"My name is Iska ta'Varius. I am here representing Magura."
Captain Fenn snorted. Lucian heard her breathing quicken noticeably.
There was a brief pause. Then the arcanist continued:
"Hand over the Flame Hunter. Should this be refused, measures will follow whose consequences Grania cannot afford to ignore."
Lucian's blood pounded against his temple.
Stay calm. Do not make any stupid decisions. That will not help Nova.
He looked at Fenn. Jarek was not here, so the command fell to her. How would she decide?
Captain Fenn rested a hand on her weapon and let her gaze sweep across the courtyard.
Finally, she replied:
"I see no army. On what grounds do you issue this ultimatum?"
Lucian's jaw tightened slightly. Jarek would have reacted differently.
A quiet exhale escaped Iska. The corners of his mouth twitched subtly.
He answered:
"An army, you say? That will not be necessary. The two of us are more than sufficient."
That arrogant bastard.
"Compose yourself, Verley," Fenn whispered sharply.
Lucian blinked several times in quick succession. Fenn inclined her head slightly forward, looked first at Lucian and then at his hands. He followed the gesture. His fists were clenched so tightly that they trembled.
He nodded at her and spread his fingers to fight the shaking.
Captain Fenn raised her open palm toward Iska. He responded with a courteous smile and a nod.
She leaned closer to Lucian and whispered:
"Is he bluffing?"
He turned his face sharply toward her. Although Fenn was watching Iska and could not see Lucian's expression, she continued:
"I lack the professional expertise when it comes to arcanists and whatever his companion may be. Normally, tasks like this fall to the Leonis or the banner families. At the moment, however, we are on our own until Commander Liard arrives."
"I am neither a Leonis nor a member of a banner family responsible for the border regions. Strictly speaking, I am no more trained for this than you are," Lucian replied in a subdued voice.
"That may be so, but you maintain close contact with Commander Liard," she remarked.
Lucian's eyebrows shot up.
"I have contacts at the palace. I know the rumors," she added, then returned to the previous topic, "So? Commander Liard must have passed on some of his wisdom if you are his right hand. How do you assess the situation? Is their threat to be taken seriously?"
Iska loosely folded one arm over the other and touched his chin with thumb and forefinger. His companion remained motionless behind him, yet her scent made Lucian's nose itch.
Iska's attention, which had rested on Fenn until then, returned to Lucian when he wrinkled his nose. He looked at him over the rim of his glasses.
Lucian straightened his back in response. Why was he looking at him like that? Had he noticed? No, that was impossible. How could he have known?
He answered Fenn:
"The magic of arcanists is not uniform. Most have some form of specialization, even though there are spells nearly all of them can wield. Some are even capable of rendering the magic of other arcanists ineffective."
From the corner of his eye, Lucian watched Fenn. Her expression did not change, but she exhaled through her nose.
He continued:
"Beyond that, and the fact that they are weak in close combat, I do not know much. But there is one thing I do know: no matter whether arcanist, drakanian, or anything else … when they say they do not need an army to make good on their threat, they are usually not bluffing."
"That means we are at a disadvantage, even though there are only two of them," Fenn whispered.
Lucian rubbed the back of his neck and murmured:
"I cannot believe I am saying this, but yes … you cannot compare them to humans. Not even remotely. Even a Leonis would not act alone."
His own words weighed heavily on him.
"I understand," she replied curtly.
Iska cleared his throat and said:
"Is your discussion concluded now?"
Captain Fenn drew her shoulders back.
"Forgive us, but we do not receive such … guests every day," she said.
That emphasis again, Lucian thought as his brows knitted together.
"'Guests'?" Iska said, his tone carrying a faint bitterness. "Is the Flame Hunter also your 'guest'?"
"In a manner of speaking," Fenn replied and lifted her chin.
Strange. Lucian had assumed that Magura had no personal interest in Nova, only in the power of the Flame Hunter. Just like Aurel. Did the two of them know each other?
When Iska stepped forward, Fenn leaned slightly ahead.
He would not dare.
Among the soldiers, one or two breaths caught.
Fenn moved in front of Lucian and warned Iska:
"Not another step."
A barely audible sound, akin to a soft laugh, slipped from Iska's lips. Then he placed one foot ahead of the other.
What is the point of this behavior?
Lucian shifted his weight onto his front foot. His palm was slick with sweat, so he tightened his fingers around the hilt of his sword.
