They made it to the intersection to find a very nervous Virryn waiting for them. She was trying to appear as inconspicuous as possible in the shadows cast by the lantern light, but it only made her look more out of place.
“Thank the stars,” she breathed. “I was worried that…” she stopped as she noticed Henric. “What is he doing here?”
“Kre adopted him,” Kersath growled with a shrug that indicated he wanted no part of this. “Wants to reform him and make him a better human being or some such thing.”
“Ah think it’s a good deed the lads doin’,” Gnore said cheerfully. “Thar’s hope for all the misguided lambs. One soul atta’ time, ah always says. One soul atta’ time.”
“Well,” she replied, slightly flustered at the very odd turn of events but trying hard not to show it, “I suppose there is room for all who oppose the Master.”
“Where are the others?” Kersath asked, seemingly eager to move on and get to the fighting. He slid his blade out and looked down along the edge of the blade with a critical eye.
Virryn waved down the hallway to the left of where they had emerged. Kersath started to head down, but Virryn quickly called after him, “But Talimar wanted you all to head to the arena.”
Kersath stopped in his tracks and cocked his head to one side. “Why for?” he asked slowly. It was clear that he wasn’t happy with the new orders.
“He asked…” she paused and took a deep breath, “rather, he said that it was to be an order that you three… well, four now, I suppose… are to report to the arena and create a distraction. That will allow the others more time to evacuate the other prisoners and the Ylveryan.”
“What kind of distraction?” Kre asked. “What does he want us to do?”
The dark Ylveryan slammed his blade back into the scabbard with a scowl. “Now we are the decoy team. Fine. That is… just fine.”
“The Dweorvkin, I cannot recall his name, also said that if you see any of the devil creatures, you are to engage only if you can do so cleanly and if the situation allows. I did not know what he meant, but I assumed that you would.”
“Ortho,” Gnore rumbled in response. “Aye, ah know what’s meant.”
“The Rakshasa?” Kre asked aloud.
Kersath spun quickly to face Kre with a glare so icy that he felt the chill down his neck to his toes. Even during the planning phase, when Virryn had been present, they had mentioned the Rakshasa only vaguely and using different words, as Ortho had when having the message passed down. Kre realized now that using the proper name might not be in their best interest.
“There are Rakshasa here?” VIrryn gasped. “Are you certain?”
“Wait,” Henric said, shuffling slightly away from the group, “you mean those shapeshifting demon spawn? No way. Dealing with the other guards is bad enough, but to have my soul sucked out with just a glance? No thank you.”
“They don’t do that,” Kre said, trying to be reassuring, but he glanced over at Kersath and added a hesitant, “do they?”
“What if…” Virryn looked from Kersath to Henric and inclined her head, asking an unspoken question and clearly not liking what the thought might be leading to.
Kersath caught on to what she was thinking and narrowed his eyes at their captive. “I admit, I had not considered that possibility. It would be clever to put one of their own in with the other guards to keep a better eye on things. It is why we should have killed him in the first place.”
The sound of metal scraping across leather was far louder in this space than it had any reason to be.