Malve's eyes scanned the tent they've stolen from a servant like he's already imagining something pleasurable. Reeca clenched her fists behind him. This dirty excuse of a pixie.

A bedroll propped on a corner, two stools, and a low table void of belongings greeted them as Reeca let the tent's flap close as soon as she stepped inside. If she looked carefully, she could see Elred's form being reflected by the sun in the left side of the tent.

Reeca perched on one of the stools. "First question," she crossed her legs. "Where is the Heiress now?"

"What? You didn't know?" Malve knitted his eyebrows, blinked, then lightly slapped his forehead. "Oh, you just got back, I forgot," he smiled and waved his hand in the air. "She's here. She's usually in her study doing who knows what. We're never allowed there, as you well know. She rarely leaves, you know? She only does so when it's time to brief the army about something."

Reeca narrowed her eyes. Ah, yes. The army. The whole lot of them was stashed here, inside a rock in the middle of nowhere. Reeca and Elred, back when they're dressed as servants, had estimated a total of fifty thousand able forms in this camp, excluding the children who could possibly wield a weapon as well as any adult.

Reeca leaned back and propped her weight against her palms. "When's the next briefing going to be?"

Malve tapped his chin. "Not in another two days, I think," he shifted his weight from foot to foot. His boots clinked lightly against the compact soil. "She only has to tell us to march out now that the plan to take Dwanzeig is already in motion."

Reeca knitted her eyebrows. So Dwanzeig's their next move? Cardovia's bringing the whole army? Oh gods, this was bad. It might not be the information Reeca was seeking but it's news, nonetheless.

Malve shrugged when Reeca failed to reply. "It's not your problem to deal with," he crossed his arms and regarded Reeca up and down. "The Heiress was hoping for a quick surrender if she threatened to destroy their beloved nature-forest-things. It's not like those fanatics will be able to fight us especially if they didn't know we were coming."

Reeca forced herself to meet Malve in the eye, no matter how disgusted she was at him. "And you?" she cocked her head. "Are you going with them?"

"Marin will be taking the front in trying to convince the Royal family into giving us their throne just like she did with Cardina's," he shook his head while Reeca's insides churned hard enough to make it feel like it's boiling. Marin? Marin Draswist? What was that girl doing in Cardovia?

A chuckle made Reeca turn back to Malve who had a dreamy grin on his face. "That girl's got a lot of heat inside her, that much I'm sure," he clicked his tongue.

Disgusting.

Reeca hoped Malve would meet the Virtakios. Maybe Xanthy would incinerate him on the spot. That would be justice served well.

But attacking Dwanzeig? Destroying a forest just because it's on the way? Reeca bit her lip. This was beyond insane. Reeca exhaled and raked her gaze towards Malve again. "What do you know of the thrones?" she coughed into her fist.

Malve scratched his chin, staring at the empty air behind Reeca. "The Soul Spells had been brought last month" he leveled his gaze on her. "The Heiress was quite proud of you for that."

Reeca kept her face passive. Perhaps that's what Kymalin would do in this situation. "What about the others?" she waved her hand and shook her head. "I haven't been briefed about them."

"The torch and the diamond all have been brought here the past week."

Reeca narrowed her eyes to combat the surprise that blossomed in her gut. "Do you know where the Heiress keeps them?" she twined her fingers together as she leaned forward and braced her elbows over her thighs. "I want to visit my throne. Perhaps I could learn from it so that I can fight my mother the next time we meet."

"I've heard from the others that they're currently being stored in a cellar underneath us," Malve said, with an unblinking stare. "No one is supposed to find it and whoever attempts it will be killed on the spot no matter who they are."

Reeca raised an eyebrow. A cellar? How original. "Do you know anything more than that?"

Malve smiled. "That and the fact that the thrones can be found by their magical signatures," he tapped a finger against his temple. "Use your brains, Kym."

Reeca frowned. If the thrones could be found using their trails, then why bother hiding them at all when half the people here could take a peek in the trail dimension any time they wished?

Malve nodded before turning towards the exit. He paused to look back at Reeca. "I don't know who you are but I know that you're not Kymalin," he drew the tent flap up, letting the artificial rays of the sun outside stream inside the tent and turn the dark soil into a rich ocher. "Kym never referred to the High Priestess of Carleon as 'her mother' nor the Soul Spells as 'her throne'."

