31. Enemies Abound

 “They got Rhiya!”

“We need a healer!”

“Hells, there are more of them. Look out!”

Amongst the kneeling hostages, more people were rising: shop assistants and patrons — or, Lux, suspected, people who had until now been playing those roles.

Each new ambusher ‘twisted’ in the same way as the first, gaining the same harlequin armour. Gauntleted hands flicked, pulling obsidian weapons from pockets in space. The bandits at the room’s perimeter loosed their bows, and the world exploded into glittering death.

Lux pulled his cheek from the ground with a sticky shlorp. Viscous blood had pooled all around the late revolutionary, her maul fallen useless beside her. The armoured figure stepped over Lux without a second look, flicking the blood from its blade with a practiced gesture.

An axe-wielding bandit rushed the ambusher with a roar. The armoured figure twisted under the swing with practiced ease, allowing the blade to gouge the glass floor. They delivered a steel kick to the axe bandit as he tugged on the stuck weapon, sending him to the floor. For a naïve moment, Lux thought it was a non-lethal takedown. That was, until the figure’s black dagger found the bandit’s neck.

Up close, the weapon looked horribly familiar. Lux recalled Vozloc’s cottage, and the lab hidden underneath. It was hard to forget the bloody scene they’d discovered: Vozloc’s body double, impaled by an identical dagger.

“Hey!” he called to the already-retreating figure. “Where did you get that-”

If not for countless hours of training, he would never have dodged the figure’s backswing. The dagger traced an arc in front of his nose in an instant. Lux stumbled back, tripping over a display case and turning it to smithereens with his backside.

His attacker raised their dagger to attack again, when a thunderous CRACK snapped their head back. The mystery attacker turned their dented helmet, and began to stalk in the direction of the shot.

“No witnesses.” The figure’s voice was hollow and warped as they called out to their allies.

Lux moved to follow, but an explosion had him ducking for cover. Whether it had come from the bandits, the armoured figures or his own team didn’t matter — it certainly wouldn’t discriminate in torching him. He scrambled on his hands and knees, ducking under whizzing crossfire and stinging debris. He crawled under a display table, searching vainly for his companions. When he finally rose to his feet, he nearly crashed into a stocky bandit.

“Another one here!” the man called to his crewmates. “It’s a damned ambush!”

“You’ve got the wrong idea-”

Lux had less than a moment to defend his innocence before he found himself lifted bodily above the man’s head. Then, for a blissful second, he was floating, until he crashed through a glass table.

Lux rolled onto his back, spitting necklaces. Caela’s face entered his vision, coal-black strands of hair ticking his nose.

“We have to do something!” she yelled, struggling to string her bow while ducking another hail of arrows. “They’re being slaughtered!”

She wasn’t wrong. The bandits’ attacks just bounced off the scaly armour of the harlequin soldiers, who stalked forwards to cut down their foes with cold precision. More senseless bloodshed, and more threats to his friends. It was unacceptable.

Lux scrambled up, thrusting out his hand and counting his fluttering heartbeat.

One.

A smoky line hissed out of his palm.

Two.

Liquid light covered the skeleton, forming the shape of a sword.

Three.

Lux waded into battle, bodies and missiles flying across his path. An armoured figure blocked his path, trading blows with him using a thin black rapier. Lux found the smallest opening in between parries and drove his shoulder into their sternum. They were considerably lighter than him, staggering back in apparent pain. Then a turquoise blur side-swiped them: Freija, in the shape of a moose. She thundered across the floor, stomping cracks into the glass and narrowly avoiding trampling Johannes. When she skidded to a stop, the enemy kept going, smashing through the far window and tumbling into the abyss.

Johannes looked from the window to the other armoured figures, locked in combat with his allies and the insurgents. He scratched a few symbols into the floor with his cane, and holes opened underneath three enemies. They dropped through like stones — though, just as Lux was about to celebrate, he saw each of them touch a support beam with their gauntleted hands and instantly adhere to its smooth surface. They scuttled up the beam like spiders, skittering across the underside of the glass to climb back through the holes and rejoin the fight.

Lux had been spectating too long. A bandit, clearly unable to distinguish friend from foe, levelled their crossbow at him. Lux dropped behind a nearby table, finding Ash cowering underneath with her knees up to her chin. She jumped, then looked to him with trembling relief. She was clearly terrified.

