By some miracle, Lucyan managed to slip into the trainee barracks mere seconds before curfew, and then into bed. Some of the trainees were late and severely punished—Lucyan was lucky enough to be serenaded with their cries of pain as they each received two lashings before being sent off to bed. He was very glad that he wasn’t one of them—the amulet might disguise his features, but there was no way for him to hide his healing abilities. The warlocks would immediately become suspicious if they gave him lashings that healed over in a matter of minutes.
The next morning, the trainees were gathered out in the field, where Sergeant Tarras and Lord Byrule stood, waiting. “Tran, Suric, Leager, and Delara, you four are to go with Lord Byrule for a briefing. For the rest of you slugs, it’s business as usual. Get going with those laps!”
While the other trainees got started with the morning fitness regimen, Lucyan and the others followed Lord Byrule to the side. “Congratulations,” he said with a genial smile. “You four are the best in your class, and have been selected for a special mission. We are deploying you a little earlier than scheduled, but you will receive intensive extra training, and bonuses, of course.”
“Yes, sir,” they said in unison. The others looked grateful and excited for the opportunity, and Lucyan made sure to match their enthusiasm. It wasn’t hard for him to look eager and interested as Lord Byrule led them into the castle and down an unfamiliar corridor. His nerves were humming—whatever the spymaster was about to show them was surely valuable information.
Lord Byrule stopped at a thick, heavy door of black metal, then pressed the ring on his right hand against the door and muttered an incantation. Lucyan’s keen ears caught it, and he committed it to memory as the door opened, revealing a large, almost cavernous chamber. Inside were many box-like devices with mirrors placed on top of them. Agents were seated in front of these mirrors, and as Lucyan moved closer, he was astonished to see various scenes playing out in front of them. Some of the mirrors were trained on Dragon’s Keep, others on Castle Whitestone, and still more on various places in Dragonfell and Elvenhame.
“By the gods,” Delara said, her voice hushed as she stared at the mirrors. “What are these things?”
“This is our scrying room,” Lord Byrule said proudly, indicating the mirrors. “Each mirror is attached to a special device that can be remotely controlled from this room and sent to various locations to spy on activities.” He gestured to the warlock who had immediately appeared at his side. “Captain Barraflow is in charge of this operation. Captain, would you show them the scrying device?”
“Yes, sir.” The warlock hurried away, and returned with something that looked like a fluffy woolen ball. “This is the device,” he explained, holding it out to them. The trainees were allowed to touch it, and as Lucyan turned it over in his hands, he realized the device was solid metal, with a large, glowing gem inside. It looked rather like an eye wrapped in cotton. He imagined the wrapping served as a camouflage—if the device floated high enough in the air, it would be impossible to see from below. “It requires a warlock to activate, but once it is powered, anyone can control it with this special plate.” He gestured to one of the agents sitting in front of the mirrors, who indeed held a metal plate in his hand, etched in glowing runes. Lucyan watched as he skimmed his hand across the plate, and the view in the mirror shifted to the left.
“This is incredible,” one of the other recruits said. “Does the enemy know about this?”
Lord Byrule smirked. “Of course not. I think they are catching on that we have found a way to magically spy on them, as we have not overheard any important conversations for quite some time. But they have no idea how we are doing it, and even if they did, there is nothing they could do. This castle is far too well guarded.”
“It’s a brilliant device,” Lucyan murmured, walking between the mirrors in the hopes that he might catch a glimpse of Dareena. To his delight, he saw her standing in the window of her bedroom. There was a woman behind her that Lucyan did not recognize, but he imagined that she was one of her ladies-in-waiting—Dareena did not appear alarmed at her presence, at any rate. She did look rather forlorn as she stared out at the gardens, and Lucyan’s heart twisted with guilt. He felt terrible seeing her all locked up in the Keep, but now that he knew what the warlocks were capable of, he knew it was the right thing to do. Drystan and Alistair had no doubt confined her indoors until the babe was born.
The warlocks bantered amongst themselves for a bit, crowing about all the great riches and power coming their way once the other kingdoms were subdued.
“I’ll buy myself a treasure trove of weapons and gowns, and a big house to keep them all in,” Delara declared, her eyes sparkling with the promise of wealth. “Maybe I’ll even hire a few men to walk around naked and serve my every whim.” She winked at Lucyan.
Lucyan laughed, suppressing his urge to incinerate the entire room right then and there. He liked Delara more than the others, but this moment reminded him that she, too, was the enemy. He pretended to joke and laugh with the others while committing the details of the room to memory. He would come back here and destroy this place once he found the counterspell to wake Basilla. And then he would return to his beloved.
19
It took a few days, but eventually Captain Tinor awoke from his coma. He was still swathed from head to toe in bandages and poultice, and in pain, but his mind was alert, to Alistair’s great relief.
“I can’t believe you’ve been sitting by my bedside all this time,” Tinor rasped as a healer spoon-fed him his first meal. “Don’t you have a kingdom to run?”
“Luckily, I have my brother to take care of things in my absence, as well as my beautiful mate,” Alistair said with a smile. “I wasn’t going to leave you until I knew for certain you would recover.”
Tinor tried to smile, then grimaced in pain. “As much as I appreciate the sentiment, I don’t want your mate to rip my balls off for keeping you from her for so long. I’ll suffer for a while, my prince, but I’ll recover eventually. You need to go home.”
Alistair knew he was right. His heart ached from being separated from his mate, and for the first time, he understood how his father had descended so quickly into madness. If Dareena had been taken from him like that, he wasn’t certain he would keep his sanity.