Lord of the Night

Chapter 66: The Visitor

Borgal looked bad. In the two weeks since I had seen him, he had lost significant weight. The shirt-pant set hung loose in some places, pinched baggy skin in others, and stretched tight over the swollen bulge of his stomach. His shoulders slumped crooked, one side pressed up toward his ear while the other drooped unnaturally low. Worst of all, the gray splotches covering his face now spiraled so deep that they pushed his features askew, tilting his nose to the side and forcing his eyes almost shut.

Somehow, his trembling lips managed a smile when he saw me and Fraschkit. "Remgar, Fraschkit..." Borgal turned to each of us as he choked out our names. "I'm so, so relieved to see you're both alright."

On the walk here, hot rage had pumped through my veins, but now cold nausea doused that fire. Fraschkit had asked me to join because she believed I was 'better at controlling my emotions,' but I feared she was wrong. I fought the urge to turn back toward Isalio, who waited at the entrance of the chamber in two blocker cuffs. I didn't really fear the pathetic traitor before me, but I definitely feared my own emotions, and I would have felt better with Isalio at my side.

Fraschkit hissed through her teeth. "I'm equally relieved to see you—relieved that I get the chance to kill you myself."

Borgal fell to his knees and folded forward, pressing his forehead to the ground near her feet. "Please, please, forgive me." He reached toward Fraschkit's boot. "Please, give me another chance. You—you don't understand..."

She jerked her foot out of his reach, face twisted in disgust. "Don't touch me. If you want to live, you better give us answers fast. Why are you here? Did the Demons send you?"

"No, no, no. I escaped."

"Yeah, we've heard that before." She twisted her head toward the others present: Kardki and three Mantle residents, Bakvar the Guardian, Jafflu the human, and Eranea the Demon. "Have you checked him for a tracking chip?"

Jafflu tipped his head and hummed affirmation. "Our scavengers always use a metal detector on anyone seeking refuge."

Bakvar frowned at Borgal. "Sounds like what we really need is a lie detector—our scavenger group ate up all this scumbag's stories. He told them he narrowly escaped a harrowing captivity at the palace, only to be betrayed by his own people."

As with most of Borgal's lies, there were pieces of truth in that. I hoped that the 'betrayal by his own people' part meant that our Guardians tasked with warning others had been successful. And I hoped that Borgal knew that the people he had called 'friends' were responsible for the rest of the Guardians turning against him; that we were now no more loyal to him than he had been to us.

"They aren't the only ones he fooled," I said. "He's good at pretending to be someone he's not."

"Remgar," Borgal rasped. "Remgar, please, I'm still your friend."

"If everything had gone according to your plan, all of your so-called friends would be chained up in the barn."

He whimpered, clutching his protruding belly. "I kept you safe, didn't I? I arranged for you and Fraschkit to leave the base before the Demons arrived!"

That made me pause because I had already wondered that same thing. Our dismissal had been too convenient. But even if that part was true, that didn't make him any less a traitor.

"You followed every order the palace gave you for years."

"Anyone who has experienced this much pain is free to judge me."

"The Queen said you broke easily."

"Look at me, Remgar." When I shook my head, he repeated it louder, hoarser. "Look at me! Does this look easy?"