Chapter 144 Gerrit's Slip
The council chamber was cold despite the roaring fire. Winter pressed against the windows, frost creeping across the glass in delicate patterns. Inside, tension ran thick as council members gathered around the long table.
Adrian sat at the head, his expression carved from stone. To his right sat Marcus, to his left Keal. The rest of the council filled the remaining seats, including Lord Thorne, Councilor Brennan, and several regional governors.
And Gerrit.
The weapon master had been released from the dungeons two days prior. Not for lack of evidence, but because Adrian needed him where he could be watched. Aria had confessed under interrogation, but her knowledge was limited. She'd been a tool, not a conspirator. Gerrit was different. Gerrit knew things. Adrian could see it in the man's carefully neutral expression.
"We're here to discuss the continued creature attacks in the northern territories," Adrian began. "Commander Marcus has the latest reports."
Marcus stood, unrolling a map across the table. Red marks indicated attack sites. There were dozens, concentrated in three specific regions.
"The attacks have increased in frequency over the past month. Seventeen confirmed incidents. Twenty-three deaths. The creatures are becoming bolder, attacking closer to populated areas." Marcus's finger traced the pattern. "But there's a consistency to their behavior that suggests coordination, not random mutation."
"Coordination?" Lord Thorne's voice dripped skepticism. "You're suggesting these beasts are being controlled?"
"I'm suggesting they're being created and deployed strategically." Marcus looked to Keal. "Delta Keal has findings that support this theory."
Keal stood, adjusting his glasses. "I've examined tissue samples from six different creatures. All show identical chemical markers. The compound used to induce their transformation is sophisticated, requiring extensive knowledge of wolf physiology and alchemical processes."
He pulled out several vials, setting them on the table. The dark liquid inside caught the firelight.
"This is the base compound. A mixture of wolfsbane extract, nightshade distillate, and a third component I've identified as distilled moonflower essence. The proportions are precise. Too precise to be accidental."
"What does this tell us?" Adrian's voice was controlled, but his eyes tracked Gerrit's reaction.
"It tells us someone with master-level alchemical knowledge created these creatures deliberately. Someone with access to rare ingredients. Someone who's been perfecting this formula for years." Keal's gaze swept the room. "This isn't amateur work. Whoever made this has dedicated significant time and resources to its development."
Gerrit leaned forward, studying the vials. His expression remained neutral, mildly interested. "The moonflower essence is particularly clever. It amplifies the wolfsbane's effect on the transformation process while counteracting the lethal properties of the nightshade. Keeps the subject alive longer, more functional."
The room went silent.
Gerrit seemed to realize his mistake. His expression didn't change, but something flickered in his eyes. Too late to take it back. Too late to pretend he hadn't just revealed knowledge he shouldn't possess.
"And how," Keal said quietly, "would you know that, Master Gerrit?"
"Professional knowledge. I work with chemicals daily in my forge." Gerrit's voice stayed smooth. "Understanding compounds and their interactions is part of my craft."
"Weapon crafting doesn't require knowledge of moonflower essence's interaction with wolfsbane." Marcus's hand moved to rest on the table, casual but ready. "That's specialized alchemical knowledge. Healing arts, potion making. Not metallurgy."
"I read broadly. Educated myself beyond my primary trade."
"Show me." Adrian's command cut through the tension. "These books you read. The sources of this specialized knowledge. I want to see them."
Gerrit's jaw tightened fractionally. "Your Majesty, I don't keep a library. I've simply accumulated knowledge over the years through various sources."
"Convenient." Adrian's eyes had gone cold. "You've spent decades at this palace. Decades crafting weapons, maintaining armory, working with metals and heat. And somehow, in all that time, you also became an expert in rare alchemical compounds used specifically for corrupting wolf transformations."
"I merely recognized—"
"You recognized the specific mechanism by which moonflower essence counteracts nightshade toxicity while amplifying wolfsbane's transformative properties." Keal's voice was razor-sharp now. "That's not general knowledge, Master Gerrit. That's intimate familiarity with the compound's creation process."
The other council members shifted uncomfortably. Lord Thorne looked between Gerrit and the King, calculation in his eyes.
"Perhaps," Councilor Brennan suggested carefully, "Master Gerrit encountered similar compounds during his work? Weapons sometimes require chemical treatments—"
"Nothing I've ever used in weapon crafting shares these properties." Gerrit's voice had gone hard. "And I resent the implication that I'm somehow involved in creating these abominations."
"No one has accused you of anything," Adrian said. "Yet. But you will explain how you possess such specific knowledge about compounds you claim never to have worked with."
Gerrit was trapped. Every face in the room watched him. Marcus's hand had moved closer to his sword, the motion subtle but clear. Keal stood with deceptive casualness, blocking the nearest exit.
"I studied alchemy in my youth." The words came out reluctant. "Before I became a weapon master. I apprenticed briefly with a scholar who specialized in transformation magic and its chemical components."
"Which scholar?" Keal demanded.
"He's dead. Died twenty years ago. There's no way to verify."
