Relias drew himself to full height, his robes billowing with divine energy. His clawed fingers sizzled with radiant defiance as he summoned two bright balls of golden rage. “I will not—Nora?”

  Nora had stormed toward Oliver, placing herself directly between them. For one brief, irrational moment, I believed she was trying to de-escalate the tension. However, she continued, stopping just short of His Dark Majesty.

  “Big words from the all-powerful demon king,” she said cooly. “But I wonder... How's that moniker working out for you?”

  She looked around with wide eyes, going so far as to put her hand to her brow as she searched mockingly. “Where are all your loyal subjects? Your fawning minions? You know, anyone who would care to hear what you have to say?”

  “No fighting!” I yelled again as I moved to intercept.

  Oliver seethed into a hazy, dark mist. “What are you?”

  “Your mid-season replacement,” Nora replied, holding up her hand to stop me.

  His foggy form froze, then swirled in agitation. “I won’t pretend to understand the context behind that answer. But I do know an insult when I hear one.”

  “One? No, no. I’ve insulted you several times already. But just in case you’re missing my point, let me elucidate. You want to lecture him for hiding in Chairo?” She raised both hands and crooked her fingers like little horns at her temples. “You’ve been sealed in your ego shrine here for how long now? And don’t act like that was just your siblings’ doing. You made the prison; they just locked the door. You ripped out your brother’s eye, betrayed your sister’s trust, and now you’re sulking supreme because no one wants to play 'King' with you.”

  “I had my reasons for my actions! But what of you, Otherworlder? What is your reason for being here?”

  “I already told you. I’m your replacement. A far more likable dark mage recruited by the Holy Order of Gold.”

  “You lie.” Oliver pulled himself back together with a hiss, flinging his cape as he turned away. “About both your Purpose and your appeal.”

  Nora was already making her way back to Relias’s side. “And here I was worried we wouldn’t understand each other.” She whispered something to him, and he finally dissolved the gold orbs that had blazed at his fingertips.

  “I can hear you just fine from here,” Oliver confirmed, gesturing at his scythe that had been placed on lockdown. “Feel free to hold onto it as a comfort totem for now.” He folded his arms, his back to them both. “But do not confuse it for a tool to be turned against me.”

  “Shouldn’t we be figuring out our next move?” I asked, looking between them all. “We—”

  “There is us, and then there is him,” Relias snarled. “He will have no say in our plan!”

  At that, Oliver began to laugh. “How do you expect to get out of here without my help?”

  “You will do as you are ordered, and nothing more!”

  “Are you the one issuing orders? I’m not subject to them.”

  “The Captain will tell you what to do, and you will comply!”

  Oliver turned his head back over his shoulder, with one eye open. “And where does that leave you in the chain of command? Will you also comply? Even cease your aggression toward her? Or will you simply berate her the moment we look away?”

  “It’s not your problem whether he does that or not,” I interjected, even though I appreciated the sentiment, deep down. However, I surmised that his words were probably more of a criticism of Relias than anything else. “I can manage my own relationships, thanks.”

  Poorly, perhaps. But that’s a standard management style, if only by default.

  His Holiness stiffened. “I would not indulge in such reprehensible behavior.”

  Oliver once again looked away. “Then why don’t you end your patriarchal posturing and offer to heal her wounds?”

  Relias flinched from the rebuke, then walked over with Nora in tow. “I…”

  “Busy times,” I mumbled, trying to flash him a smile. “And I could have always just asked if it were a big problem.”

  Nora wordlessly helped him pull off some of the bandages.

  “There are marks on your neck!” Relias hissed. “How could he—”

  “He thought I was going to kill him,” I said, following Nora’s accusatory glare at Oliver. “But that’s all in the past now.”

  See? By this point, I was already back to fibbing like a champion. Unfortunately, I cringed the moment his hand grazed my neck, my body reacting out of fear.

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  You need to get over it, Rachel. The bad things are done now!

  Within a minute, my bruises, cuts, and everything in between were healed. Relias worked in silence, his touch clinical and brief. Nora watched with quiet curiosity while Oliver kept his back pointedly turned. I gave my face a few experimental taps at the end, noting that everything seemed in order, and whispered my thanks. Relias gave a curt nod in response, his eyes fixed on the floor.

  “Well, Sage?” Oliver asked from the other side of the room. “How did you plan on escaping?”

  “Upon your extermination,” Relias began, his eyes hardening. “I would have begun a ritual to purge the animus from the area, knowing that Aziza’s barrier feeds off the same malevolent energy you do.”

  Oliver turned, considering his statement. “Then what? Surely, you’ve already surmised that you’d be attacked the moment the barrier fell. Perhaps you skipped an important step?”

  “Relias and I were going to set up a translocation circle and rejoin the Order of White,” Nora added with a shrug.

  “Passable,” Oliver conceded. “But I can do better than that.”

  “Of course you think you can,” Nora snapped.

  Oliver gave her a withering look. “I meant about translocating across a greater distance. There’s no point in engaging in any local skirmishes, now is there?”

  “Well, you should have led with that instead of your ego.” Nora sniffed.

  “What’s your idea?” I asked, cutting off retorts from both Relias and Nora.

  With an oily smirk, Oliver snapped his fingers. Several stones in the center of the room lit up as violet runes burned on their surfaces. The magic circle’s coalescing circumference was just as large as the ones in Chairo, but it was packed with additional runes in a delicate script.

