Feral Mage 3: Chapter 36

They were a few blocks from the temple when the sound of ringing bells filled the city, signaling all of Witchbrook’s defenders that enemy ships had been spotted approaching the harbor. Bryce cursed the timing. He almost considered turning back to get Thea and the others, then making a run for the guild together. Before he could, Vex’s ears went flat, and she let out a low growl as her pace slowed.

“We’re being followed,” she said in beastkin.

Bryce’s eyes widened, and he pulled on his Manticore Aspect. As his senses sharpened from the Aspect, he heard the sound of clanking armor in the distance. He could smell their sweat and even pick up some of their hushed commands to each other.

They’re trying to box us in!

Vex was watching him, waiting to see what the plan of action was, her hand resting on the hilt of the knife at her belt. Bryce knew fighting the city guards was pointless. It would only end with a bounty on their heads.

“Vex,” Bryce said, coming to a decision. “I’m going to lead them away from you. What you need to do is head to the guildhall. Let Mark and Callie know the Duke tried to arrest Lady Thea and where she and the others are. Carry out the contract, I’ll join you as soon as I can.”

She frowned.

“I’m not leaving you,” she said.

Bryce shook his head.

“I need you to trust me on this. The city is about to be attacked, we need to get Lady Thea to the guildhall and be ready to leave if the defenses fall.”

Vex was still frowning, and Bryce expected her to start arguing, but then she nodded.

“I trust you. Stay safe,” she said before kissing him. “Come back soon, or I will find you.”

She tapped the callingstone necklace hanging around her neck.

Bryce nodded, then broke into a run through a nearby alleyway where he heard the guards’ voices coming from. He emerged right in front of them, and they shouted at him as he raced for the next alleyway, the clanking of their armor following him. He made it three blocks when a wall of Ice Spikes cut him off.

“My next spell will send one through your head,” a voice warned.

Bryce turned to see Jasper behind him with several guards around him. More guards were rushing down the street to join them.

“Jasper,” Bryce greeted, his gaze sweeping the armed men surrounding him. “The bells are ringing. Shouldn’t you and your men be defending the harbor?”

All the guards wore helmets or hoods that hid much of their facial features, but as they gathered, Bryce started to notice several were sea elves. His unease at the situation was growing.

“I’m here to arrest you on the orders of the Duke,” Jasper answered, water swirling around him, ready to be used in an instant for a spell if he needed to attack. The Duke’s assistant’s gaze was fixed on Bryce’s black claws from his Aspect. “I suggest you drop your spell.”

Reluctantly, he dropped the Manticore Aspect. When he did, three guards approached him, one carrying the heavy iron cuffs. The guard placed the cuffs on his wrists and ankles while two more trained crossbows at him.

“I had hoped it would be a little longer before I saw the inside of Witchbrook’s jail again,” Bryce said with a frown, looking at the shackles. “What are the charges?”

Jasper’s face betrayed no emotion as he answered.

“Treason.”

Bryce’s eyes widened.

“What?”

Jasper made no comment, only turned and gestured to the guards. Two guards forced Bryce to walk while several others kept crossbows, swords, and spears ready to strike if he tried to escape. The only relief he felt about the situation was that there had been no mention of Vex. He hoped she made it to the guildhall safely.

They walked through Witchbrook, guards flanking him on all sides and Jasper leading them. Those who passed paid little mind as they rushed toward the harbor to help defend the city.

They’re not taking me to the city jail.

He looked at his chains, doubtful he could break them with the Primal Troll Aspect. He wondered if he could Chimera his Quill Wyvern and Primal Troll Aspects would the healing factor be enough to keep the guards’ crossbow bolts from grounding him before he could escape? He doubted it, especially once Jasper started hurling spells at him.

Eventually, they arrived at a warehouse a few blocks from the harbor, but away from where the defenders were gathering. Jasper knocked, then opened the door before entering. The guards pushed Bryce forward, following the Duke’s assistant.

The warehouse was stacked with crates, goods from Witchbrook destined to be shipped out. His gaze settled on the finely dressed woman waiting with several sea elf guards. She glared at Bryce.

“You were supposed to return with the Princess, not her help!” Charlotte growled at Jasper.

Bryce scoffed and looked at Jasper.

“Odd company to keep while the city is under attack.”