Oops. Reeca slid her hand into her pocket, her fingers brushing the hilt of a tiny knife. She'd hate making a mess of the place she's supposed to sleep later tonight.

"Whoever you are, I hope you have a valid reason for turning against the Heiress," Malve shook his head, stopping Reeca from drawing the knife fully. "I won't rat you out. Not when you know my secret. I wish you luck, though."

Before Reeca could reply, he ducked out of the tent and let the flap fall, drowning the tent back to its dim lighting. After a few minutes, a plain-looking banshee strode inside the tent and took the other stool next to Reeeca.

The air shimmered and the tall, pale-haired shard fairy took the place of the banshee. Elred whistled. "Now that's what I call an exit."

Elred's non-squeaky voice now sounded weird in Reeca's ears. Still, she frowned and turned to the shard fairy. "Have you made sure no one's listening before you talk like that?"

"Are you schooling me, girl?" Elred scoffed and crossed her arms. "I know what I'm doing."

Reeca reached up to brush her hair out of her face to find her hair back to its short strands. So she's herself again, huh? "Now what?"

After everything Reeca had learned from Malve, where would they even start? Elred's smile was menacing and not at all sane. "We raid the cellar."

Reeca knitted her eyebrows. "Do you already know where it is?" she jerked her chin at the tent's entrance where Malve had just been. "How do you even know he's telling the truth?"

"People don't want their secrets revealed by others," Elred rolled her shoulders and stretched with a groan. "You'll be amazed at the lengths they're willing to take to bury the things they want buried forever."

Reeca nodded. Elred sighed and pushed long strands of her hair away from her forehead. "The cellar's by the food table," she said. "While you're busy flirting with the pixie, I was listening to every footsteps in the hall. It hits differently whenever people step on a particular spot."

Reeca's jaw dropped. Impressive. Genius. Elred was definitely someone that shouldn't be trifled with. Reeca buried that feeling deep down and raised her eyebrows at the shard fairy. "Are you sure that it's the only cellar in this vast field?"

"I've worked for the most paranoid person, ever," Elred shook her head and drew lazy circles around the back of her hand. "I know how most of them think."

"And that is?"

Elred leaned forward. "That is," she extended a finger towards Reeca's direction. "They tend to hide their most prized possessions in somewhere not too accessible by people and not too obvious like that of a locked vault. They wanted to put them in common places but still be protected."

"And that's on the food table?" Reeca snorted and scratched the side of her face. "I'm sorry, but it doesn't make sense."

Elred's grin was undeterred. "Think about it," she splayed her fingers in both hands like she's plotting something. "Where is the food table located?"

"In the mess hall?"

"Exactly!" Elred snapped her fingers. "And who goes to the mess hall?"

Reeca shrugged. Just humor Elred. "Everyone?"

"Yes! Who doesn't go there?" Elred said.

"Uh...the Heiress?"

"That's what she wanted people to think," Elred tapped her chin once again. "Just because she isn't usually seen in the mess hall doesn't mean she's not going there. She lets everyone think that her tent is the most important place in here to trick the thieves into thinking that it's where the treasure lies."

Elred's eyes twinkled. "The soil is also out of the question. It's soft enough to allow easy anchoring for the tents and almost anyone could dig up a hole here. It's not in the armory either since anyone could just stumble into it while pilfering for a weapon."

"But in the mess hall,"Elred turned to Reeca. "No one thinks about weapons or thrones. No. All they were thinking about was food. Notice how much variety is offered there? It's supposed to take people's minds off anything except on choosing which type of fairy potion to drink."

"Why does no one suspect a cellar in the first place, you ask?"

Reeca pursed her lips. Uh.. not really. Elred didn't seem to read that action and plunged on. "The amount of foot traffic going there everyday as you have seen is astounding. Meal times are scheduled and the hall is locked when there's no feeding schedule. It would be too obvious when thieves dive for the cellar during the day with all the people eating there. During the night, it's locked again. Not to mention the patrol."

"So, the cellar is in the mess hall," Elred let her shoulders slump as she leaned back from her stool. She slammed a closed fist into her waiting palm. "We're going to get it tonight."

Reeca snorted. "Uh, how?"

Elred's scarlet eyes flashed like blood. "Do you still have that potion?"