Iska was clearly an arcanist, and yet he dared to approach them. That did not fit. Jarek had drilled it into Lucian time and again: 'Arcanists are extremely powerful, but if you manage to drag one into close combat, he is no longer a match for you.'
This arcanist was planning something, and Lucian did not want to wait to find out what it was. At least Iska's smaller ally remained where they were.
Captain Fenn called out:
"Stop right there! We can speak to each other from where we stand!"
"I believed I was gradually beginning to understand the customs and manners of humans. Yet it seems I am laboring under a dreadful misconception", Iska halted and pushed his glasses higher up his nose, "Tell me, Captain Fenn … is it customary to throw one's esteemed 'guests' into a dark cell? Is it customary to hunt them like an animal? And for what reason? Because of their magic? Because they are different?" he said with a controlled sharpness that made Lucian's blood run cold.
Captain Fenn and Lucian drew their weapons at the same time.
Lucian's gaze flicked back and forth between Iska and his companion.
Then he exhaled. He could not afford to make mistakes. Nova was depending on him.
"Final warning!", Fenn admonished the arcanist, "Take one more step and we will be forced to act!"
Lucian's heart was racing. How had things spiraled out of control so suddenly?
"That is most unfortunate," Iska sighed and stepped forward again.
That is enough.
Lucian pushed off the ground and shot toward Iska. He swung in a diagonal strike aimed at Iska's upper body.
"Lucian! Get back!"
Jarek!
Just before his blade could cut across Iska's upper body, Lucian broke off the attack and leapt back several paces.
Greenish-yellow vines burst from the ground. Like snakes, they lashed through the air and twisted in every direction. They grabbed blindly at everything they could reach.
Many of the guards struggled against them. The few who had not been caught tried to hack the vines apart with their swords, but they were either flung aside, disarmed, or forced to retreat.
Shit!
Where had those creeping plants come from all of a sudden? Were they part of Iska's magic? Lucian had not seen a magic circle. One should have flared into view.
Vines had also emerged beside Iska, yet they did not touch him. Instead, they surrounded him like a living wall.
One of them lashed out at Lucian. He jumped aside at the last possible moment.
When it missed him, it slammed into the ground, shattering the paving stones. A large, gaping hole tore open.
Lucian swallowed. He did not want to know what would have happened if the vine had caught him, but he was certain he would not have survived for long.
By now, several people were lying on the ground, clutching a leg, a side, or whatever body part had been injured. Others were carrying the wounded away, yet everyone was still moving. No one had died.
Strange. Why had that vine struck with such force? Had the other plants attacked with the same power, there would have been nothing left of the guards. Either the magic had been restrained, or it grew stronger the closer one was to its wielder.
He signaled to Fenn that they should keep their distance. She agreed and, like Lucian, increased the space between herself and Iska.
The earthy floral scent burned worse than before in his sinuses. Instinctively, he raised a hand to his face.
How was he supposed to focus with that stench?
A treacherous shiver ran down Lucian's spine, warning him that he was being watched.
Then he met Iska's red eyes, fixed directly on him. A glimmer showed in them, as though he had discovered something of interest. Somehow, he seemed … knowing?
Lucian tilted his head back and forth to loosen the tension in his neck. Then he readjusted his fingers on the sword hilt.
Do not let him distract you. It does not matter whether he knows.
Iska's companion had not moved since Lucian's arrival. He had not even seen a finger twitch. Not now either, despite the vines snapping wildly around them.
Were they controlling them with their thoughts alone? Was that even possible? Or was there a third person who had gone unnoticed until now? But where?
If only that smell were gone. Maybe then Lucian could determine whether someone else was there.
Several boots thundered over the cobblestones.
"Stay out of it," he heard Jarek order quietly.
Several voices followed:
"Understood, Commander."
Lucian turned toward the sounds.
Jarek pushed past the soldiers, three mercenaries in tow.
The arcanist at Jarek's side widened his eyes when he reached the front and stopped as if rooted to the spot. The expression of the tall Drakanian hardened, and the Drakanian woman clicked her tongue. Both then wrinkled their noses.
A crease formed between Lucian's brows. Should mercenaries not be more composed in situations like this?
Jarek came to a halt between Captain Fenn and Lucian and said calmly:
"I am taking command."
Before passing Lucian, he touched his shoulder and gave it a brief squeeze.
"Understood," Captain Fenn replied.
Jarek let an instant pass and thrust his lower jaw forward.