Jasper ignored him, walking deeper into the warehouse as Charlotte waved her hand. The sound of two bow strings twanged, and Bryce grunted in pain as something stabbed through both his legs, dropping him to the ground. As he lay on the floor, he saw two bolt heads sticking through his legs as blood pooled from them. He pulled on his Primal Troll Aspect, the wound closing around the bolt shafts and stifling the bleeding.

“Don’t kill him yet, he knows where she is,” Jasper quickly stated as he approached one of the crates and lifted the lid. “We followed the Princess to the Baroness’s house, but it was empty. I suspect he helped her escape.”

Charlotte scoffed as she approached where Bryce lay on the floor.

“This one is difficult to kill. I drove a knife into his heart, and he got back up,” she said, staring down at him before kicking him in the face. “Hello again, peasant. My, how the tables have turned.”

The guards drew steel, and half a dozen blades were pointed at Bryce, his busted nose healing as Charlotte knelt before him. She grinned as she rested her chin in the palm of her hand, the strand of blue hair swaying in the air.

“Are you wondering what happened?” she asked with mirth. “It’s rather simple. Jasper saw the futility of resisting Harold Volson, so he decided to switch sides and freed me.”

Bryce looked past Charlotte to see Jasper using his magic to make chunks of ice before placing them inside the crate.

“And you call me a traitor,” Bryce said to the man.

Jasper turned slightly from the crate to look at Bryce.

“I am pragmatic,” he said, his voice calm. “You saw that thing at the Duke’s estate, the same as I, stitched together from corpses. On the ship, we fought puppets made from corpses that masqueraded as masterful musicians before they became assassins. He has worse than those. This isn’t a war the Kingdom of Brook can hope to win.”

Bryce stared up at the man, recalling what he had heard Harold Volson tell Charlotte through his puppet.

Keep them on ice this time.

“Who’s in the crate?” Bryce asked.

Jasper’s neutral expression finally cracked as he sneered at Bryce, then looked to Charlotte.

“Stop gloating and find out where the Princess is,” Jasper demanded.

Charlotte’s hand reached out toward Bryce, closing around the callingstone necklace before yanking it and breaking the leather strap around his neck. She tossed it to Jasper, who caught it.

“I had wondered how his women found him when I fled the Duke’s estate. Follow that, it should lead you to where the Princesses are,” Charlotte said.

Bryce tried to lunge at her, and several of the guards' swords stabbed into him until he was pinned to the ground. Charlotte giggled at his attempt before she placed her hand on his head.

“In the name of my God, Paralysis,” she said, casting her spell.

Bryce felt the control of his body fade away as the blades pinning him pulled free. He could only stare at Charlotte with seething hatred. Beside her, Jasper dangled the necklace, seeing which way the stone would lean. Then the man turned and left the warehouse with a few of the guards following him. Charlotte watched him, then turned back to Bryce with a twisted grin.

“Fear is a powerful tool. Jasper and I are both motivated by fear of what’s to come. For him, it’s Harold Volson’s creations, and because of that fear, he killed the Duke and sabotaged the defenses of the city.”

She dragged her nails down his cheek, and he felt blood ooze from the scratches.

“Witchbrook will fall, and Harold will arrive himself to turn the Duke into a puppet. Once he has the second most powerful man in the Kingdom of Brook, he might not even need King Bradford.”

She leaned down beside his ear and whispered.

“I want you to know it’s all because of you, peasant. If you hadn’t captured me, I doubt this attack would have been as successful.”

Dread filled Bryce, but not at Charlotte’s words. He barely considered the Princess as she stood.

“My fear is the return of the Sorrowful King and what that would mean for the fate of all life on the continent. That is why I do this, not for cruelty or petty revenge, but because I must to ensure a golden future.”

She looked to her guards.

“Strip him out of his shirt and chain him to one of the beams. He may be able to heal himself, but he can still feel pain,” Charlotte commanded. “I’ll gather my tools.”

The guards had to drag him to the nearest beam due to the crossbow bolts still embedded in his legs. They bound the chains around him and the beam to force Bryce to stand. The bolts’ shafts in his legs preventing the wounds from fully healing.

Charlotte was working to light coals in a brazier. The iron rods resting against a nearby crate told all too well what she intended to do. Bryce, though, paid little attention to any of it. Since the moment Charlotte said Harold Volson was coming to Witchbrook, he had been focused on the song only he could hear.

Ciarra’s song.