Moments later, Sebastian awoke in her arms. "How does it feel?" she asked him.
He gave her a tired but elated smile. "Amazing."
She smiled back at him. He sat up, feeling a little dizzy for a few moments, but fine overall. Meanwhile, the Land Wight towered over them in its tree form, leaves and flowers blossoming on its limbs as if it were the peak of spring.
"Well, it looks like someone is happy," Ciardis said with a soft smile.
Sebastian laughed before he said, "It is—I can feel it. Already its power grows. Right now I'm just bolstering it, but soon I should be able to monitor certain land activities myself, leaving the Land Wight free to guard the realm."
"All right, then." Ciardis got up and dusted herself off, then leaned forward to put her hand on the Land Wight's trunk. It immediately sent her its joy...and thanks. She sent back waves of satisfaction in return. Turning to Sebastian, she said, "I think it's time we left."
Nodding, he turned and said his own private goodbye to the Land Wight.
As she started walking back toward the platform, Sebastian called out, "Wait. There's an exit from the mountain in this room." Sebastian indicated the far wall with a tilt of his head. "There's a portal down the passageway that will take us out, back to the mortal realm. We've been here far too long anyway."
"Right," Ciardis said, stifling a yawn. "I have no idea what I'll tell my sponsor when I get back."
Sebastian shrugged. "The truth might not hurt. Just say you were with one of your patron candidates."
Ciardis let out an undignified snort. "Right! I guess I can do that."
Grinning, he threw an arm around her shoulders and they proceeded to exit the chamber side-by-side, the tree blossoming behind them; alone again, but not forgotten.
They walked up a tunnel with a steep incline, and soon they saw the portal way up ahead. It was literally built to span the tunnel, like a pool of shimmering light, and was the only way out. Ciardis asked, "You do know where this will take us, right?”
"It should take us right back to where we started in the maze," he said. "Your anklet will direct it."
They walked forward, and this time she didn't feel the stomach-twisting tug of magic, but rather a swirl of power—almost as if they were in a magical whirlpool.
When they arrived, the first thing Ciardis noticed was that they were not in the maze.
They stood in a room before a group of people that Ciardis was quite unfamiliar with—that is, if she didn't count her ticked-off sponsor and tutorials instructor standing in the huddle of nobility. After glancing at Serena and Damias, Ciardis couldn't help but gawk at the other fifteen or so people who crowded the room, all of who wore the finest court dress.
A man cleared his throat; he wore the badge of the Gardis and had an imposing stature, and he stood at attention before Sebastian. His dark brown eyes didn’t twitch, and not a muscle moved on his dark skin as he calmly announced, “The Prince has returned. All Hail Prince Sebastian Athanos Algardis.”
“All Hail,” came the quiet murmur from the surrounding courtiers. Stepping forward, he clasped Sebastian’s hand in his own as he leaned toward him and whispered, “It’s good to see you alive, my Prince. When even your mind link disappeared, we feared the worst.”
Sebastian nodded sharply. “Yes, I should have thought of that. I hope Allora wasn’t too concerned, Commander.”
The commander said nothing, merely stepped back with a bow and turned to face north once more.
With a groan, Ciardis met the eyes of Patricia, whose gloating could not be ignored. You’re in trouble now, came the telepathic taunt, laced with vindictive amusement.
Ciardis, covered in dirt and tired as all hell, pulled back her lips in what could charitably be called a smile, but most would read as the bared teeth of an animal ready to bite.
Ciardis noticed Patricia’s perfectly coiffed hair and beautiful rose-colored gown, wondering, ‘Why is she wearing her second day outfit? It shouldn’t be worn until tomorrow’s Hunt.’
And then she looked around at the lords and ladies gathered, embarrassed at her abrupt entrance, not to mention her disheveled appearance.
What must they think of me? Out all night...with a patron.
But they weren’t staring at her; no, they were all staring through Ciardis and Sebastian with the looks of disdain that the nobility usually reserved for those special moments whenever they stepped in horse droppings.
