Chapter Fifty-Two
Someone nudged Faust awake, and he opened his eyes groggily. He was pressed against Aris’s chest, but Ignas’s warmth wasn’t far.
Ignas peered out the back of the wagon, a hand on one gun.
Faust moved away from Aris, taking the hint when Aris shifted to grab the hilt of his sword. Faust slipped his glasses back on and listened. Faust reached for his own blade, but Aris put a finger to his lips.
Faust stopped and secured his hood as the conversation outside the wagon grew louder.
“Lord Clare has already arrived. Your arrival is not on the schedule, I cannot grant you entrance,” a guard insisted.
“I am a member of the Guild of Masters. I was instructed to bring these goods here for Lord Clare. He was to show them to Prince Nik this afternoon.”
“That medallion has no merit at the gates if you are not Lord Clare himself.”
Faust rolled his eyes. If Terence was let in here, naturally he had negotiated terms for his merchants to drop off goods.
“Hold it!” Relan’s voice bellowed. “That merchant was forced to transport a wanted merchant to the gate. He’s wanted by His Excellency Lathil.”
The guard growled. “What is the meaning of this? Are you trying to endanger Prince Nik?”
“I would never do such a thing,” the merchant replied. “The merchant he is referring to is Lord Arcus, and he is a respected member of the Guild of Masters.”
This guard behaved differently from the guards in Limorous. How odd. Faust touched Aris’s arm and whispered, “Don’t fight with the guard. I think his intentions are pure and he is trying to protect my brother.”
“He is,” Ignas whispered. “This city isn’t like Limorous.” Harsh steps came to the edge of the wagon, the cloth thrown back, and a sword pointed at Ignas’s face.
Faust gripped the hilt of the dagger under his cloak, hot rage surging through him, but Aris subtly moved to stop him from moving forward.
Relan’s eyes narrowed. “Get out of the wagon.”
Ignas jumped out of the wagon but turned back to help Faust, and Faust crouched closer to the edge of the wagon, keeping his head down. Ignas gathered him in his arms and hovered enough to keep Faust’s face from being seen.
Aris stepped down last, defiant.
Relan paid Aris no mind and walked straight toward Faust, but Ignas moved back with Faust, holding him close, and looked to Aris. Aris stood between Ignas and Relan, as tall as his short stature would allow.
“Hand that lord over,” Relan ordered.
“No,” Aris said and drew his sword.
The guard put his sword to Ignas’s neck. “Remove the lord’s hood. We will not allow any harm to come to our prince.” He huffed when his order was ignored and went to remove Faust’s hood himself.
Ignas raised his gun to retaliate, but Faust caught Ignas’s wrist in a vice grip. Faust didn’t look at him, but Ignas understood the order well enough. Faust ducked, moving back. Ignas followed. He wasn’t about to reveal his presence just yet.
“There will be little reasoning with these criminals,” Relan decided and drew his blade. He bent his knees and launched at Aris.
Aris guarded. “Well then, why don’t we finish what we started in the arena, old man. I won’t hold back this time.”
Relan snarled and clashed with Aris. He threw his weight into his attacks, cursing Aris’s lighter build. Aris jumped around Relan, but he parried with Aris time after time. Relan thrust his sword and sent green blades of magic at Aris.
Aris let his sky stones spark, and wind blades collided with green in explosions of air. He hopped around and sent more wind blades at the Blessed, grinning.
Relan tapped one boot on the ground, and his armor lit up as he took to the sky.
Aris spread his arms, the wind howled and spiraled around Relan, stalling him in place. Aris’s eyes grew dark, and he snapped his fingers.
The armor fell silent, and Aris let Relan fall.
The Blessed yelped and rolled into his fall. Relan sprung to his feet and tapped his foot again, but the power was gone just as it was back in the arena.
Relan charged Aris with a yell.
Aris adjusted his stance and let himself fall back to kick Relan in the chest but took a hit of his own. Aris sailed to the ground and rolled back to his feet. He swung his sword around to parry, their blades echoing in the open courtyard. Aris’s sky stones flickered once more, magic surging around the deity, his aura brightening right along with it.
Sharp pain spiked through Faust’s chest. He faltered in his steps to dodge the guard, his eyes on Aris. Ignas gathered Faust in his arms, and Faust buried his face in the mercenary’s shoulder, his breathing growing rapid. This happened last time. He didn’t understand what this pain meant. Did he need to help Aris? He lifted one hand with a wince and grasped at some of the natural magic, but Ignas’s arm tightened on him, warmth flooding Faust with such intensity, he lost his concentration.
“Let him fight. He has it handled,” Ignas growled.
Faust wanted to believe Ignas, but Ignas looked just as worried with the sweat rolling down the side of his face and the crease in his brow.
Relan charged Aris again, the blade singing with fire. The Blessed closed his eyes in concentration, and the sword burned bright. He slashed and forced Aris to stumble backward. Relan took the opportunity and turned in haste to Faust and Ignas. He lunged.
Aris snarled, the wind spiraling, a loud rush accompanying it. He moved with the wind in front of Relan, his sky stone a blinding white spark, and sliced.
Relan fumbled back to his feet as his sword and armor cracked in half.
“Stay away from my High King, Blessed,” Aris sneered and struck his blade to the side. It flashed a brilliant blue, and sky-blue blades of magic raced toward Relan, cutting into Relan’s skin. The Blessed hit the wall with a bang, slumping into unconsciousness. Aris exhaled, the sky blue on his sword fading.
“What are you?” the guard squeaked, no longer attempting to grab Faust.
Aris didn’t answer and sheathed his blade. He gathered his stones and examined one. It crumbled in his palm, useless.
Ignas set Faust on his feet and checked him for injury.
Faust took a steady breath, the pain in his chest fading. He put up his hand. “I am fine,” he said. “Aris,” he called.
Aris skipped to Faust with a radiant smile. “We should probably tie him up good, or he’ll get away.”
“Thank you, my brave knight.”
Aris stood proud.
Rapid footsteps approached, and Nik entered the courtyard with Mika and Terrence flanking him, exasperated. He surveyed the situation and gasped.
Faust waved.
Terrence walked over to his merchant. “Good work.” He handed over a pouch of gold. “A small bonus. I expect to see our goods completed within the month.”
The merchant grinned. “Yes, sir.”
Faust strolled over to his brother as the merchant drove his wagon off the mansion property.
Nik eyed Faust.
“Prince Nik,” the guard began.
“You may return to your post, all is well here,” Nik said in haste. “This man is welcome here as if he were me. Round up some of your friends and see that Relan is chained and locked in place in the dungeon. Station stone users there as well. He cannot escape. Am I clear?”