The Dragon Hunter and the Mage (48 page)

“Well, what do you want us to do, drag the idiot behind us?” Sabium snapped. “We did our part. If he wants to get himself killed, there’s nothing we can do to stop him.”

“I’m not about to jus
t‒
”

Sabium’s hand abruptly moved to cover his mouth, muffling his words.

“No one makes a sound,” the Mage whispered. He sent his brother a worried look. “They’re here.”

A blast came from the door, the wood cracking as splinters flew inward, peppering over them.

“In the name of Tarsus the Fifth,” a voice yelled, “lay down on the ground!”

Fadan forgot how to breathe. The goat shaped tip of a battering ram was sticking out through the warehouse’s front door. He saw it retreating, readying to be swung for another hit. Before it had time to do so, a powerful blue glow shimmered around Sabium as he let go of Fadan. The Mage sent his palms up as if he was lifting something very heavy, and as he did, the entire wall containing the front door burst into flames.

Screams from outside filled the air.

Sabium turned to his brother. “Get us out of here,” he yelled.

Alman was staring at the fire, his eyes wide. “This way,” he finally said, fleeing behind a pile of containers, Fadan and Sabium fast on his heels.

Venia hurried into the large, abandoned manor, closing the door behind her without a sound. With the scarce light of day coming through the cracks of boarded windows, the mansion’s state of decay was even more obvious. Dark blotches of mildew covered the ceiling while loose floor boards were spread across the corridors like booby traps.

The floor was covered in a blanket of dust that lifted around her in tiny puffs with her every step. Whistles of wind crisscrossed the hallways, highlighting the eerie silence of the place. If the Prince was here, he was being very quiet.

Just like the previous time, when she had discovered the burning book, Venia climbed the steps to the attic, making sure the creaky floor did not give away her presence. Once again, the room was empty. The bucket was still in the same place, but the burning smell was gone.

Where are you, your majesty?
Venia wondered.

This wasn’t a good sign, but in all honesty, Venia had not really expected to find Fadan here. If the Prince
was
a Mage, as she suspected, his nightly activities probably involved visits to the Docks. He had to have a Runium supplier, and those were usually working out of the Docks. With the Paladins raiding the district now, the most likely scenario involved the Prince being caught by one the patrols.

That will be a hard one to solve…

“Looking for someone?”

Venia jumped, circling towards the voice, her dagger sliding into her hand. It was Lord Fabian.

How did I not hear him?
she thought, her heart racing.

“Well, you know me, boss,” Venia said. “It’s what I do.”

The old General stepped slowly into the room, inspecting it as if for the first time. “Looks like you didn’t find him, though. That’s… disappointing.”

Venia studied the man from head to toe. He had clearly followed her, but why? Which prompted another question – Could she beat him in a fight? His technique was probably still flawless, but at his age, how strong and quick could he really be?

“Is this a performance review?” Venia asked. “Because I promise you my next report
will
be ready on time.”

Fabian shook his head. “I’m not amused, Venia,” he said. “Where is he?”

“Where is who?”

The man snapped forward. He lunged at her, grabbing the wrist of her knife arm. Without even realizing what had happened, Venia felt herself spin. The old man had her pinned in a neck lock, her knife arm twisted so hard she couldn’t even twitch it. 

Goddess damn it,
she fumed, admonishing herself.

“This isn’t a game, Venia,” Fabian said. “I don’t care about your fake reports. I just want to know where the Prince is.”

“I really wish I could tell you,” Venia struggled to say. “You know, since you’re asking so nicely.”

Fabian tightened his grip. “What is this place?” he asked.

What?

“Are you serious?” Venia asked. “Shouldn’t you, of all people, know that?”

“The Prince didn’t want me to know about it, so I respected his privacy,” Fabian replied. He sounded almost apologetic.

“Oh, well, that’s certainly helpful right now.” She felt the grip around her neck loosen and managed to push herself free, gasping for air.

“He’s clearly not here. What other leads do you have?” he asked. “Where were you going to look next?”

“I actually hadn’t planned that far yet,” Venia replied, massaging at her neck. “But, just to clarify, if you
didn’t
know about this place, does that mean you don’t know what the Prince was doing here? What he…
is
?”

“No, I do not. Whatever the Prince does – or
is
– is none of my concern. Or yours, for that matter. Right now, however, I do care is if that knowledge can help us locate him.”

Venia smiled, sheathing her dagger. “If I had to guess, yeah, that knowledge probably can help. What do you know about the Paladin’s raid taking place as we speak?”

“I know that it’s going to go down fast, and I know that it has already started,” Fabian replied.

“In that case, you’d better get the entire Scriptorium to work, boss. Because I’m pretty sure the Prince is about to be arrested.”