“Lux, w-what’s going on?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“Honestly? No idea.”

“But they’re killing the bystanders too…”

“I know.”

“But-”

“Look, Ash,” Lux said, losing patience. “I’m as confused as you are, and I’m real sorry we dragged you into this mess. But for now you need to stop asking questions, get up, and kill something!”

Steel claws bit into his shoulders. Lux was dragged up by a masked figure, wrestling to keep their knife away from his face. They grappled back and forth. For once, Lux found himself with the size advantage. He dragged them over, body-slamming them on the centre of the mosaic with the full force of his weight.

He heard a sharp crack, and thought for a dreadful moment that he’d broken their spine.

Of course, it was actually something much worse. With a shearing creak, cracks burst across the glass, and the entire section of floor gave way.

Lux and the figure beneath him plummeted into open air. Their wind-whipped screams blended together, as his target beat frantically against his grip. Cold seeped into his cuts as the hot blood seeped out, turning his skin numb.

In the end, the sheer distance of the fall saved him. Four storeys and he would’ve been paste before he could think. But four hundred? That was enough time to get his bearings, summon the smoky skeletons of wings, and flood them with golden feathers.

Lux banked out of the dive, releasing his prey from his talons. The armoured figure’s distorted cry was quickly lost as they hurtled down into the restricted zone around Aegiswood’s roots. When they were a few dozen feet from the ground, there was a purple flash as they were vapourised.

No less than they deserve. Damn lot better than having your throat cut.

He soared into the air, taking in the indescribable majesty of the forest around him. Detail seemed to vanish into the wider picture, huge trees becoming nothing but innumerable green dots on nature’s canvas.

He banked around to get a view of the shop.

Caela stood over Ash’s prone form, hair flying about her face. One of the enemies was a hedgehog of arrows, cleaving a path through the debris with an onyx sword. A shot pinned their foot to the floor, causing them to stagger. With a fatigued swing, the figure sliced off the fletching and yanked itself free.

Another stalked Freija through the rubble. With no water, no plants, no sky, she looked completely at a loss. A swing came close to shearing her cerulean mane, causing her to shrink from moose to mouse and scurry away. Lux winced, imagining how her paws felt on the glass-strewn floor.

Lux descended upon the open window, chose his landing strip, and gritted his teeth.

Just like sailing into port. Easy does it…

He tucked his wings as he crossed the threshold, rolling to a stop just before the hole. He leapt up, finding himself standing back-to-back with Kazzik. Kazzik’s dark hair was lank against his sweat-beaded forehead as he summoned chain after chain to bind the two approaching foes. Each time one was restrained, the other would quickly wrench it free. They circled the two young men with ill intent glittering in their obsidian weaponry.

“What in the hells is going on, Kaz?!” Lux cried, jabbing defensively.

“Dunno,” came the hoarse reply. “Some kind of plain-clothes security guards, I guess.”

Lux harried at one swordsman as they tried to free their ally.

“Ain’t this overkill?” he asked. Kazzik was focusing on his tome and the corresponding hand motions. 

“That’s an understatement,” he replied distractedly, pulling another chain from the aether. “This is like your butler laying bear traps to catch mice. Whatever they’re protecting runs far deeper than shiny bracelets.”

Kazzik’s hand spasmed suddenly. As he clutched it with a hiss of pain, the chains shattered, and Lux was suddenly flanked by two foes. He braced himself.

In the distance, a horn sounded, followed by the sound of an approaching crowd. The helmeted enemies froze, looking towards the one covered in arrows. They considered for a second, twisting their bloody dagger, before barking in that hollow tone:

“We’re out of time. Let’s go.”

As one, they dashed over to the hole in the floor, and jumped through. Lux moved to the edge, watching them scamper down the side of the tree and vanish behind a buttress.

He turned to see the entrance barricade tip over with an almighty crash. A trio of guards flew through the breach, wearing the breastplate and clear visor of the Nephelauts. They hovered in place, boots wreathed in fluffy clouds. The leader, marked out with a crimson plume, drew his scimitar and raised it threateningly.

Lux was about to respond in kind when a familiar steely voice rang out:

“Don’t worry, Captain, he’s one of mine.”

Valerios stepped through the breach, followed by Maurice, Marcel, and Sergeant Larioc. He gave Lux a rocky grin.

