The journey to Azzellia was slow. There had been heavy rains, which slowed them down as the roads got muddy and supplies got stuck. Arturo didn’t mind, for he was dreading his return to Azzellia. Part of him wanted to go home to see how it had recovered after the raid over four years ago, but he knew he wouldn’t go back. All that was left for him in Arindall were bad memories, a reminder of a time when he had been happy.

  “It’s like you’re invincible. You know you aren’t, yet you can’t shake the feeling you are,” Tarmon was saying to Achillion, who had asked him what it felt like to use the power.

  “Invincible, eh?” Achillion said, twirling a knife in his hand. “Sounds dangerous.”

  “Dangerous? Sure, if you don’t know what you’re doing,” Tarmon said.

  “Do you know what you are doing?” Jen teased.

  Tarmon’s face began to turn red as he placed his right hand on the back of his head. “Well, the basics. I’m no mage, that’s for sure.”

  “Not yet,” Achillion said.

  Tarmon rolled his eyes. “I will never be a mage. If given the chance, a mage would capture me and strip me of the power, most likely.”

  “Not if I have anything to say about it,” Arturo said.

  “You can’t protect me forever,” Tarmon said.

  Arturo said nothing, knowing that statement was true. He couldn’t be around Tarmon all the time, and if a mage happened to come across him when he wasn’t around, Tarmon wouldn’t stand a chance.

  “Practice then,” Achillion said.

  “It’s not that easy,” Tarmon said.

  “It never is. That’s why it’s practice,” Achillion said.

  “Quiet!” Jen said, prompting the three to look at her. She was gazing at a nearby treeline.

  “What? See a bear?” Achillion said.

  “Shut up,” Jen said, shooting him an annoyed look. “It was an Azzellia scout.”

  “You’re seeing things,” Arturo said.

  “I saw what I saw,” Jen said.

  “Why would Azzellia have a scout out here?” Arturo asked.

  “I don’t know!” Jen said, waving her arms.

  “Well, it doesn’t concern us. We’ll keep moving,” Arturo said.

  The others quieted down. Arturo didn’t like an Azzellia scout being this close to him and his men. The only reason a scout would be this far out was if there was an army nearby. If there was an army nearby, that meant a battle. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know who the battle would be between. He had a feeling he knew who it was, and the suspicion did not make him feel better.

  A day had passed since Talon left. None of Corvin’s scouts had been able to locate the king. The armies had marched back to camp, leaving only a small force to keep an eye on each other. Any attempt to send an envoy had been rejected.

  Part of him wanted to attack, but that would put Talon’s life at risk. Attacking up a hill would be suicide, especially with their current numbers. Talon hadn’t brought his full army, and that was biting him in the butt now.

  Corvin leaned back in the chair he was sitting in. He had barely slept and had drunk far too much coffee. If he didn’t hear anything from Talon or speak with Harold, he would attack within the day. He had started to form plans to begin at night, sending a small force to start a fire and try to bait the enemy into attacking him. The only chance he had at victory was if the enemy attacked him.

  Attacking would put Talon’s life at risk, but how long could he reasonably wait? For all he knew, Harold would sneak Talon out of the camp. His scouts hadn’t seen anyone leave the camp, so at least he knew the king was still here.

  “Sir,” Ivorn said, standing at the entrance of the tent.

  “What is it?” Corvin asked.

  “We’ve scouted a small army of around two hundred or so soldiers fifteen miles to the east,” Ivorn said.

  “A small army? Did you see who was leading them?” Corvin asked.

  “It looks like a large man with a giant sword was leading them. I don’t know who they fight for, as there weren’t any banners,” Ivorn said.

  A stroke of luck? Corvin thought. Arturo Pentori. A gifted warrior who could help him turn the tides. He had worked with the man before to rescue some rogue power users. Perhaps he could convince him to help.

  The tent opened again when a messenger entered, a look of urgency on his face. “More news?” Corvin asked.

  “King Harold wants to speak with you,” the messenger said.