Alman led them out through a hidden tunnel beneath the hull of a ship standing up for repairs on a dry-dock’s scaffolding. It was a narrow, short underpass, and they were forced to crawl their way through in complete darkness before emerging about a hundred feet east of the burning warehouse.

Sabium’s fire had spread quickly. Bells rung and people were pouring into the street, holding buckets and rushing to haul water from the river to the growing inferno. Rugged sailors and fishwives cursed the gods, sweating as they hurried from the fire to the river.

The tunnel’s exit was hidden by a wall of wooden containers, probably ready to be shipped out of the city.

Breathing heavily, Alman peeked out into the main street. “The Paladins are spreading out,” he said. “They’re looking for us.”

“I say we run for the gates,” Sabium suggested. “Get out of the city.”

“No,” Alman argued. “Always avoid the main exits. That’s where they expect you to go.” He wiped sweat from his temples and moved away from the edge of the crate wall. “Listen to me. The Rebellion has a contingency plan in place for situations such as these.”

“Contingency?” Sabium echoed. “Alman, the entire Rebellion in Augusta is being arrested as we speak.”

“We’re not that easy to catch,” Alman assured him. “Every safe house and hideout has its precautions. Fake walls and hidden tunnels just like this one. Some of us
will
make it.”

“What exactly is the contingency plan?” Fadan asked.

“A rotating safe house,” Alman explained. “A place to fall back on and regroup. Its location is only known by Lieutenants, and it changes every other day.”

“Alman…” Sabium shook his head. “They are raiding the
entire
Rebellion in Augusta on the very day when you had scheduled an Empire-wide leadership meeting. The Paladins have obviously infiltrated your organization.”

“I understand that, but they would have to be infiltrated pretty deep to know about something like this. It’s very unlikely.” He took another peek out to the street. “We’ll walk out of here casually, alright? There’s no reason for them to suspect us. The Paladins don’t know what we look like. The crowd will be our cover.”

“Wait,” Fadan said. “There’s one little detail. How are we going to find one of your Lieutenants now?”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Alman replied. He opened his arms. “Ta-da!”

“What?! I thought you just helped with supplies…”

“That was just part of his scheme to get you to join the Rebellion,” Sabium said, a finger aimed at his brother’s nose.

“What does it matter what my rank in the Rebellion is?” Alman asked. “Now come on, before they come sniffing around this way.”   

“Before
who
comes sniffing around?” an unfamiliar voice asked.

All three of them turned at the same time to see four Paladins, two of them with swords aimed high and two holding rectangular, man-sized shields, blocking the way out of the small nook of wooden crates.

A cold hand squeezed Fadan’s stomach. He instinctively went for his sword, but he was carrying none.

“Get down!” Sabium thundered, opening his arms.

Alman and Fadan dove to the ground, just in time to avoid a wall of crates flying towards the Paladin squad. With remarkable precision, the shield bearing Paladins stepped forward to protect their comrades. The massive crates exploded everywhere, shattering on impact with either the ground of the Paladin shields.

“MAGE!” one of the Paladins yelled.

Somewhere near a horn wailed, and shouts of alarm erupted from every direction.

“We have to go,” Sabium cried. “Run!”

The Prince jumped up and lunged towards the huddling Paladins.

“No!” he heard Alman yell. “This way.”

But Fadan knew exactly what he was doing. With a quick slide, he grabbed the fallen sword of a Paladin, then raced back after Alman and Sabium.

They jumped over the remains of the wall of crates that had formed their hiding place up until moments ago only to find another one just as tall beyond it. They looked left and right. All they could see were containers and more containers. It felt like being inside a maze, the echoes of their pursuers seeming to come from everywhere.

Alman made a decision. “This way,” he said, running left.

Fadan and Sabium followed him, glancing backwards in search of their pursuers. They turned left again, and then right. Some of the piles of crates were taller than others, but none were short enough that they could climb over. They would have to find a way out of the labyrinth.

After another turn to the right, the three of them were forced to skid to a halt. They were at a dead end.

“Goddess damn this!” Sabium cursed.

Fadan turned back to the way they had come, lifting his sword into a guard position. “I can hear them coming,” he said. Neither of the two brothers seemed to hear him, though.

“You’re a Goddess damned
Mage
,” Alman said. “Just a carve a path for us already!”

Sabium closed his eyes, whispering a curse, but obeyed nonetheless. There was a loud, thundering sound and the crates began to slowly slide, half to one side, half to other, slowly parting like the gates of a great hall.

“There they are!”

Three Paladins had just turned a corner and charged towards them.

“Here they come!” the Prince said, testing the weight of his sword.

“Don’t use magic on them,” Alman told him.

“
What
?”

“I said don’t use magic on them!”

“Quick, go,” Sabium said, sweat breaking out on his temples. “I’ll hold it.”