“Is that right?” Alexander asked, completely nonplussed by Thale’s threat. “Unfortunately, I’m out of mana. I would prefer to not fight you right now.”
There was something about the way that Alexander said “out of mana” that dripped with an additional significance.
“What?” Thale sneered. “Was that supposed to convince me!? Kinro Tsukumo, attack!”
“Uh…” Kinro looked over at me, unsettled by the obvious fact that someone else was puppeting my body. “All right! I’ll do it!”
“Mulciber ignis tormentum!” Thale shouted as Kinro stepped forward and raised his katana high in the air. As they both moved to attack, Alexander smoothly kicked his staff back into his hand, dropping the red stone he held in that hand as he did so. He made no move to defend himself. All he did was tap himself on the chest, right over his heart as if showing Kinro where to strike.
At the time, I didn’t know what Alexander was planning. All I knew was that Thale and Kinro were playing right into his hands. He wanted us to attack.
Mentally, I yanked control of my arm away from Thale, causing my staff to jerk upward. The conjured orb of molten rock fired in an upward arc, flying forward at a trajectory that would crash somewhere in Etron.
“Stop, Kinro!” I shouted, momentarily regaining control of my mouth.
Kinro stopped his attack at the last second. Half a second later, Alexander’s body flashed with the silver light of magic, morphing into a smaller form. When the silver light subsided, the Blue Mage had been replaced with a terrified woman whose arms had been bound behind her back.
“What?” Kinro asked, his blade just a few centimeters away from the woman’s neck.
The stone held in Alexander’s hand fell to the ground, and I saw the written inscription for the [Message] spell carved into its side. It was a Message Stone, a magic item used for communicating over long distances.
“Where did he go?” Beltane asked.
“The [Castle] spell,” Thale said, spitting on the ground.
A moment later, King Theophrastus and David came within earshot.
Rage in his eyes, Theophrastus walked up to the bound woman and gripped her by the collar. With the ease of a man lifting a kitten, he lifted her into the air and shouted, “Where is the Yomotsan! You’re working with him, aren’t you!”
When the King spoke, the thin veneer of regal grace had completely fallen away, revealing the wrathful warrior underneath. He was covered in blood and fresh wounds, yet none of that seemed to bother him in the slightest. Looking at the King in that moment, it was clear that the warrior he had been in his youth was completely unbowed by age and injury.
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“King Theophrastus!?” With shock and terror on her face, the bound woman gasped in fear. “No! I’m not working with anyone! Please! I was kidnapped by men in bone masks! You have to believe me!”
It’s over.
What do you mean?
Alexander escaped. We won’t be able to catch him. The battle is over.
My body reacted in sympathy with the relief I felt. All at once, the pain of my body rushed into my mind, and I collapsed onto my hands and knees. A terrible, debilitating pain suffused my body. The only thing I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and cry. I was only able to remain conscious due to the healing granted to me by [Undead Lord], though that threatened to run out at any second.
“Where!?” King Theophrastus roared. “Where were you a moment before!?”
The woman sputtered, saying, “Redgrave! A second ago, I was just on the outskirts of Redgrave!”
The City of Redgrave was more than fifty miles south of Etron. Even through the use of a carrier pigeon, it would take at least two days to get a message that far south.
I was only vaguely aware of this interaction. While the King interrogated the bound woman, I violently vomited on the ground.
“My King,” Beltane said calmly, bowing his head. “Please forgive my imprudence, but I don’t believe this woman is our enemy.”
“And who are you to speak to me in such a way!?” Theophrastus shouted, turning his baleful gaze at Beltane.
“A dead man, I’m afraid,” Beltane said with a grimace. He held up the skull on the back of his hand.
Theophrastus dropped the woman, and Kinro was barely fast enough to stop her from crashing into the stone ground. He peered at the skull on the back of his hand and said, “Consider yourself lucky I recognize you, Court Mage Beltane Ostara. Explain yourself, now.”
Speaking in a rasping, tired voice, Thale said, “I think I would have an easier time explaining your situation.” He sent impulses to my legs, lifting my body to a standing position. “The dagger the Yomotsan cut you with was poisoned with something called Death Blight. It’s slow-moving, but it always kills its target. I’m afraid, my King, you will be dead in a year.”
“You had better not be lying, Lord Feldrast,” King Theophrastus said, his voice carrying a threatening edge.
“I suggest that you confirm my claim independently,” Thale said. “You should also know that Death Blight is infectious. If you make blood-to-blood contact with someone else, they will also contract the blight.”
“A year, huh?” The King paused, and an introspective look passed over his face. He looked down at the skull-shaped discoloration on the back of his hand and sighed. Theophrastus searched my expression for deception, and his eyes flashed as he activated some investigative skill.
The gleaming gold-and-silver sword Theophrastus held in his hand fell back into his sheath, and the expression on his face instantaneously swapped from a wrathful smile to a good-natured smile.
“Son, I’m eighty-three years old,” Theophrastus said, chuckling. “If I live another year, then I’ll have lived longer than I deserve.” He looked around and confirmed that all fighting in the King’s Square had stopped.
“I apologize, madam,” Theophrastus said, looking over at the bound woman. “As you can see, this has been a stressful day. What is your name?”
Awed to be in the presence of the King, the woman slowly said, “I-I’m Sybil Duam.”
“We’ll get you back home soon, Ms. Duam,” the King said, turning back to my group as Kinro cut her hands free.
“As for you, Beltane. You have my sympathies. It’s not right for a man to be cut down in his prime.”
A dark look crossed over Beltane’s face as he looked at the mark on the back of his hand. “Thank you.”