  About time. Corvin stood, making sure to keep his cool demeanor. He couldn’t look flustered in front of the men. That was a rule he always had: look confident, or his men would lose theirs. “Ivorn, grab a few men you trust and speak to this army. See if you can arrange for their leader to speak with me. His name should be Arturo Pentori.”

  “Understood, sir,” Ivorn said.

  The messenger remained in place as Ivorn hurried past him. “Take me to the king,” Corvin said.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  He barely made it out of the tent when Lady Tyleen walked up to him with a fierce gaze. “Do you think it’s smart to meet with Harold? He might capture you like Talon,” she said.

  “I don’t think this is a trap,” Corvin said and kept walking, ignoring the flustered look she gave him. He suspected that Harold was going to tell him what was going on with Talon. Nothing else would make sense.

  Corvin was surprised when he walked out of the camp towards the battlefield and saw King Harold sitting on a chair, with two guards by his side. There was a small table, with a pitcher of wine. He turned to the two nearest soldiers he saw and ordered them to come with him. Then he walked to the table.

  Neither Harold nor Corvin spoke a word until Corvin sat down. Harold looked confident. There wasn’t a single sign of concern, which confirmed his suspicions that Talon was captured. No king would be so calm otherwise. He hoped to find out how.

  “Wine?” Harold asked.

  “No,” Corvin said.

  Harold shrugged and poured himself a glass, trying to hide a faint smile as he took a sip. “You must have questions.”

  Corvin said nothing. He wouldn’t play Harold’s game and waited patiently for the king to speak.

  “Your reputation precedes you. Some say nothing can get beneath your skin. Very well,” Harold set his cup down and met Corvin’s gaze. “Your king was captured by the mages and is being transported to Mortham Tower as we speak.”

  Mages? That makes sense. Corvin didn’t so much as blink and pretended as if this news was expected. “None of my men saw anyone leave your camp. How can I know you’re telling the truth?” he said.

  “The mages used something to make their wagon invisible and told me to wait twenty-four hours before speaking with you. Talon is long gone, and you will never see him again,” Harold said.

  There was no doubt in Corvin’s mind that Harold was telling the truth. The confidence and not a single thing to make him think he was lying. There was only one way to save Talon, and he wasn’t sure it would be enough. Perhaps Tarmella was aiding him with the sudden appearance of Arturo and his army, though Arturo would be the only one who could rescue the king.

  One thing Corvin knew for sure was that the mages couldn’t portal. One day had passed since they left, leaving them at least four days until passing the barrier preventing them from using a portal. Even if Arturo agreed to help, how could the man catch up? He doubted the mages were taking their time.

  “I know you are thinking about how to rescue your king. It’s impossible. There are ten mages. Four more arrived shortly after Talon’s capture. We have other things to discuss,” Harold said.

  “Like what?” Corvin asked, pretending to be interested.

  “I want Azzellia, and I would rather take the nation without bloodshed. I want you to take your army, go back to Carhan, and pronounce yourself king. You will swear fealty to me, and nobody has to die,” Harold said.

  “I’m not interested in becoming king,” Corvin said.

  “You don’t have much of a choice. If you refuse to do as I say, you and your men will die. My army is bigger than yours. Surely you see there is no chance of victory?”

  “I won’t surrender,” Corvin said.

  The cocky fa?ade slipped from Harold’s face, replaced with visible anger. A vein popped up on his forehead. “You’ll condemn your men to a pointless death? There is nothing you can do to save Talon and no way to save Azzellia, not when I have the mage's backing!”

  “I’ll repeat what I said since you clearly didn’t hear me,” Corvin said, seeing Harold’s face redden. “I will not surrender.”

  Harold stood, his chair falling to the ground. “You have two days to change your mind and don’t try to run or I’ll run you down!” Without another word, Harold walked back to his camp with his two guards.

  Two days? Corvin wasn’t stupid. Harold was planning something and he needed two days to pull it off. He needed to figure out a solution on how to rescue Talon today for any chance of salvaging this situation. If nothing changed soon, Talon would be lost to him forever, along with Azzellia.

