Page 107 of The Mage and His Stolen Prince
“You baby them too much,” the orc scolded.
I glared at him, then remembered I was wearing a hood that blocked my face. I raised it a few inches so he could appreciate the glare.
He straightened and said, “My apologies, your dark eminence. I spoke out of turn.” That should have been the end of it, but he added, “But they’re fiends, you know. Not pets or children. Names like ‘Mimsy’ don’t suit them.”
“They named themselves.”
That revelation stumped him into silence.
With uninvited adventurers running about, I left him to guard the upstairs floor.
After the curse broke, the forest stopped trying to overtake the lair. That didn’t mean the trees and other plant growth disappeared overnight. I expected the stairs to be the same tripping hazard they’d always been, but some of the minions had taken it upon themselves to clean. All that remained was a bit of ivy wrapped around the rail and some sprouts tucked into the corners of each step.
It was a long walk downstairs, and I regretted my decision not to teleport. I’d thought hiking through the woods for the past few days would give me better stamina. Perhaps that would have been the case if I hadn’t spent half the night with Treasure.
I paused halfway down the second flight of stairs to catch my breath.This is simply embarrassing.Once the royal champions ‘defeated’ me, I would have to take up a new exercise regime, in case I needed to play the villain again in the future.
The cloak wasn’t helping. The whole thing captured heat and kept it close to my body. And I couldn’t take it off or the adventurers would see my red, sweaty face—the worst possible first impression. The minute my uninvited guests left, I’d wash up and change into something more breathable.
Two guards stood at the base of the stairs, one lacertian and one orc. As I stepped between them, they flanked me on either side, walking exactly one step behind me.
The captains themselves waited outside of the throne room. Fyodor carried a huge club over one shoulder while Sisyph held a spear at the ready.
“According to the imps, these aren’t the right adventurers,” Fyodor said.
I nodded sharply. “I didn’t expect two groups at the same time.”
“What’s the plan?” Sisyph asked, his scaled face pinched with displeasure. “Incompetence? Intimidation? Fight to the death?”
Fyodor’s tusks framed his wicked smile. “I could use a good fight.”
Killing adventurers probably went against Delilah’s plan to turn me ‘good’ through the power of love and friendship. “Intimidation only. If they get out of hand, I’ll deal with them.” I always had the option to remove them from the dimension, though I would prefer it if they left on their own.
The captains bowed their heads in acceptance, though I caught a shared look between them. Judging my decision or silently plotting a backup plan between themselves? Hopefully the latter. I didn’t have time to squash a mutiny before the royal champions arrived.
I nodded to Fyodor to open the door. He and Sisyph counted to three under their breaths, then threw the doors open. They joined me as I strode into the room so that four guards flanked me, spreading out into a V shape.
I had a few seconds to observe the adventurers before they reacted to my presence. Two men and two women, an even mix. I immediately knew which one the guard had deterred—an old man with black paint all over his face and a scraggly beard. Both women had black hair, though one was bronze while the other was pale. Both were dressed in fashion better suited for a ballroom than a quest. The bronze woman was dressed head to toe in pink. The pale woman was dressed in a mix of dark blues and purples. She leaned her head against the other man’s shoulder, her arms tightly wound through his. Her loving smile promised hidden mischief.
The last man I recognized, and his presence made me stop short. Dark hair liberally streaked with silver, slicked back into a stylish tousle. A well-kept gray beard framed his mouth, ending in a perfectly trimmed point.
The Prince of Shadows.
Why are ‘adventurers’ traveling with an evil mage?Then again, the royal champions spent a week with me without knowing my identity. Perhaps it was the same here.
“Why do you seek the Lord of Grimnight?” Fyodor’s booming voice echoed through the throne room. My former master, who’d spent weeks trying and failing for a similar effect, would have fumed in jealousy.
The old man stepped forward and jabbed an accusing finger at me. “You are not the Lord of Grimnight! You are only a rogue apprentice meddling with magic beyond your comprehension!This—” he fumbled in his cloak “—is the Lord of—” patted down his pants. “Where … where did itgo?”
“Looking for something?” the prince drawled, pulling a pink tower crystal from his own pocket.
The old man’s eyes widened, and he lunged for the crystal. “Give that back! That is property of the Good Wizard’s Council!”
I narrowed my eyes, trying to see beyond the black face paint and hair dye. The only time I’d met the ‘Good Wizard’ was when I’d stopped him from interfering with the master’s plot. Since wizards were tricky adversaries, I hadn’t bothered to face him in open challenge. I’d snuck up on him from behind and knocked him out. He looked different enough without the trappings of his profession that I probably wouldn’t have recognized him even without the disguise.
The prince smiled at the Good Wizard. “Property ofacouncil, yes, but notyourcouncil.” Shadows wrapped around the crystal, and it disappeared. He could have done that at any time without the Good Wizard noticing. He’d done it now to make a point.
Fury made the Good Wizard’s eye twitch, and he whirled around to face me again. “Your master is imprisoned, that’s all that matters! Yourevil plot ends here!”