After a deep breath, he spoke in a dry tone:
"I did not expect to see you in Grania, Ashbringer of Silvandar."
Lucian's lids closed and opened several times in his confusion.
Ashbringer of Silvandar?
"Hm," Iska said, brushing a silver strand aside, "a dreadful epithet. But deserved, all the same."
Jarek's face twisted. As his heartbeat sped up noticeably, Lucian ground his teeth.
Iska folded his arms and rested his palms against his elbows:
"I heard you were said to have survived the explosion back then. Remarkable that you managed it. Unlike the general … what was his name again…?"
For a blink, Iska's gaze drifted into the distance.
Lucian moved closer to Jarek, worried, because he knew exactly what was coming.
"Oh yes. Reno," Iska added in a melodic voice.
A faint twitch crossed Jarek's face, sending heat rising into Lucian's stomach.
"Do not worry. You will be able to keep him company soon enough," Jarek said dryly and drew his sword from its sheath with a hiss.
The vines around Iska grew calmer, yet they stirred now and then, as though waiting for something.
"Lucian," Jarek addressed Lucian in a low voice, "you have to be careful. He is no ordinary arcanist. I do not know why, but he cannot use magic."
He snapped his head around and asked:
"What do you mean with no magic? Then is he not an arcanist?"
"No, he definitely is," Jarek replied.
"Do you mean he simply does not want to use it?" Lucian probed, confused.
Jarek shook his head:
"At the moment, that is all I can tell you."
Lucian's brow furrowed. At first he thought Jarek meant Iska might not know how to use magic, but that made no sense.
His knowledge might have been limited, but even he knew that magic followed clear rules. It was innate, and depending on one's origin, it was usually easy to tell what kind of magic someone possessed. In battle, this could mean the difference between life and death, which was why opponents were immediately categorized. Lucian did the same, even though he disliked that way of thinking.
The only beings born without magic were humans.
So how could Iska be an arcanist if he could not wield magic? It contradicted everything Jarek had ever taught him.
"Captain Fenn, have you and your people hold back. We will handle this," Jarek addressed Fenn.
She spun toward him:
"What?! With all due respect, that is not possible!"
"If you do not want your foot soldiers turned into cannon fodder, you should let us do this. We have experience with threats like this," Jarek advised her, his face devoid of expression.
Fenn blinked a few times, then opened her mouth.
Jarek cut her off before she could utter a single sound:
"For humans, it is too dangerous."
"For humans?" Fenn replied, her eyes narrowing as she glanced sideways at Lucian.
"Leave that to me. But whatever you are about to witness: it stays between us. Understood?" he demanded coolly.
She pulled down the corners of her mouth, nodded, and gave her unit a quick hand signal before stepping back.
At a look from Jarek, the arcanist joined her. The Drakanians moved to Lucian in the meantime.
The Drakanian woman wrinkled her nose and muttered:
"Disgusting."
"This is how we proceed," Jarek said quietly. "Lucian, you and the Drakanians will deal with the Verdani, while the arcanist and I take down Iska. He is our biggest problem right now. If he falls, the fight is over."
Lucian wanted to object, but Jarek raised a finger and shot him a sharp look.
He closed his mouth and wondered silently why Jarek wanted to prioritize Iska, even though he could not cast spells.
Then a word caught his attention, one he did not yet know.
"Verdani?" he repeated, his head throbbing.
"That stinking brat with the plant magic," the Drakanian woman explained, her mouth twisted.
Ever since Jarek had told Lucian that Iska could not use magic, he had suspected it, but now he finally knew who was controlling the vines.
"Understood. We will take care of it," Lucian replied, adjusting his grip on the sword.
His target had changed.
"It will be strange to fight once all the smells are gone," the Drakanian woman remarked, holding her nose.
"I do not know what you are talking about. I smell nothing," Jarek said, rubbing his forehead.
He looked at Lucian:
"Deal with the Verdani the same way we did back at the border post, Lucian. And you must not take a single hit, or it is over. Do you understand?"
Lucian nodded. He had not thought about that day in a long time.
The two Drakanians looked at him expectantly.
Jarek gave the arcanist in the background a hand signal.
"So it does come to a fight after all?" Iska asked, removing his glasses and cleaning the lenses with the fabric of his robe.
That bastard.
"Go," Jarek ordered.
Lucian and the Drakanians sprinted off. They made the widest possible arc around Iska and headed straight for the small something in the dark hooded cloak.