  Arturo, Jen, Tarmon, Achillion, and Eurisha walked into the Azzellia camp. Arturo’s army had stopped three miles away from the camp while the five of them followed the Azzellian messenger, who said Corvin wanted to talk to him.

  Jen and Arturo had talked about what to do if Corvin asked them to fight, and Arturo had decided he wouldn’t join, at least not with his army. He had barely left Eshil Domain, and the last thing he wanted to do was side with Azzellia on a dispute that shouldn’t involve him. Besides, he would lose a quarter of his men, maybe more, as fighting against Eshil Domain was against everything he had said his army was: The Shields of Aidris, not the Shield of Azzellia.

  Still, he wouldn’t refuse a meeting. There was no telling what Corvin might want. From his walk, he had seen both armies, and it was obvious Eshil Domain had the bigger army. “In here,” the Azzellian soldier, Ivan, said.

  Arturo was the first to enter the tent, with the others behind him. Sitting on a chair was the commander, Corvin Malice. There were no guards in here, which surprised him. Most commanders or nobles always had guards, especially when meeting with strangers.

  “Thank you for coming,” Corvin said.

  “What do you want?” Arturo asked.

  “Straight to the point, I like that,” Corvin stood and stepped in front of his desk. “King Talon was taken by the mages yesterday.”

  “Then he’s already at Mortham Tower. What do you want us to do about it?” Jen asked.

  Not what I expected. Corvin wanted his help against the mages once more. Jen wasn’t wrong; the mages would have taken Talon straight to Mortham Tower, and he wasn’t stupid enough to think he could rescue anyone who made it there.

  “The mages can’t portal out of here for at least another four days. That would give you four days to catch up and rescue Talon,” Corvin said. “You’re the only one who can.”

  “How did you find out about my armor?” Arturo asked.

  “I have my sources that saw your armor and recognized it as a special artifact, created to protect the user from the power. That said, would you go after Talon?” Corvin asked.

  “He was captured yesterday? How long?” Arturo asked.

  “A little over twenty-four hours.”

  “Then I have no chance at catching him. That’s too far of a head start, especially with only four days,” Arturo said.

  Corvin nodded slightly. “You may be right. I’ll pay you a good amount to try. We can’t let the mages get him to Mortham Tower.”

  “There’s no way I can rescue him,” Arturo repeated.

  “You should accept that Talon is gone and prepare a new king,” Jen said.

  “It’s not that easy,” Corvin said. “Talon is our only chance at beating the invaders. If we can’t save him, then we stand no chance when we’re invaded, and Harold will take over Azzellia.”

  “How can one king be so important? Is he that arrogant?” Arturo asked. It was great that one king was taking this threat seriously, but he was only one man.

  “You’re hiding something,” Jen said.

  “I am,” Corvin hesitated for a moment. “I suppose it won’t hurt telling you, not now. Talon can use the power.”

  “What?” Tarmon burst out, his jaw widening slightly.

  “That explains why the mages took him,” Jen said.

  “There’s more,” Corvin said. “Talon recruited a secret army of power users that are being trained to fight in the upcoming war. The mages will get their location and destroy them.”

  Arturo frowned. His initial reaction was to say no, but now he wanted to help Talon. If someone was trying to prepare for the invaders, then perhaps he would get his chance to not only kill Kyrad but help drive them out. “Even with that information, there’s no way for us to catch up, and I would be the only one who could fight, and I don’t know how that would go, even with my armor.”

  “I agree. Would you remain here for a couple of days?” Corvin asked.

  “Why?” Jen asked suspiciously.

  “It’s a long shot, but I am hoping one of the Ashtari checks out what’s going on here.”

  “Will I be paid?” Arturo asked, feeling a little guilty at the question, but he wanted something out of this if he was staying here for a couple of days.

  Corvin nodded. “And if we rescue Talon, I promise your reward will be substantial.”

  “Then I’ll stay. I’ll ride out to my army to give them the situation and come back here,” Arturo said. He motioned for the others to follow. This was a mess. If Corvin hadn’t told him Talon was preparing a force against the invaders, he would have left regardless of the pay. But he couldn’t turn his back on the one king in Aidris that was working to fight off the Durmaddons.