Page 41 of Staff of Nightfall

Regulus half smiled. “Wake me at dawn, please. I can’t sleep past then. And tell my knights to meet me in the hall for breakfast just after dawn. Oh, alert the cook, too.”

“Yes, my lord.” Harold’s brow wrinkled. His eyes were full of questions Regulus was glad he wasn’t asking, because he was too exhausted to answer.

Regulus rubbed his eyes. “Is my room locked?”

“Oh, yes, one mo—”

“Just give me the key.” Regulus held out his hand. Harold’s mouth twisted down, but he gave Regulus his copy of the key. “Good night, Harold.” Regulus trudged up the stairs to his room.

Magnus knocked him onto his backside when he stepped into the room. “Okay, boy.” He chuckled as Magnus whined and soaked his face with his large tongue. He tried to push the massive fluffy dog away, but Magnus seemed heavier and stronger than he remembered. “Down, Magnus.”

Magnus whimpered, but moved off his chest. Regulus buried his fingers in the soft, fluffy brown fur on Magnus’ neck as he walked past to his bed, giving him a quick scratch. He stripped down to his trousers and sunk into bed. Magnus curled up next to him. The dog wasn’t Adelaide by any stretch, but his warmth brought some measure of comfort.

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MORNING AND HAROLD’Svoice came too soon. Regulus washed his face and shaved but had no time for a full bath. He pulled on clothes and headed to the hall, Magnus close on his heels.

Dresden, Perceval, and Caleb already sat at the table. Dresden stood as Regulus entered the room, his angular features pinched with emotion. He had dark circles under his eyes and his thick black hair was a mess, but his beard looked as well-trimmed and kempt as ever. Regulus smiled and nodded. Drez nodded back, some of the tension leaving his face as he eased back onto his chair. But he sat forward with his back ramrod straight, as if too on edge to relax.

Perceval rubbed his hand over his morning scruff and narrowed his eyes at Regulus. His nose was bright red and peeling, likely from working the field around his cottage. Caleb’s blond hair was even more tousled than usual, and the pitying look in his eyes as Regulus sat down made him wonder what they had been saying before he entered.

The door at the far end of the hall opened, and Estevan walked in. He smiled when he saw Regulus, creating deep dimples in his freckled tan face. They just needed—the main door swished open, and Jerrick strode in, panting like he had been running. He wore a bright orange shirt that contrasted well with his dark skin.

The men watched him intently with questioning eyes. Dresden’s temple pulsed. But none spoke, respecting Regulus’ right to tell them what he wanted, when he wanted. They had been called, and they knew it wasn’t as friends. They sat tall and alert, focused on their captain.

Regulus opened his mouth to speak, but the door to the kitchens opened, and servants emerged carrying trays of food, plates, and goblets filled with water. He waited for them to place the trays of bread, butter, boiled quail eggs, and thick-sliced ham on the table. He loaded his plate, even though he didn’t feel hungry between his worries over Adelaide and concerns for their upcoming mission. His men followed suit, albeit with more gusto, particularly Jerrick and Estevan, who were the youngest of the group.

Regulus cleared his throat as he spread butter over a piece of warm bread. “I’m certain you have questions. I will try to cover everything, but we are pressed for time.” He ate a couple bites before continuing. “Much has happened since I left. Of first importance,” he set down his bread and rolled up his sleeve, showing the underside of his forearm, “the sorcerer released me. My debt is fulfilled.”

Dresden, still sitting forward like he was afraid to let his back touch his chair, froze with his fork halfway to his mouth. Perceval choked on his water. Estevan grinned. Jerrick muttered something in Bhitran that sounded like a prayer of thanks to Hallilek. Caleb slumped back in his seat.

“Then it’s over?” Dresden lowered his hand to the table.

Regulus sighed. “Not really, no.” He took a long drink. No one moved. “Unfortunately, the sorcererisactually a prince. Prince Kirven. The king’s brother. He is plotting to kill the king and seize the throne.”

“So send the king a message.” Dresden glowered. “Who is king doesn’t concern us.”

“Considering the sorcerer seems bent on death, destruction, and revenge...yes, it should concern us.” Regulus tapped his finger against the side of his goblet. “But more directly, it concerns Adelaide and me.”

“He took Lady Belanger,” Perceval said, a stated guess more than a question.

“No. Adelaide is safe, or at least she was last I saw her. But if the sorcerer succeeds, neither of us will be safe.”

“Everything he made you do, everything he did to you, and he can’t leave you alone?” Dresden’s raised voice echoed in the hall.

“The sorcerer? Perhaps. But, unfortunately...” Regulus’ hand tightened around his goblet. He drew a steadying breath. “He has a new pet. A willing servant to whom he has promised wealth and political power for accepting the mark. If the sorcerer succeeds, Nolan Carrick succeeds with him. I’ll be a dead man, and Adelaide...” He cracked open a quail egg with more force than necessary and began eating its soft-boiled contents.

The men stared in stunned silence. Finally, Caleb asked, “Carrick...has the mark?”

“Yes,” Regulus said around a mouthful of bread and yolk.

“He’s like you were?” Perceval waved the piece of bread in his hand. “Strong, fast...immortal?”

Regulus nodded as he took a large bite of ham. Dresden cursed. Repeatedly and at length, his face red. Regulus had expected a negative response, but Dresden looked as if he’d taken Carrick joining the sorcerer personally.

“Reg.” Dresden’s voice was low and strained, and he glared at the table like he was considering stabbing it. “Where’s Adelaide?”

“On her way to warn the king. We’re not sure if any messengers got through. If she does as we agreed, she’s going to the palace.”

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