Last Stand (The Black Mage #4)

“So this one doesn’t smile before noon.” The knight made a face. “Or have you forgotten which charge we drag out of bed each morning. Remember that one time? She almost singed off your brow with that casting.”

To be fair, they had thought collapsing a tent with me inside was an appropriate measure. I yawned loudly at Paige’s observance. “Maybe I’m just having a good day. Did you ever think of that?”

“Maybe you finally cracked under the pressure.”

“You would like that, wouldn’t you,” I countered. “I’d be much more compliant.”

“My beautiful wife? Compliant?” Darren scoffed from the tree where our horses were tethered. It was his turn to see to our charges. “That will be the day.”

I rolled my eyes at all three of my companions. “Are we done commenting on my mood? I believe we have some Pythians to greet.”

Universal groans met with my declaration.

“I don’t know who I care to see most,” the prince said dryly, “Priscilla, her father, or Duke Cassius.”

The three of us finished up the rest of our breakfast in silence. A couple of minutes later and we were on the road, salty sea air and grassy plains providing a nice change of pace. Ella would love this a lot more than the keep, I thought absently. She hated the cold more than anyone I knew. Perhaps when things were over, Alex could take her somewhere along the coast. Winter was a lot kinder by the sea.

As the sun finally set, we reached the cobblestone streets of Jerar’s most famous port. It was also run by the wealthiest man in the country, save the king himself, Baron Langli. It was a beautiful town. Months of my apprenticeship had been spent walking the beach—when I wasn’t sleeping off exhaustion in the barracks.

Torches lined the paved road to my nemesis’s old home. The castle might have been smaller than the palace in Devon, but it was certainly no less intimidating.

From a comfortable bluff just outside the city limits, white sandstone piled high into the sky, spiraling golden turrets at its peaks. I could see the baron’s proud sigil, a white stag against a flag of indigo, flapping from a high window to the left. Where the palace was cold and the Academy rough, this castle was beauty and grace.

I’d seen the baron’s home from a distance, of course, but never this close. The barracks were at the opposite end of the city.

Real comprehension of what Darren had given up weighed down on me as I studied the Langli legacy. Pick the girl you love, or the girl whose wealth could save hundreds… That guilt only deepened as guards in indigo ushered us forward, taking our mounts and bringing us inside.

Inside was only worse. Thousands upon thousands of abalone shells had been pressed into the walls, their rich inner hues catching light streaming in through the windows so that the entire hall caught fire with the sun. Blue and green and amethyst washed over the entire room like the sea.

“Your Highness, you always were one for impeccable timing.” A slim man with hawk-like angles and severe white locks strode across the hall. He was dressed in expensive cloth that draped loosely off his frame. His stature spoke of grace, and his skin was faultless, just like his castle.

“You remember well, Alain.” Darren afforded the man a strained smile.

I took in the others—a boy, slightly younger than myself, whose sulky countenance brought back years of unbridled hate, and an impossibly beautiful girl who I had spent so many years trying to understand.

Neither of us were anxious to exchange greetings.

The baron continued effortlessly. “You remember my family, of course. My daughter, Priscilla, and my nephew, Merrick, who assures me he has had the pleasure as well.” There was a pause as his voice tightened, just the slightest change in his tone. It wasn’t hard to guess the reason. “I take it this one is your… wife.”

“Have the Pythians already arrived?” Darren was doing his best to avoid the growing tension in the room.

“Only an hour before yourself.” Baron Langli appeared to have recovered from the unexpected silence. “Duke Cassius and his party took the chambers to the east. After two weeks at sea, they intended to refresh before anything else.”

“Shall we take the chambers in the west?”

“You remember our home well.”

“Why wouldn’t he?” Priscilla’s eyes flashed. “He wasn’t here all that long ago, taking dinners during the apprenticeship while he courted that one behind my back.”

“Priscilla.” Her father’s tone bespoke a warning.

“She’s right.” Darren spoke softly to my right, his face paling just the slightest; I tried not to read anything into it. “I believe I can see to my wife and guards without an escort. Thank you for having us.”

The girl’s eyes narrowed as she folded her arms in a defensive stance. “We didn’t have a choice.”

“Priscilla!” the baron choked out, his face growing red with rage. “Enough!”