Self-consciously, Ciardis looked down at herself. She knew she was covered in dust and dirt, and her hair must be a tangled mess. But that didn't quite explain their stone-cold reception.
Finally, Serena looked her dead in the eye, gave her an icy glare and the hand signal to bow deeply.
Ciardis hesitantly did what she asked, and a harsh whisper echoed from one of the gathered nobles. "Turn around, you fools."
Ciardis looked to Sebastian, who had turned pale. Interesting—he looks like he swallowed a grape and it went down the wrong way. He was that gray. Together, they mentally decided to do as commanded and turned their backs to the crowd, hoping not to get shot in the back with an irritated bolt of lightning from a highly-strung duke standing in the back corner.
As soon as she did, she saw the reason her sponsor was furious, and the reason she was never going to live this down.
A haughty man stood in front of them wearing resplendent court robes, an aloof expression, and the crown of an emperor.
Ciardis fell to her knees and huddled on the floor, wishing it would swallow her up—or, at the very least, that her dirty hair would untwist from the tangle of braids and hide her flaming face. Sebastian wasn't so servile, but he did swiftly drop to one knee.
"My son, welcome back to Court," the Emperor said upon turning his gaze to the Prince Heir.
"Thank you, Father," Sebastian said as he stood pulling Ciardis up with him by her elbow. Ciardis was fairly sure she heard an audible gasp from Serena’s direction. She didn’t dare look; she would never live this down.
She also resented Sebastian’s insistence that she stand up. She'd rather have stayed right where she was, huddled on the floor and close to being out of sight.
"Father," said Sebastian, apparently reluctant to speak in front of the Court, "May we speak privately?"
"I'm certain, Lord Sebastian, that your disdain for protocol, blatant dereliction of duty, and complete failure to inform the Gardis of your whereabouts—requiring the use of quite a bit of mage power to redirect your Aether bracelet—can be discussed publicly," interrupted his father's Grand Vizier.
Sebastian looked to his father to slap the vizier down for his impertinence, but the Emperor merely steeped his fingers and waited. Sebastian frowned and prepared to make his case before his father and the court.
As Ciardis looked over at the vizier she realized something shocking. She needed to talk to Sebastian mind-to-mind now. But she couldn’t project her thoughts without touching, only receive them. As he opened his mouth to speak, Ciardis grabbed his hand and gripped it hard. She stood close enough to him that their cloaks hid the movement from the courtiers gathered behind them but not, of course, his father in front of them.
She hoped she imagined the faint look of surprise on the Emperor’s face.
What? He snapped through their connection.
She ignored his rudeness and the snide look from the Grand Vizier, who was waiting for Sebastian to make his case, and sent to Sebastian, That's the man from the vision—the one who created that stupid locket in the first place!
Sebastian's face didn't betray his thoughts as he carefully recalled the vision, looking over the scene of the strange man standing over his bed just before he turned five and thought over Ciardis's claim. Damn it, you're right. He couldn't deny it.
Turning to the Grand Vizier, he said, "There's certainly much we could discuss, my Lord Vizier, but my primary concern is why you have been siphoning off my mage powers for so long."
The gathered courtiers gasped, though his lord father remained conspicuously silent. Ciardis snuck a peek at the Emperor through lowered eyes and saw that he looked perplexed. "Explain yourself, Sebastian," his father commanded after a long moment.
Sebastian called golden fire to his palms. "This, Father, is what I mean," said Sebastian slowly, “I haven't been able to call the healing fire from the land since I was a toddler. I can now do this and more. I visited our Land Wight tonight. I saw what the Grand Vizier had done – he’s been stealing my mage powers for a decade."
"Lies, Sire," shouted the Grand Vizier as he hurried forth to prostrate himself before the Emperor, much to Sebastian's disgust. "I would never do anything to harm the Imperial Throne!" he babbled, rising to his knees with a panicked look in his eyes.
