The Red Ghost had already instantly dissolved into mist, vanishing from sight, though Norvin could still feel the cold pricking of her presence against his skin.
Norvin looked up.
Standing outside the cell, illuminated by the torchlight, was a knight. He wore the golden armour of the Kvothe Kingdom, polished to a dull sheen. His helmet was removed, held under one arm, revealing a face that made Norvin's breath catch in his throat.
The man had sharp features, a neatly trimmed beard, and eyes that were the colour of steel. There was something terrifyingly familiar about him. The set of his jaw, the way he held himself... it sparked a memory in the back of Norvin's mind, like a word on the tip of his tongue that he couldn't quite speak. He looked like someone Norvin knew, or perhaps someone Norvin had seen in a painting, but the connection remained just out of reach.
"You are awake," the knight said. His voice was calm, authoritative, and devoid of the cruelty Norvin expected. "I was beginning to think that kid, Cahir or whatever his name is, had snapped your neck by accident."
Norvin tried to stand, to face his captor with some semblance of dignity, but his legs wobbled. He stayed seated, glaring up at the man.
"Who are you?" Norvin demanded.
"I am Gareth," the knight replied smoothly. "Knight of the Dragon Guards of Bronze Falchion. And you... you are the little mouse the Serpent's Maw sent to bite the heels of giants."
Gareth reached into a pouch at his belt and pulled out a small glass vial.
Norvin's blood ran cold. It was the poison. The vial Mat had given him.
"We found this on you," Gareth said, holding the vial up to the torchlight. The liquid inside glowed with a sickly purple hue. "Along with a very interesting map."
"I..." Norvin's throat went dry. "I failed. Go on. Mock me. I failed to kill your beasts."
Gareth stared at Norvin for a long moment, and then, surprisingly, he laughed. It was a dry, harsh bark of a laugh.
"Kill them?" Gareth shook his head, looking at Norvin with a mixture of pity and amusement. "Is that what they told you? Is that what your masters in the Roric Kingdom said this was?"
Norvin frowned.
"Boy," Gareth stepped closer to the bars, his face illuminated by the flickering fire. "You have been lied to. This is not a poison. This is Blood-Haze Extract."
The world seemed to tilt on its axis. "Blood... Haze?"
"It is a stimulant," Gareth explained, his voice low and dangerous. "If you had poured this into the feeding troughs of the dragons, it wouldn't have killed them. It would have driven them mad. It burns away their higher consciousness. It turns noble, ancient guardians into mindless, rampaging monsters."
Norvin stared at the vial, horror dawning on him.
"If you had succeeded," Gareth continued, his eyes boring into Norvin's, "the Dragons would not have died peacefully in their sleep. They would have woken up in a frenzy. They would have turned on their handlers. They would have burned the inner city of Ruxwax to ash. They would have slaughtered thousands of our civilians—women, children, the elderly—in a blind rage before we could have put them down."
Norvin felt sick. Bile rose in his throat.
"No..." Norvin whispered. 'Mat said... Remus said it was a tactical strike. To remove the defences.'
"Your Captain," Gareth sneered, the name dripping with venom, "Thane Caldaron... he didn't want to remove our defences. He wanted to turn our dragons against us. He wanted to create a massacre so chaotic that his army could walk through the ashes without lifting a sword. He tried to make you the trigger, boy."
Gareth said coldly. "You carried the weapon. You entered our lands. You killed one of our scouts in the forest."
"He tried to kill me first!" Norvin shouted, a spark of defiance returning.
"He was doing his duty!" Gareth roared, slamming his gauntleted fist against the iron bars. The sound rang through the dungeon like a bell toll. "Just as I am doing mine."
Gareth unlocked the cell door with a heavy iron key. The hinges screamed as the door swung open. He stepped inside, the small space suddenly feeling suffocatingly small with his presence.
Norvin tried to scramble back, but there was nowhere to go.
Gareth loomed over him, looking down with those steel-grey eyes that felt so hauntingly familiar.
"You are a child," Gareth said softly, almost to himself. "A child serving monsters. It is a tragedy."
"Then let me go," Norvin pleaded. "I won't come back. I'll leave the war."
"You know I cannot do that," Gareth said. He reached down. "And I don't want to do that either"
Norvin flinched, expecting a weapon.
Instead, Gareth's fist shot out.
It was a short, controlled strike, but it carried the weight of a sledgehammer. It connected squarely with Norvin's jaw.
CRACK.
Norvin's head snapped back, hitting the brick wall with a sickening thud. Stars exploded in his vision, and the taste of copper flooded his mouth. He crumpled to the dirty straw, gasping for air, clutching his face.
"That," Gareth said, standing over him, rubbing his knuckles, "is for the scout you killed. Be grateful I am a man of honour."
Gareth stepped back out of the cell and slammed the door shut, locking it with a heavy clank.
"Rest, filthy mouse," Gareth said through the bars. "Your interrogation begins properly tomorrow. Pray that your Captain cares enough to negotiate for your life. Though, knowing the Rustle of the Demonic Axe, I wouldn't hold my breath."
With a swirl of his grey cloak, Gareth turned and marched down the hallway, his footsteps fading into the darkness.
For a long time, Norvin lay in the dirt, the throbbing in his jaw matching the pounding of his heart. He spat out a mouthful of blood.
"Every time..." Norvin wheezed, staring at the ceiling. "Every time you appear... something bad happens to me."
The red mist swirled in the corner again, forming the Ghost. She looked down at him, her faceless head tilted.
"That's rude," she said softly. "You should consider me a warning."
"He tricked me," Norvin whispered, tears stinging his eyes*. "Thane. Mat. They all knew. They sent me to burn a city."*
Norvin huddled in the corner of his freezing cell, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. The blood on his hands was imaginary, but the guilt was heavy and real. He had killed a man today—a guard—but it was supposed to be so much worse.
Thane had given him the vial. Blood Haze Extract.
Now, the weight of what he almost did crushed him.
"Why?" Norvin whispered to the damp walls, wiping sweat from his brow. "You have no obligation to help me. I'm just a slave."
The Red Ghost materialized near the bars. She looked tired, her red glow dim.
Norvin looked up, trembling. "How did you know?"
"I know the smell of sulfur and madness," she replied, her voice devoid of emotion. "I know the alchemy of war, Norvin. I know the exact geometry of killing."
She looked down toward the floor, as if seeing through the stone to the deep abyss where her real body lay.
"Why do you think they keep me in the lowest floor? Why bind me with seals meant for gods?" She looked back at him. "It is not just because I am strong. It is because I know too much. That is why I am here."
"Why stop me from pouring the Blood Haze?"
"I stopped you because I saw your hand trembling. Because it seemed you didn't want to do it," she said gently. "And Thane didn't tell you the truth. I didn't want you to do something irrational that you would regret."
"Why are you helping me then?"
The red Ghost looked at him like a mother looking at her son. She placed her hand gently over Norvin's head, patting him.
"I have watched thousands of men rot. They all turn into beasts eventually. They all let the hate consume them. But you... you hesitated. You are the first spark of light I have seen in a thousand years. I don't want you to become a beast, filled with hatred and malice."
"I am too deep in the abyss to ever see the sun again. I have been in chains for a long time," she whispered. "I don't mind dying in them now."
Norvin froze.