Kaelith’s POV)
Carlos stepped closer, eyes burning like coals. “You said you’d help me find Ragnar.”
“Did I?” Kaelith blinked, feigning innocence. “That doesn’t sound like me. I don’t help. I offer selective guidance to those I find aesthetically pleasing.”
Mallum smirked. “Translation: he’ll help if it makes him look good.”
Carlos’ voice dropped an octave. “You owe me.”
Kaelith’s grin twitched, cracked, then reformed, glittering with danger. “Fine. Let’s find your precious Dark Prince.”
He clapped once. “Ragnar isn’t hard to locate. He’s drawn to chaos. To places loud enough to drown a scream. And I happen to know one such spot.”
Mallum perked up. “Oh! Is it the one with the fire dancers or the one with the girl who juggles knives?”
“The one with the band, darling,” Kaelith said.
