Free Curse Of The Dark Wind (Book 6) by Charles E. Yallowitz

prefer that.”
    “Even more of a reason to do the opposite.”
    “Aren’t you too old to be the rebellious teenager?”
    “Yes, but I’m talking about the big picture wherein I take my father’s throne.”
    Trinity laughs and throws her finished mug into the sink, the basin filling with soapy water as soon as the cup hits the bottom. “Except you need the champions to face your father in order for him to regain that throne. That is unless you want to oversee a rotted continent and the realm of demons, which even the Baron has admitted to being too chaotic to truly rule. Grinding chaos elves under your foot is one thing, but demons need to be appeased and ruled with power and presence. You have the power, Stephen, but you carry the presence of a pompous egomaniac. I suggest you stick to your games while leaving the real work to your father. Am I right, General Vile?”
    Putting his eye-patch back on, the halfling leaves the barstool and goes to get his boots from the entrance. He frowns as he touches the wet leather, dropping them back on the ground and wiping his hands on his dull red chainmail shirt. He ignores the calls for his return and wanders the other rooms, his mind lost in thought. Vile stops in the small pantry and takes a flask of Calican gin, shuddering when he tastes the strong brew. He sighs when he feels dry boots appear on his feet and a shadow looms over him.
    “Are you unable to follow my orders?” Stephen kindly asks, a sinister glint in his sapphire eyes. “I hope you didn’t lie to my father. You know how he hates dishonesty.”
    “I might not be as skilled as my son when it comes to stealth, but I can do the job. I was simply waiting for my boots to dry.”
    “Well they’re dry,” the black-haired man states. With an iron grip, he grabs Vile’s hand and presses a jade pin into his flesh. “Talk into this and I will hear you. The pain will pass in a few seconds.”
    The halfling grimaces as he pulls his hand away, the pin resembling a bleeding mole in his palm. He is about to say something when Stephen snaps his fingers and a burst of darkness envelopes the soldier. The next thing Vile knows, he is standing behind a thicket on the side of a dirt road. It is an eerie night with only the blue light of Tavon, the winter moon, shining on the leafless forest. He sighs and slips his hands into his pockets, grabbing a pair of enchanted buttons that warm his fingers.
    “Times like this I wish I had a favored god to pray to,” he whispers, watching his misty breath drift through the night. Checking the sky to get his bearings, General Vile takes another swig of the gin that Stephen was nice enough to let him keep. “Maybe one of you will see fit to guide my way and see me to the end of my mission. Then again, you know who I serve, so it might be best that we ignore each other.”
    *****
    Sari is admiring the magic dresses Nyx has made for her when a gentle knock at the door makes her smile. She lays the blue top and yellow skirt on the bed, fighting the temptation to put half of it on to greet her beloved guest. Instead, she settles for answering the door in her underwear and knee high boots of velvet and leather.
    “Hello, my-” she begins, freezing when she sees that it is not Luke in the hallway.
    “I’m sorry,” Delvin says, covering his eyes and turning away. “I wanted to talk to you about something and didn’t think you’d be changing.”
    “I was going to wear one of my new dresses,” Sari answers, leading him into the room by his elbow. She pulls his hands down, causing the warrior to blush. “Don’t be so bashful. I’m only in my underwear. I thought you were Luke coming to have a little fun before we lose our privacy.”
    Delvin clears his throat and adjusts his chainmail, shifting uncomfortably as the gypsy stares at him. “Luke is busy arguing with Nyx about the horses. She wants to ride his griffin form and he’s not agreeing. Timoran and Fizzle are trying to keep