Curselock

Chapter 215: Castle

Chapter 215: Castle

“Good work!” Spencer said on the other side of the portal. “And to answer your question, no, I do not believe there are any bombs in the city.”

Sitting on Leland’s shoulder, the big crow disappeared into the ether, returning to its home realm. For a first outing using Crow Massacre’s new “leader” evolution, he was pleasantly surprised with the crow’s ambition. They didn’t even need to communicate verbally, the crow knowing all of Leland’s thoughts as he had them.

“Why do you say that?” Carmon asked.

“I’ve opened a direct line of contact with High Inquisitor Rushwin. He says that there have been no reports from any of the Inquisitor teams of anything remotely looking like a bomb.”

“A line of communication, huh?”

“Lucia, Diana, and Roy are fighting with the royal guards and the Inquisitors stationed at the castle.”

That sparked Leland and Jude’s interest. “What? Why?”

“What happened to searching for the Sightless King?” asked Leland.

A wave of uncertainty overcame Spencer before he crushed and locked it away. “They tracked him to the castle. He’s hiding in the body of someone.”

“Who?” all three boys asked at the same time.

Even Isobel and Carmon looked frankly shocked by the statement.

“We... don’t know. A soldier, or guard. And we can’t find a safe way to oust him. Not with the horde of cultists rushing through the fog toward the castle.” Spencer paused for a moment. “Any ideas?”

For some reason, all eyes fell to Glenny, who just shook his head. “The Sightless King isn’t dumb or weak enough to allow me to find him through our... link.”

“Any idea what he’s waiting for, then?” Carmon asked.

“Don’t know,” Spencer replied. “Roy thinks he’s biding his time to assassinate our leaders. But that’s what he always thinks in these situations.”

Jude’s eyebrows fumbled inward. “This situation happens often?”

“More or less, though not quite the same.” Spencer’s attention went skewed as something happened across the city. A small portal opened just in front of his lips. “Roger that,” he said into the portal before it abruptly closed.

He turned to the others. “Rushwin’s team just infiltrated the cult’s main headquarters. The fog around the castle should be retreating soo—”

Spencer cut himself off, cursing under his breath. To the others, the room simply fell silent. To Spencer, thirteen Inquisitor lives had narrowly been saved by a quick flash of power. A portal to the upper atmosphere above Ivory Reach had been opened, and a blast of primordial magic shattered the sky. The Inquisitors, however, were fine.

Mutely, Spencer sipped tea from his parasitic item. “Close call there. Cultists do have bombs, at least ones tied to their fog machines.”

Carmon, the only one who knew what Spencer’s cup meant, watched him blankly. “Uh huh. And what are we to do now? The Witch is dead, that’s a third of the enemy’s forces.”

Leland wasn’t sure if he agreed the Witch had been worth a third, but he understood the sentiment. Without a dedicated teleporter, Ashford and the Sightless King’s steps were going to be on dirt rather than appearing from thin air.

“Don’t know. But the castle is still being evacuated,” Spencer replied. “They can use help. Most of the guards and Inquisitors are tackling the fog problem throughout the city. Estimates put the number of cultists in the tens of thousands.”

All three boys recoiled at the number. “No way.” “That’s impossible.” “How did they get so many?”

“These aren’t the converted citizens cultists,” Spencer reminded. “These are the main members of the cult. How they got to Ivory Reach? Now that is a good question, but I suspect the Pathways Witch had something to do with it.”

“Can we handle tens of thousands of enemies?” Jude asked.

Leland caught Isobel giving him a side glance. She went with it, saying, “We have been summoned. You know that, right?”

Levi bristled, hackles rising. “I do not like your tone, Huntress.”

“And I don’t like you.”

Cassie spoke before her partner could. “You lied to us, you know that right? Every question we ever asked you about Leland Silver, you lied. Why is that?”

Leland answered, “Because she knows you two don’t matter.”

“Exactly right,” Isobel said. “Why would I tell you two anything when I can talk to High Inquisitor Rushwin.”

“Like we already did,” Leland quickly added.

“Right again,” she mused. “So, let me ask you two again. You two know we have been summoned, and yet you still stand in our way. Are you the welcoming party or are you just tools Aunty P is using to gauge our temperament?”

“Because,” Leland cut in before either could respond, “if it is the latter, then we are just going to stroll right on by. There’s a war going on, after all, and we need to get back to it before too long.”

Both Inquisitors wore blank masks, though they both had shifted multiple times on their feet. Levi finally replied, “You may pass. But remember—”

“You are watching or some such. Yeah, yeah. Intimidation, blah, blah,” Isobel interrupted. Then she said to the open air, “You really need to revamp the Inquisitor play book. That’s just lazy.”

Levi and Cassie were trying to bore holes into her head with their stares.

Leland shrugged and stepped by. Isobel followed suit. The pack of guards parted, one even flinching as Leland stepped too close.

He eyed the armored many, and whispered, “I’m not that scary, am I?”

The question went unanswered as they walked past. Through the forest of bone fragments, the castle’s reinforced gate came into view. Tall enough for a giant to enter, thick enough to defend against one’s punch, and with enough runes and glyphs inscribed into the exterior to nullify most uses of magic.

Leland had been a kid the last time he was here. Back then, he was Legacy less, meaning he had no magic. So when he entered the castle’s anti-magic field, the shock of muted magic chilled his skin. He tried, and failed, to spark any kind of spell. Mana moved around his body with ease, though nothing came of it.

The gates parted for them to enter and a hulking behemoth of a man stood in their way. Silently he glanced from them to the side room, obviously stewarding the way to Aunty P.

“Good to see you again, Issac,” Isobel said to the man. “How’s castle detail?”

The man didn’t respond and only glared at her. She took the hint and followed Leland into the side room.

Fit with everything a multi-generational monarchy could hope to show off, the room was like a mirrored reality to the events unfolding outside. From intact and tablecloth covered tables, to folded napkins beside spotless knives and floral designed plates and bowls. There were no torn paintings, nor a speck of dust. The ground, while somewhat spotted from the sheer amount of foot traffic heading in and out of the room, was devoid of blood and bodies.

Well, partially at least.

There was blood on the floor, but it was hidden under Aunty P’s chair and behind a frown that could cause foreign heads of state to push for war.

Dressed in all black padded leather, Aunty P sat alone in the room at a fully set dining table. Her section of plates and cutlery had been pushed aside for stacks of papers and dozens of crumbled sections of parchment. Notes and reports, not that she cared to look at them. She knew everything they said, having heard the exchanges from grunt to officer to captain herself.

Blood seeped from a, now healed, cut along her forehead. Red streaked down into her eye and cheek, but she didn’t seem to mind. And while surprising, neither Leland nor Isobel cared to give it more than a cursory glance.

Not when Sybil was in the room.