The Captain sheathed his sword and gestured to the other Nephelauts. They glided over the mess, checking on the casualties and clapping manacles on the bandits. Lux found himself led outside with the others, where a score of other guards were marshalling the crowd of onlookers.

“Damned carnage,” the Captain said, watching a pair of guards carry a bloody corpse from the wreckage. “Your friends did a creditable job fighting these savages, but if you hadn’t alerted us when you did, Mister Valerios, the number of casualties could’ve been much higher.”

Valerios bowed his head humbly.

“I was simply doing my civic duty. In truth, it was Sergeant Larioc here and his men. They knew how to alert the Nephelauts for backup.”

The three guards shrank under their superior’s critical gaze, but he nodded finally.

“Very good. I’ll bear that in mind. First, we need to deal with these damned New Leafers.”

“Who?” Valerios asked.

“Damned insurgents.” The Captain was grim. “They’ve been carving a trail of destruction and sabotage across Aegiswood for a while. No doubt they were hoping to rob the shop to finance their operations.”

He shrugged.

“Your people cut down a handful of the crooks — not that I can blame them, of course. We’ll take in the survivors for questioning.”

Lux squeezed into their circle.

“Sorry, but there’s something you should know,” he said, looking first to Valerios, then to the Captain. “We didn’t kill those bandits.”

He pressed on through the surprised stares.

“There were people in armour hidden amongst the staff and the guests. They butchered the bandits, and tried to kill all the witnesses as well.”

The Captain frowned. “I don’t follow. Were they on your side or the bandits? Where are they now?"

Lux looked around vainly, but he already saw the shape of the conversation.

“Freija got one, and so did I, but they fell off the edge,” he said uneasily. And the rest fled.”

“Are you feeling alright, son?” the Captain asked. “You have had a shock…”

“But-”

There was a stirring in the crowd behind the Captain. An unfamiliar voice, smooth and cool, rang out.

“I’ll take it from here, Captain.”

The three men turned to see a young man, broad-shouldered for an elf, with coppery hair feathered like a phoenix’s plumage. His vestments were humble, threadbare even, but he carried himself with a leonine sense of easy superiority.

At last, Lux caught snatches of the crowd’s excited susurration.

“It’s him!”

“The Prince!”

“He’s back!”

The Captain’s eyes nearly bulged from his head.

“Prince Belastre!” he blurted out. “Your Highness, I’d heard you’d taken a… leave, of absence-”

“Nothing to worry about, old boy,” Belastre chortled, clapping him companionably on the shoulder. “I’m back — and just in time, too. I saw the whole thing unfold.”

He shook Valerios’ hand vigorously, then took Lux’s own hand in his confident grip. His eyes sparkled with practiced enchantment.

“Nice work against those criminals. You really saved the day.”

“There were others…” Lux tried again, but Belastre shook his head ruefully.

“You’re disoriented, and no wonder — the New Leafers gave you a few nasty bumps. But there’s no evidence of anyone else being involved, so it would be best not to cause any more confusion. Get some rest, friend, and forget this whole ordeal.”

But Lux knew what he’d seen. He and Valerios approached Caela and Ash, who were checking each other for scrapes. Freija and Kazzik joined their huddle.

“Uri went into that Mage College shop,” he explained to Valerios. “It looked completely normal, but it was being guarded by these elite fighters, without any heraldry.”

Ash shifted nervously. “The Mage College… can’t have anything to do with this. They’d never allow anyone to use their stuff for evil.”

“There’s more,” Lux said, choosing to let the previous statement lie. “They were using black glass weapons. Just like whoever attacked Vozloc’s cottage. His old bosses.”

Caela brought out the knife Hellebore had looted from the cottage. It was identical to the ones being wielded by the harlequin knights.

Valerios looked troubled. “Why would the Prince deny they were there? Perhaps he didn’t witness as much as he claimed, in order to exaggerate his involvement?”

“He was there, though!” Caela said, surprised at herself. “He was at Uri’s shop, just before we got there. He was wearing a cloak, but it was definitely the same man.”

“A royal doesn’t need to sneak around their own Sarciel,” Freija said. “Not unless they’re up to something.”

“I think we need to ask our princely pal some questions,” Kazzik said. “And speaking of questions, where the hell is Johannes?”