The Emperor stepped forward and caught the Vizier's chin in his grip.
"If what my son says is true, Vizier, there is nothing that would excuse it."
"I can explain, Sire—" But before the Vizier could finish the thought, his voice was cut off, as if a vise had clasped itself around his throat. The man tumbled back to the floor, gasping for air and clawing at his throat desperately.
As people surged forward to help, he clawed at his own throat in a desperate attempt to gain air. He was clearly fighting for breath that would not come. His eyes began to bulge, and he silently pleaded for help as blood vessels burst on the edges on his corneas. He fell back suddenly, and then lay very still.
The Grand Vizier was dead.
The Emperor ordered in the Gardis and had the room sealed.
Summoning the Commander of the Imperial Guard, the Emperor quickly ordered a mental inspection of all the room's inhabitants. Four of the Gardis went from person to person, looking for the murderer who had to be a mage of strong Air Magic, who had sufficient skills to take the breath from a person's lungs. It was a rare level of magic not easily attained, with only a few known practitioners able to do it, two of which resided as Instructors at the Red Madrassa.
After questioning everyone from the lowest non-mage courtier to Sebastian himself, it was determined that none had the ability to do what had been done to the Vizier. The killer wasn't in the room.
Tersely, the Emperor ordered the Commander of the Imperial Guard and Sebastian to join him in an antechamber. Sebastian kept a firm grip on Ciardis’s hand. Tugging her behind him even though she would have much preferred to be in a different room from the irate Emperor. With tenseness in his stride that telegraphed his anger, the Emperor asked, "How? How, Sebastian, was your magic stolen?"
Sebastian paled; he wasn't ready to accuse his father of betrayal, wasn't yet ready to hear him admit to the crime.
"Sebastian," said the Emperor sharply.
The Prince Heir sighed and took a deep breath. "Through a locket, Father. The gold one you wear about your neck."
Reaching inside his robes, the Emperor pulled out the simple gold chain and oval locket. He pulled it off and handed it to the commander with a simple, "Test it."
"Aye, Sire."
Sebastian swallowed hard. His father's face was expressionless, neither disbelieving nor angered. They waited in tense silence while the commander tested the necklace and returned it to the Emperor's hands after a brief inspection. "It's as the young prince says, Sire. It has residual ties leading even now to his mage core."
"Break the ties, then," the Emperor said.
"They're already dissipating on their own, Father." Sebastian stood facing him, waiting for some sign—any sign—that he hadn't known.
Finally, the Emperor wiped a tired hand on his face. "I don't know how this came to be, Sebastian. The mage power within the locket—yes, I knew that some power was there—was intended for use only as a reserve. I have never had to consciously call upon it, and I certainly never knew that it was tied to you."
A shudder went through the Emperor at that moment, and he dropped to his knees with a quick gasp of pain. The commander was by his side in moments, carefully tending to the ruler.
Sebastian knelt by his father's side, clutching his hand. By then, the Emperor had collapsed entirely.
"There's much you don't know, son," the Emperor said with a brittle laugh. "But for now, I don't have time to explain." Another shudder wracked his body. "You and...your friend...have freed up...the power of the Land Wight, which I should have had the courage to do myself...years ago," the Emperor stated. "Now that it is done, the power is surging through the land and breaking the...pacts I've had in place with the others."
"Others?" said Sebastian sharply.
"That is not for your knowledge," said his father, catching his breath at last and struggling to his feet. "Not yet. I must deal with this immediately. You have regained your birthright and everything pertaining thereunto. You have my congratulations. Attend to the festivities, and we will discuss your duties at a later point," the Emperor commanded.
Sebastian felt frustration and ire flash through him. He wanted to know now; he didn't care to be turned away. But he had no choice. He bowed stiffly and was escorted out. Ciardis following in his wake. Once back in the main salon, Sebastian motioned for the other nobles to leave the room and went with the Master of Ceremonies to ensure that the grounds were cleared of all potential threats.
Never once did he look back at Ciardis.