Chapter Text
"On the one hand, you should be proud, Officer Dain," the Shadow Lord sneered through the communication crystal.
The communication crystal was not truly a crystal, but rather a thick, curved glass set into the top of a small, wooden table. The speaker was thus forced to lean over in order to speak to whoever was on the other side. A position which could get quite uncomfortable during long conversations, but such discomfort was easily worth the honor of using it. Speaking to the Master directly in this way was a rare privilege; most only received their orders indirectly from those higher up in the chain of command.
A privilege that a supposedly low-ranking Shadow Guard officer like Dain ought never to even dream of. Of course, Dain wasn't really a Shadow Guard officer; that was just his cover. But judging by the Master's mood, Dain suspected he could be in for a demotion; that cover might well become the truth if he wasn't careful.
"Yesterday," the Shadow Lord continued, "You managed to find that which has eluded us these past few years. The last three gems of that accursed Belt."
Dain blinked in confusion. The last three gems of the Belt? No. No, that was impossible.
On occasion, a would-be rebel would claim to have the Belt, or at least part of it. Upon investigation by the Shadow Guard, these claims always proved to be false, and the would-be rebels were promptly executed.
The real Belt of Deltora did technically exist, of course. In the sense that Sharn and her cronies held the physical Belt created by Adin all those hundreds of years ago. And four of its gems; the diamond, the topaz, the emerald, and the lapis lazuli. But it had taken all seven of the tribal talismans to defeat the Master that first time, so the hag had no choice but to hole up in the city of Tora like a coward.
"I...I don't understand," Dain stammered, gripping the sides of the table. "I...I haven't seen any-"
"As well you shouldn't," the Shadow Lord growled, red eyes blazing with fury. "Because you let them slip out of your grasp, without even knowing."
Fuck. Someone had set Dain up; that was the only explanation. Was it Kirsten? Rolf? No, those idiots still thought Dain was human. Besides, they could never achieve the necessary privileges in their wildest daydreams. Same with Thaegan, even if she was trying to take Dain's position. Or, rather, what she believed to be Dain's position.
No, it was probably Fallow. Yes, that made sense. That drug-addled fool was one of the few people who knew what Dain really was. That Dain was tasked with rooting out treason in the Master's ranks. Naturally, given the miserable failure that Fallow was-especially when it came to governing Del-he had every reason to whisper poison in the Master's ear.
"Master," Dain insisted, putting his hands up in an appeasing gesture, "Whatever you've been told-"
"I saw it myself, fool," the Shadow Lord snarled. "That urchin you met yesterday. I was watching. He has the missing gems."
Sven? No. No, it couldn't be.
But then Dain remembered the pink jewel that had fallen out of the thin, pale boy's clothes. The minute Dain saw it, he'd felt a strange pain throughout his body, coupled with an instinctual desire to recoil from it. It had almost been like...like the jewel had been trying to hurt him, somehow. The jewel and whatever lay in Sven's ratty old knapsack.
"He's...he's..." Dain sputtered, unable to believe the truth even as he realized it. "How could he possibly have the other three gems?"
"The boy may have stolen them," the Shadow Lord seethed. "Or someone might have gifted them to him, out of pity. More likely he is working for that accursed queen."
Dain frowned. He doubted that poor, frightened Sven had anything to do with Sharn. He seemed too desperate, too sincere in his obedience for it. But Dain knew full well that the appearance of sincerity was a very different thing from the actual truth. Sven might well be the most masterful liar that ever existed. But still...
"I do not think it wise to assume Sven is a rebel, Master," Dain mused. "If we assume he is bringing the gems to Sharn when no such plan exists, there is a good chance Sven will become her courier out of spite."
"You fool!" the Shadow Lord spat. "It does not matter whether the urchin is innocent or not. If he brings the last three gems to Tora, it is over!"
An image suddenly came to Dain's mind of thin, raggedy Sven handing the queen his knapsack of gems, followed by the queen taking them and using a smith's hammer to insert them into a steel belt. All while the queen was dressed in royal regalia. The idea felt so ridiculous Dain couldn't help but scoff.
"King Endon is dead," he insisted. "So is his son. Who could wear the Belt even if it was repaired?"
Because only a member of Adin's bloodline could wear the Belt, and, in doing so, banish the Master's armies from Deltora.
The Shadow Lord fixed Dain with such a glower, it seemed that he wished to kill Dain by thinking it. And who knew-maybe the Master could kill Dain with a thought. The Shadow Lord was a powerful being; a master of magic, to whom thousands of years were nothing.
"Adin had five children," the Shadow Lord pointed out, contempt dripping from every word. "Five. We have eliminated the bloodline of but one. No doubt the other four have descendants somewhere, just waiting for our enemies to find them."
The Shadow Lord's nostrils flared.
"You will atone for your idiocy, Officer Dain, by finding this urchin, and those gems of his. If he gives them to you willingly, all the better. Offer him a position in the Shadow Guard and a place to stay. If not, kill him, take the gems, and bring them to me."
Dain nodded, hastily kneeling before the table and placing his right arm over his chest.
"It shall be done, Master. "