Midnight Moon

Chapter 28 - Mages and Warriors

Calu's stomach flipped, triggering another wave of nausea. Out of all the Order members that could have come after them, why did it have to be the High Priestess' right-hand man, the most powerful of the Masters?

The Master came to a halt a few feet from the steps, appraising them with his unreadable eyes. "I honestly hadn't expected you to be able to access the Foretelling, let alone translate it." His gaze came to rest on Calu, sending shivers down his spine. "Consider me impressed by your initiative, Calu. Such esteemed company for the Princess."

Veanna had flinched at his arrival but stood tall now, composure intact and chin lifted proudly. "And whom do I have the honour of addressing?" she asked drily.

The man's lips twisted into a smile and his black eyes glittered as he gave a small bow. "Faltis, my dear. And may I say what a pleasure it is to meet you properly, when you are not in chains."

Veanna's jaw clenched, her wan cheeks coloured with a rush of scarlet. Tia shifted uneasily on the steps between the Princess and Faltis, her eyes tracking his every movement.

Neyerith redrew his daggers. "You're not getting your hands on her," he said in a low voice, positioned likewise in the Master's path.

Faltis raised an eyebrow. "Such loyalty from a Niskan informant."

"My past is my own," he replied steadily, though his eyes darkened, "And you're not taking her."

Faltis shook his head, tutting softly, and his unwavering gaze sent another shiver down Calu's spine. As a lowly Apprentice, Calu had mercifully escaped many interactions with the Master, yet he heard stories. How Faltis cast spells without ever flinching at the visions magic provoked, how he had risen through the ranks faster than any before him, how the man's only reaction to becoming second in command rather than High Priest had been a placid smile.

"I think we should let the Princess decide her fate herself," Faltis continued in his smooth, unnerving voice. His eyes focused on Veanna. "We don't want any unpleasantness, do we, my dear? Come with me now and you have my word I won't lay a finger on your... compatriots." His enduring calm was even more frightening than his threats.

Veanna's shoulders tightened. Calu wished he could scream at her to run, to get as far away from those glittering eyes as she could; the offer of their safety be damned. Yet his body was frozen in place, his tongue locked in silence.

"Thank you, but I didn't love the standard of living with the Order," she snarled, drawing her sword to reinforce her defiance.

Faltis sighed. "What a shame." He waved a hand languidly, sending a burst of purple light into the clouded sky.

Half a dozen figures in Order robes appeared around the ruins, the marks on their fluttering robes marking all as Masters or Adepts - the most powerful ranks of the Order. They made no move to approach the altar, but all had their hands open at their sides ready to fire the first shot.

Faltis turned back to Veanna's disdainful expression, his eyes narrowed and stony. "One last chance, my dear. Surrender quietly, unless you want us to go through your friends first."

Something that looked suspiciously like a skull sailed from Neyerith's hand as he gave a hollow laugh. "That's not going to happen."

"Have you no respect for the dead?" Tia hissed, her eyes fixed forward and her body visibly thrumming with her readiness for battle.

Neyerith shrugged. "It wasn't doing the dead guy any good."

"Enough!" Faltis snapped, his calm expression cracking and his smile slipping. The skull had crumbled to dust in a flash of red light with a flick of his wrist before it could hit him, and his eyes were colder than ever. He glanced at the mages behind him. "Take her."