"How convenient." Marcus's voice was flat. "And this scholar, who died conveniently long ago, taught you specifically about corrupting wolf transformations? That was his specialty?"
"He studied all aspects of transformation. It was academic interest."
"Academic." Adrian stood slowly. The temperature in the room dropped. "Marcus, Keal. Take Master Gerrit to a holding room. Not the dungeons. Somewhere comfortable. But he doesn't leave. Not until we've verified his story. Every detail."
"Your Majesty, this is unnecessary—"
"Commander Marcus. Now."
Marcus moved with practiced efficiency. Two guards materialized from the corners. Gerrit stood, his face carefully neutral, but his hands clenched into fists.
"I am a loyal servant of this crown. I've served faithfully for thirty years."
"Then you have nothing to fear from verification." Adrian's eyes were ice. "If your story is true, you'll be released with apologies. If it's not..."
He let the threat hang unfinished.
Gerrit walked from the room flanked by guards. Marcus followed, his hand still resting on his sword hilt.
Keal remained, gathering his samples. The other council members erupted in whispers the moment the door closed.
Adrian silenced them with a raised hand. "This meeting is concluded. You're all dismissed. Except you, Delta Keal."
The room cleared quickly. Only Adrian and Keal remained.
"He made a mistake," Keal said immediately. "A significant one. Someone with his supposed background would never have known about the moonflower essence interaction. That's specific to this compound. I only identified it myself after weeks of intensive analysis."
"Can you prove he created it?"
"Not yet. But I can prove he has intimate knowledge of its creation. That's a start." Keal cleaned his glasses, thinking. "We need to search his workshop thoroughly. And his living quarters. If he's been creating these compounds, there will be evidence. Traces. Notes. Equipment."
"Do it. Tonight. Take whatever men you need. Turn his workshop inside out." Adrian moved to the window, staring at the frost patterns. "And Keal? Be thorough. If Gerrit is behind the creatures, if he's connected to Celeste's death, to Lila's memory alteration, I want every piece of evidence found."
"What if we don't find enough? What if he's been careful?"
"Then we make him talk." Adrian's voice went dark. "Whatever it takes. I'm done playing games. Someone has spent four years terrorizing my kingdom and torturing my mate. That ends now."
Keal nodded and left to organize the search. Adrian remained at the window, his hands clenched behind his back.
Gerrit had made a mistake. Finally. After years of careful planning, after layers of deception, he'd slipped. Revealed knowledge he shouldn't possess.
It wasn't proof. Not yet. But it was the crack Adrian had been waiting for.
And cracks could be exploited. Widened. Used to shatter whatever was hidden beneath.
\---
Elsewhere in the palace, Gerrit sat in a comfortable holding room. Not a cell, but close enough. Guards stood outside. Windows were barred.
He'd been careless. Allowed his pride in the work to override his caution. The moonflower essence interaction was elegant, his finest innovation. And he'd been unable to resist commenting on its cleverness.
Stupid. After years of careful planning, undone by a moment of academic vanity.
But all wasn't lost. His workshop had been thoroughly cleaned two days ago when they'd arrested Aria. The truly incriminating evidence was hidden elsewhere, buried in the lower city where no one would think to look.
The samples they'd find in his workshop would prove nothing. Chemical residue from legitimate weapon crafting. Notes about metallurgy and forge temperatures. Nothing connecting him to the creatures or the memory spells.
Gerrit settled into the chair, forcing his body to relax. He'd weathered suspicion before. He'd weather it again.
Unless they found his real laboratory. Unless they discovered the journals. Unless Lila's memories continued returning and she identified him as the shadow in her nightmares.
Too many variables. Too many ways this could unravel.
He needed a contingency plan. Something to distract them, to buy time, to eliminate the biggest threat.
Lila.
If she continued remembering, if her memories clarified enough to identify him, everything would fall apart. Years of work. Years of careful planning. All destroyed by one girl's recovered memories.
He couldn't allow that.
Gerrit's hands clenched on the chair arms. He'd killed before. Celeste. The scholars who'd gotten too close to the truth. His own mentor when the old man had threatened to expose him.
One more death. Just one more. And his secrets would be safe.
But Lila was protected now. Guards shadowed her constantly. Adrian watched her with possessive intensity. Getting close enough to kill her would be nearly impossible.
Nearly.
But Gerrit hadn't survived this long by giving up when things got difficult.
He had resources. Allies. People who owed him favors or feared him enough to act.
One of them would get to Lila. One way or another.
And when she was dead, when the one witness who could identify him was silenced, he'd find a way to escape this holding room. This palace. This kingdom.
He'd done it before, disappeared and reinvented himself. He could do it again.
All he needed was time. And one dead girl who'd remembered too much.
In his study, staring at Theo's drawing of three figures holding hands, Adrian felt a chill run down his spine.
Something was wrong. He could feel it through the bond. Lila wasn't in immediate danger, but danger circled close.
He sent for more guards. Doubled her protection. Ordered that she not be alone even for a moment.
Because Gerrit's slip had been too convenient. Too perfectly timed. And men who made mistakes when cornered often became desperate.
And desperate men were the most dangerous kind.