Page 124 of The Mage and His Stolen Prince
He nodded, then grimaced as he fiddled with a black pendant around his neck. “Wilde’s power is strong and somewhat unpredictable, so I’ve had to wear it to prevent losing track of time.” He looked deep into my eyes as he said the next part, “Unfortunately, I can’t use any magic while I’m wearing it.”
I stared back at him, my heart pounding as my brain finally put together the pieces. “My father’s not the Lord of Grimnight anymore, is he?”
Before he could answer, a shudder went through all of us. The air became a frozen river, sluggishly flowing in the wrong direction.
Lucinda pulled out a pocket watch and murmured, “Oh no. He only set it back ten minutes.”
“He’s getting weaker,” Cyril confirmed. He grabbed my shoulder and ushered me to the door. “Find him before he burns the last embers of his magic. He’ll be in the throne room.”
He shoved me out the door.
The orc was no longer standing guard outside Wilde’s bedroom, called away by something else.
I raced down the stairs as fast as I could, my feet pounding out the same question over and over again:How do you defeat an evil mage?
Royal Champions Vs. Evil Minions: Round Two
An Hour Earlier
A Random Office in the Lord of Grimnight’s Evil Lair
Wrestling an Imp
The change from the throne room to the office was jarring enough to make Fitz’s head spin. He’d gone from holding onto the door, watching Maximus slowly fall to the ground, to holding a squirming imp. Fitz had just registered the loose ropes, not yet tied, wrapped around the imp when the little fiend turned its head and buried its teeth in his exposed hand.
“Fuck!” he dropped the imp.
Its fall stopped an inch from the floor, hovering in place as it freed its wings from the rope. “You’re rude,” it declared, waggling a clawed finger at Fitz.
“And you’re—” Fitz stared at the bite mark on his hand, the blood draining from his face “—venomous.”
Maximus lost his hold on the other two imps, who flew out of his arms the moment they escaped. They floated near the ceiling, blowing raspberries and shouting taunts.
“Let’s get out of here before the guards come,” Maximus said, grabbing Fitz’s arm and pulling him toward the door.
“I don’t care about the guards right now! I need antivenom!” Fitz waved his hand at Maximus’ face. The tiny punctures had already turned red and swollen.
“There’s some in Wilde’s room,” the pink imp offered.
Its companions cried foul and chased the pink imp around the room, giggles and shrieks overlapping each other.
Maximus looked from Fitz’s injured hand to the hall, his expression pained.
The hesitation annoyed Fitz and he nudged Maximus forward. “I’ll search for Wilde’s room—”
“It’s on the third floor!”
“Stop helping!”
“—for antivenom.”
“What if you’re caught?” Maximus asked.
Fitz sighed in exasperation. “Then I’ll rattle off every rule for taking captives I can think of until I convince someone to bring me antivenom. Yes, I’ll be a prisoner, but it’s still better than dying from some feral fiend’s bite.”
“I am notferal!” the imp protested. “I amdomesticated!”
“I’ll end this quickly,” Maximus promised, then raced down the hall.