Iska watched them without moving and then turned his attention back to Jarek.
Lucian caught himself wondering whether it did not concern Iska at all that they were attacking his ally.
He pushed the thought aside and called over his shoulder:
"Keep as many of the vines busy as you can!"
"Alright," the Drakanian woman replied and held up a few fingers.
The two of them fell back a little and split up across the field.
Instantly, vines shot out of the ground, snapping at him. He changed direction abruptly, nearly stumbled, and leapt over the next creeping plant.
One suddenly came at him from the side. Lucian struck with his sword, but he did not even manage to cut the plant halfway through. He yanked the blade free in a hurry and tried again. This time as well, he could not break through.
Then four of them lunged at him. He jumped back and countered with several sword strikes. Not one of them caused any real damage.
At the next attack, he ducked. A cold rush of air brushed past him as the vine narrowly missed his face.
Why can I not get through this greenery?
The next tendrils, which shot toward him like arrows, he shoved aside with his elbow.
A sharp pain tore through his entire forearm bone, but it proved more effective than any of his previous sword attacks.
On impact, the tissue gave way at once.
Strange.
Countless more vines burst from the earth at lightning speed. Everywhere he tried to step.
For quite a while, he did nothing but evade them. From time to time, he managed to steal a glance at the Drakanians.
The tall Drakanian stepped aside to avoid a deadly strike meant for him and brushed a claw across a vine. From the mere touch, ice spread from his claw over the plant. Within half a heartbeat, it was completely frozen solid.
As soon as one tendril was neutralized, he moved on to the next.
Lucian was astonished. Despite his size, the Drakanian moved with remarkable grace and almost no sound.
He dodged three vines and closed in on the Verdani, who stood a good dozen steps away from him.
A cracking sound drew Lucian's attention to the Drakanian woman. Sharp, white bones were growing out of her arm, which she used like a weapon. They were so sharp that they sliced through the plants with a single cut.
Lucian held his breath for a moment, then had to dodge the next vine. He would have liked to check on Jarek as well, but the Verdani gave him no further opportunity to take in the situation.
All at once, a deafening bang made the ground tremble. So loud that Lucian thought his eardrum would burst. In one ear, he heard little more than a ringing hiss, and dizziness washed over him.
Every sound that followed was heavily muffled, but the smell of smoke hung in the air.
More plants shot up and nearly caught his leg, but they were slower than the ones before. The strategy was working after all. Jarek had been right.
Because of that, he managed to cover the last few arm lengths to the Verdani without trouble.
Slightly out of breath, he took the final stretch at a sprint. His sword stayed close to his body the entire time.
As soon as the small creature was no more than a leap away, he swung from the side, aiming straight for where he assumed the neck to be. He did not enjoy killing, but if it had to be done, he did what was necessary. Today, no one would die.
'The head, Lucian', Jarek's words echoed in his mind.
In a clean, half-circling strike, Lucian's blade shot toward his opponent like a bolt of lightning.
Suddenly, a single vine appeared behind his target. Faster than any Lucian had fought before. There was no time to react.
Oh.
It pierced his upper body and dragged him along with it. Like a leaf caught in a merciless storm, he was hurled through the air.
The world around him blurred and dissolved into a chaos of colors, points of light, and streaks.
Lucian's stomach nearly turned as he flew helplessly through the air. An unpleasant tingling crawled across his back, as if warning him that something was rushing toward him. Or that he was rushing toward it.
"Lucian!" he heard Jarek shout.
Then he slammed into something hard. Stone shattered behind him at once. A wide, stabbing pain spread from his back all the way down to his toes.
The last bit of air left in his lungs was forced out of him.
He slid down the hard surface and collapsed to the ground.
His sword slipped from his hand and clattered across the cobblestones.
Lucian's head sagged forward. His eyelids fluttered a few times before he finally mustered what little strength he had left and forced them open.
A green vine ran straight through his chest. Everything was soaked in blood, even his legs, which he could no longer feel.
Shit, he thought as he coughed up blood.
The plant writhed inside his wound, sending a hellish agony through every fiber of his body.
He screamed and grabbed at it, trying to stop it from pulling free of his chest. He had seen wounds like this often enough. When you pulled out what caused them, then…
The plant tore itself free with a pitiless jerk. A fresh surge of blood poured over his body. Within a few blinks, he was sitting in a red pool.
Shit. This is not good. This is really not good.