The morning was cold and damp, the kind that clung to the skin and weighed on the soul. Alaric sat at the head of the war council table, his hand resting on the polished wood as he stared at the map spread before him. Kallix's capture had brought a temporary sense of victory, but it had also raised far more questions than answers.
Liliana was the first to break the silence, her voice sharp and clear. "We've stripped the smugglers of their weapons and interrogated the lower ranks. They claim to know nothing of the House of Verrin's involvement, only that they were hired to move supplies. The crates contained steel, weaponry, and an assortment of enchanted artifacts."
"That doesn't surprise me," Roran said, leaning back in his chair. "Kallix wouldn't trust grunts with the truth. He'd keep them in the dark to protect himself."
Edris nodded, his face grim. "But we can't ignore the scale of this operation. If the House of Verrin is arming itself, they're preparing for war. And if Kallix is their pawn, he's not the only one we need to worry about."
Alaric clenched his fists. "We need Kallix to talk. He knows who's behind this, and we can't afford to wait. Has he said anything yet?"
Liliana shook her head. "Not a word. He's as tight-lipped as they come. Standard methods of persuasion haven't worked."
"I'll speak to him myself," Alaric declared, rising from his chair.
Liliana's eyebrows shot up. "You? Personally?"
"Yes," Alaric replied, his tone firm. "This conspiracy is aimed at the throne. If Kallix believes I'm desperate enough, he might slip. And if not, I'll at least learn what kind of man we're dealing with."
---
The dungeons were damp and dimly lit, the air heavy with the smell of mildew and despair. Alaric descended the spiral staircase, his boots echoing off the stone walls. Roran followed close behind, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.
"Are you sure about this?" Roran asked.
"I am," Alaric replied. "But stay close. I'll need your instincts if he tries anything."
When they reached Kallix's cell, the smuggler was seated on the floor, his back against the cold stone wall. His shoulder was bandaged, but the injury didn't seem to bother him. He looked up as they approached, a sly grin spreading across his face.
"Well, well," Kallix drawled. "If it isn't the prince himself. To what do I owe the honor?"
Alaric stepped closer, his gaze steady. "You're going to tell me everything you know about the House of Verrin."
Kallix chuckled, the sound low and mocking. "And why would I do that?"
"Because your life depends on it," Alaric said evenly. "You've been caught smuggling weapons and conspiring against the crown. The punishment for treason is death."
"And if I talk?" Kallix asked, his tone dripping with skepticism.
"You might earn yourself a lighter sentence," Alaric replied. "But that depends on how useful your information is."
Kallix's grin widened. "You're bluffing, prince. You need me alive. Otherwise, you'd have nothing to go on."
Alaric stepped closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Don't mistake mercy for weakness. If you won't talk, I'll make sure your time here is very unpleasant."
For a moment, Kallix's confidence faltered, his grin slipping. But he quickly recovered, leaning back against the wall.
"You think you're in control," he said, his eyes glinting with defiance. "But you're just a pawn in a game you don't understand. Verrin doesn't need me. They've got eyes and ears everywhere, even within your precious palace."
Alaric froze, his mind racing. "What do you mean?"
Kallix smirked. "Figure it out, prince. You're smart enough."
Alaric turned to Roran, his expression grim. "He's stalling. Let's go."
As they left the cell, Kallix's voice followed them. "You'll regret underestimating them, prince. Mark my words."
---
Back in the council chamber, Alaric relayed Kallix's cryptic warning.
"Do you believe him?" Edris asked, his brow furrowed.
"I don't know," Alaric admitted. "But we can't ignore the possibility. If Verrin has spies in the palace, we need to root them out before they do any more damage."
Liliana nodded. "Agreed. But it won't be easy. Verrin's agents are skilled at hiding in plain sight."
"Then we start with the people closest to Kallix," Alaric said. "Anyone who's had contact with him in the past year is a suspect."
"I'll oversee the investigations personally," Liliana offered. "But we'll need to move quickly. If Kallix's associates catch wind of this, they'll disappear."
Alaric nodded. "Do whatever it takes. In the meantime, we need to prepare for Verrin's next move. They won't stay quiet for long."
---
That night, Alaric found himself unable to sleep. He paced his chambers, his mind racing with questions. Who in the palace could be working for Verrin? And what were they planning next?
A soft knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.
"Enter," he called.
Liliana stepped inside, her expression serious. "I thought you'd still be awake."
Alaric gestured for her to sit. "What is it?"
"I've been thinking about Kallix's warning," she said, taking a seat by the fire. "If Verrin does have spies here, they're likely feeding information back to their leaders. We need to cut off that line of communication."
"How?" Alaric asked.
Liliana hesitated, then pulled a small, intricately carved box from her satchel. "With this."
Alaric leaned forward, studying the box. "What is it?"
"An enchanted listening device," Liliana explained. "It can capture conversations within a certain radius. If we place it in strategic locations, we might be able to identify Verrin's agents."
Alaric frowned. "That's risky. If anyone discovers it, they'll know we're onto them."
"It's a risk we have to take," Liliana said firmly. "Otherwise, we're fighting blind."
Alaric considered her words, then nodded. "Do it. But be careful. If Verrin suspects anything, they'll retaliate."
Liliana stood, her expression resolute. "I'll make sure they don't. Trust me, Your Highness."
---
The days that followed were tense. Liliana and her team worked in secret, placing the enchanted devices throughout the palace. Meanwhile, Alaric focused on strengthening the kingdom's defenses and preparing for the inevitable confrontation with Verrin.
One evening, as Alaric reviewed reports in his study, Roran burst in, his face pale.
"What is it?" Alaric asked, rising to his feet.
"We've intercepted a message," Roran said, handing him a piece of parchment. "It's coded, but our analysts believe it's from one of Verrin's agents."
Alaric scanned the message, his heart sinking. It was brief but chilling in its implications: "The shipment was a success. Phase two begins at dawn."
"What does it mean?" Alaric asked, his voice tight.
Roran shook his head. "We don't know. But if phase two begins at dawn, we're running out of time."
Alaric clenched his fists. "Alert the council. We need to be ready for whatever's coming."
---
As the first light of dawn broke over the horizon, the palace was a hive of activity. Soldiers patrolled the halls, their eyes scanning for any signs of trouble. Alaric stood on the battlements, his gaze fixed on the city below.
The calm was deceptive. He could feel it in his bones—the storm was coming.
And when it did, Alaric vowed, he would be ready.