dropping your muffins in the ale, child. I was just curious, that’s all.”

  He settled his arms on the table and picked up the silver spoon, spinning it lazily across his bony knuckles.

  “The… place… you’re hoping to steal from is called a domain,” Stephen whispered softly, though his voice was as hard as steel. “It is named so due to its supernatural connection to a given dominion. There are domains pocketed in the most dangerous and elusive and best-protected parts of this world, child. This particular domain is connected to Life, believe it or not. And the thorny abomination that grows there is their literal and figurative seat of power. Do not underestimate its influence.”

  “The Oakthorn tree you tried to mention?” Cade hedged and earned himself a wry smile from the undead prince. When his fellow tea enthusiast didn’t—or couldn’t—respond, Cade knew his guess was right.

  “Now, most assume that it’s the antithesis of a dominion that possesses superiority over its counterpart. Life over death, and that all it takes is a greater power to dominate. But that is false. Life cancels death. Death cancels life,” Stephen explained in a soft voice reminiscent of a professor Cade once knew.

  “What dominates Life, then?” Cade asked eagerly.

  Stephen’s smile turned vicious. “Destruction, of course.”

  He steepled his fingers together beneath his chin and continued his impromptu lesson.

  “You see, Cade, dominions are always in balance against their opposite,” the lich spoke in a reverent tone. “When those scales shift, a counterbalance is always introduced. But when you throw in a new weight unrelated to those two opposing forces, you have control over them. Naturally, some dominions are better at this for another given dominion, but I won’t go into detail about which dominion is stronger or weaker than every other one out there. You don’t have the centuries needed to properly discuss such things.”

  “But Destruction is a natural counter to Life?” Cade pressed, needing to be sure.

  “Yes and no. It is more potent against it, yes. But the magic you are going up against is divine in origin and strength. You’ll need more than your copper core to overpower it, even if your dominion is best suited to do so,” Stephen warned.

  Cade waved his hand. “That’s fine.”

  His mind whirred with ideas. For the first time since he’d heard what Hugh had done, a glimmer of hope returned to his mind. The seed of a plan he’d had from before started to take root.

  Cade stood up, a genuine smile crossing his lips. “Thank you, Stephen. Truly. I would love to stay and chat more, but my friends and sister need me.”

  “Likewise, Son of Ruin. Go give that foul woman all the hell you can muster, and tell her it was from me when you do.” Stephen shook Cade’s hand and snapped his fingers.

  Ferdinand arrived a moment later with two freshly polished and relaced boots. Cade could’ve cried at the pristine items the undead held. He put them on with more reverence that might’ve been necessary. Ferdinand held out a thick scroll of bone-white parchment.

  Cade looked between the animated corpse and his master.

  “This is a technique for destruction magic my old friend left in my care. I think it will help you counter that nasty little domain long enough to acquire the Remnant you seek. Be careful with that, though. It’s designed for a minimum of silver-core users,” Stephen warned.

  “Thank you.”

  And Cade meant it.

  He slid the cylindrical paper into an inner pocket of his tunic and gave the lich a wide smile. Cade glanced down at his right wrist where his teleportation sigil was inked onto his skin.

  A new idea was added to his developing scheme. If he played his cards right, he might take his greatest weakness and use it against those who opposed him. Cade’s mind raced with possibilities, options added and redacted in such rapid succession that even his complex mind shuddered at the rush of inspiration.

  He had a plan. The start of one, at least.

  “I hope we meet again, Stephen.” Cade offered a parting nod to the kindly undead.

  “Oh, I have no doubt of that, Son of Ruin.” Stephen dipped his straw hat and then returned to his quaint home, Ferdinand following loyally on his heels.

  Cade's ears perked up at the sudden commotion echoing from the depths of the bog. Metal clashed against metal, the sharp ring carrying clearly over the murky waters. Shouts and grunts of exertion punctuated the air, accompanied by the occasional splash of bodies hitting the boggy terrain.

  Whatever was happening out there, it was no small skirmish. Cade tensed, his magic instinctively flaring as he strained his senses, trying to glean any clue about the combatants or the nature of their conflict. The sounds seemed to ebb and flow, sometimes drawing nearer, sometimes fading into the distance.

  “Let’s go find our friends,” Cade whispered to Bunny as he left the hut and started toward the loud commotion in the distance.

  Knowing his friends, they were right in the middle of whatever insane fight was unfolding just behind the thick bog in front of him.

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