  “Very pretty,” I mumbled. “Nice handwriting.”

  Or magic-writing, or whatever.

  Relias glanced at the runes, his face paling slightly. “This bypasses the ley lines entirely!”

  Oliver tilted his head back and forth smugly. “You’re only half right—all known ley lines, by the Church’s knowledge, at any rate. I certainly didn’t want to alert Chairo about any personal sojourns.”

  I stared at the runes, unable to decipher any part of them. “But we still need to drop the barrier, don’t we? Otherwise…" I looked up. "You wouldn’t have been trapped here.”

  Oliver nodded, his smile disappearing.

  “And where does it lead to?” I asked curiously.

  “The Tower of Dark Mages.”

  “It no longer stands,” Relias scoffed. “And all runic circles—”

  “I assure you, the connecting circle was missed in the desecration.”

  “Is the Tower anywhere close to Paradise?” I asked Relias.

  “Of course not!” he retorted. “It’s too far out of our way. Let us continue the path we originally—”

  “A new staff,” Oliver suggested. “As adequate recompense for the one I destroyed?”

  Relias's eyes burned. "It was irreplaceable! That staff was crafted by a goldsmith of great renown over a thousand years ago—and the world has never seen such talent since!”

  “As a set of five—one for you and each councilperson,” Oliver replied as if tutoring a child. “And I assure you that Vetus’s is in their collection.”

  “Whose collection?” Relias demanded. “To steal such—”

  “The Dark Mages,” Oliver interjected.

  “There are no Dark Mages there!” Relias turned to me. “Captain! He is either blatantly lying, or completely unaware of worldly—”

  “Amos,” Oliver called. “Could you please come here? And bring Councilman Vetus’s Last Will and Testament? The real one.”

  Pleasantries? From him?

  Amos materialized sluggishly, his hand gripping several pieces of parchment.

  “Deliver them to the Sage,” Oliver ordered.

  Amos glanced at the seething sage and flinched.

  “You can hand them to me first,” I offered.

  Amos blinked out of view for a moment, then appeared before me, his hand already outstretched. “Captain.”

  Oliver watched as I took the sheets and murmured my thanks, his eyebrows knitting. Relias moved closer, and Amos disappeared in a startled puff of smoke.

  I scanned through a few pages, finding a summary of items. “It says Vetus’s staff was given to… Master Landon? Shouldn’t it have gone back to the Church?”

  “Authorized by Vicar Thomas,” Relias said, reading over my shoulder. “Ridiculous!”

  I kept reading and found a more detailed paragraph penned in the Vicar’s fine script. “To ensure that none unworthy of said holy relic would claim authority by simple procurement, I hereby temporarily entrust the Holy Staff of Councilman Lios to ex-Headmaster Landon, to be secured outside of the confines of Chairo until such time as a new Councilman of Lios is fairly elected and installed.”

  “This doesn’t mean that the staff is…” Relias trailed off.

  “Where else would a Dark Mage hide something important?” Oliver prompted. “You know that Old Wolf better than I do. He’d seal it in the underground research lab, under the watch of the new Headmaster.”

  Relias clenched his fists. “There is no underground—”

  “I paid for its expansion myself,” Oliver spat, his face full of contempt. “It would have been twice as big, had you given me my full payment up front!”

  My eyes widened. “That’s why you asked for all the gold?”

  Oliver sighed. “You insisted on protecting the Dark Mages, but you didn’t have a plan with any teeth. It was clear from the outset that they would be blamed for my actions.”

  I was right about him!

  “That action was beyond our contract! You went out of your way to save—”

  “I didn’t do it to be nice,” he scoffed. “So don’t paint me a hero. And we have journeyed down a road that does not lead to our intended destination.”

  “Alright,” I said with a sigh. “So, back to our escape.”

  “Captain, I strongly recommend we translocate to the Dark Mage Tower the moment the barrier drops.”

  Amos started to wring his hands. “Master… I’ll do it.”

  “Do what?” Nora asked, her eyes narrowing.

  “Distract the other lords and their subordinates,” Amos affirmed. “I’ll take the Crown of the Demon King and lead them on a chase while you escape.” He looked sheepishly at me. “I’m much better at running than fighting—the Captain can attest to that.”

  Nora glanced at Oliver, one eyebrow raised. “Interesting. You’re not wearing it?”

  “It’s atrociously oversized and covered in sharp thorns. No one with any sense would wear such a thing for any length of time.”

  I suppose any real-world allegory would be lost on him.

  “Amos, if you get caught…” I bit my lip.

  Amos shrugged even as his hands twitched. “I shall simply destroy myself and the—”

  “You will demand to speak with their respective lord and then hand the crown over while explaining you did not trust anyone except the true king to receive it,” Oliver interjected. “Understood?”

  “But the crown—”

  “Is irrelevant to me,” Oliver finished for him. “I can no longer protect you, so you must take advantage of any opportunity that presents itself. That’s my final order.”

  With a long exhale, Amos nodded. “Understood, Master. Let me gather our personal effects for our separate journeys.” He then phased out of view.

  “None of this addresses the barrier,” Relias objected, albeit in a quieter tone.

  “I’ll just have to fake my death,” Oliver concluded, looking up at the ceiling with a wry face. “I suppose blowing up my Sanctum would be a good way to start.”

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