Hell Tide: Spies

"Should we not wake them?" Amilia asked beside the dinner table, surrounded by servants that Lord Edwin kindly offered. Filling the chairs around the table stood a great many, with Fat Mike and Hilda stationed on her left and right. 

"To do what?" Cedric asked, piercing his fork into a sausage. "Kill? The demons are still reeling after Mike's spell, as far as I care. He can sleep all he wants." He lifted a tray of eggs and passed it down to Laros and Olivia. "What I'm interested in is figuring out what this mission of ours is." 

"More reason for us to wake Altair." Fat Mike said, swallowing an entire strip of steak. He looked nearly human now. Handsome even, with over three hundred pounds shredded from his face. A price he no doubt paid for casting a tier six spell. It had been no easy feat conjuring such magic. The toll it had taken had been massive. "I figure he's already figured out our mission." 

"And you'd be right."