Storm of Prophecy: Book 1, Dark Awakening (23 page)

“Wait, just calm down a moment. We can’t leave the vault door undefended. Someone has to stay and stand guard. Now that you’re here, one of you can take my…”

“We didn’t come here to relieve you,” Craig quickly clarified, “we came here to get you to join us!”

“We have to go after him now before he gets away!” Stan exploded.

Vincent didn’t want a repeat of history: them tracking the responsible party and then having nothing to show for it later. Or them getting hurt. He was getting almost as anxious as they and also frustrated at their lack of planning. “If it was that urgent, why are you bothering to bring it to me! We have an entire keep full of wizards here! You could have told somebody else!”

“We tried!” Stan exclaimed in near panic. “No one would believe us!”

Craig’s suggestion was laced with harsher underlying insistence than his words let on. “I really think we should probably leave right now if we expect to catch up with him.”

Vincent looked from one desperate face to another, feeling more convinced than ever that they were telling the truth. Their intense stares were hanging on his next response. “We could get into a lot of trouble for abandoning our post, and the thieves could try again while we’re gone. I’ve already served my shift. Maybe one of you should stay behind.”

“We don’t care about that!” Stan burst out. “It’s not very likely! He’s out there! We need you to come with us now!”

“Strength in numbers,” Craig added quickly. “We’re only junior guards and we thought to seek the aid of a full fledged one.” When Vincent didn’t respond immediately, he started losing his grip just like Stan. “So far you’re the only one who will even listen to us! We have to put a stop to their foul deeds before it’s too late!”

It meant a lot to know that they respected him, despite his unique ability, and that they would turn to him for guidance and help, but this feeling was sobered by the current crisis. Vincent understood that action was paramount yet was worried about something else. “We can’t just leave The Crafters’ Vault undefended.”

“This is more important!” Stan nearly screamed. “If you won’t come with us, then we’ll have to go without you!”

“No you won’t!” Vincent yelled back, his memories of the recent attack still fresh in his mind. Stan and Craig stared back in disbelief, apparently thinking that he more than anyone would have been interested. They had no idea of the horror they were dealing with and he was becoming concerned for them. “This is not something that junior guards should be dealing with on their own! And it’s not training! This is serious! You could be killed!”

“Then come with us!” Craig insisted.

“The vault has protective spells! Even more of them since the attack!” Stan shouted worriedly. “There is no one to stop this person except us!” Vincent continued to stare him in the eye. He softened his tone in an attempt to compose himself and tried for a moment to resume speaking in a formal manner. “Sir, as members of the Academy Guard, is it not our first sworn duty to defend the academy from outside threats?”

It was quite a dilemma. Hearing him repeat the obligation made Vincent feel like he was being torn in two. In order to uphold the Academy in one way, he would have to betray it in another. His nervous and racked mind quickly battled with it back and forth until one set of reasoning finally won out. It went against everything he believed in, and he knew there could be severe consequences, but Vincent finally made his decision. He had almost made the other.

“Alright, I’ll help you,” Vincent said. They both looked more hopeful and excited as well as eager and ready to leave. Vincent then immediately lifted up a finger in warning. “Under one condition,” he added.

They both froze visibly. “Name it,” Stan implored hastily.

“We do this
my
way,” Vincent asserted, “neither of you jumps or does anything stupid unless I say so. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Stan answered.

Vincent looked to Craig. “Clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

Vincent started hurrying out of the hall with Stan on his left and Craig on his right, walking fast but not running. He filled them in as they went. “Alright, here’s the plan: we’re going to follow him without tipping him off and without engaging him in combat.”

“Why?” Craig asked.

Against his own nature and his deep hatred of violence, Vincent felt a grim expression overtake his face. “I want him to lead us to the others.”

“There’s too many,” Stan protested. “We don’t stand a chance. We should just capture him and beat it out of him.”

Somehow, Vincent knew that wouldn’t work. “Is he still wearing peasant clothes?”

“Yes.”

Vincent had suspected as much. “If we brought him before the masters, it would be very easy for him to just pretend that we were torturing an innocent man into falsely confessing. And I don’t want just one man, I want them all. If we’re careful, we can still win. Besides, I know a few other people who can help us.”

“We better hurry then,” Craig said, “there’s not much time.” Right after he said it, Vincent gripped the top of his sword handle with his left hand to steady it, and all three of them began to run.

Chapter
IX

A
s Vincent ran with Stan and Craig up the stairs, he suggested that he go rally his other friends for support while they tailed the culprit. In their haste, they agreed and promised to leave a trail with magic that he and the others could follow and use to catch up. Vincent separated from them at the ground floor and ran up the many flights of stairs as fast as he could.

His blood was racing as he went to knock on Karl’s door first. “Come on! Get up, Karl! We have to go!”

“Is that you, Vincent?” He asked groggily.

“Yes! Come on! You have to wake up!”

“Why?”

“They spotted him again! This is exactly what we’ve been waiting for!”

Sleepy and weary, Karl opened the door, brushing his shoulder length blond hair out of his face and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Spotted who?”

“The man they saw leaving with Jeanette!” Vincent explained frantically. “He can lead us straight to the cult!”

Karl’s brown eyes came wide awake. He floated his rock into the air and tucked it under the green sleeve of his left arm as they ran together through the hallway. “Let’s split up,” he suggested, “I’ll go wake up Rick, you go get Stacy.”

“And we’ll meet up under the gatehouse if not before,” Vincent immediately voiced next.

“Agreed.”

In his mind, he hurried to remember where Stacy’s quarters were, and had to stop and run back the way he came once he realized he had just passed the hall that led there. This time he tried to be more deliberate in how he roused Stacy, but was unable to conceal his excitement as he knocked, much less as he spoke. “Stacy, it’s me, Vincent. Stan saw the same man again on campus, trying to steal something else. I think it’s in the best interest of our investigation to pursue him before he gets away.”

The instant of silence seemed much longer than it actually was.

“Just a minute,” he heard her say.

Vincent paced in earnest until a few moments later when Stacy opened the door and came out. She fell in beside him as they raced through the hall. “Where is he?” She asked.

“Stan and Craig are following him right now as we speak,” he explained hurriedly, “they promised to leave a trail for us so we can catch up.”

“I just hope no one else sees it,” she remarked, “what about Rick and Karl?”

“They already know, and if they’re ahead of us, then they’re waiting under the gatehouse.”

“Let’s be quick then.”

Stacy gripped the hem of her blue dress in one hand and they both ran through the halls and down the steps as quickly as they could. Their footsteps scraped and patted the stone beneath them in a staccato of quick succession, and the walls passed by in a blur. Near the bottom of the last step, Stacy lost her balance and Vincent had to catch her in his arms to keep her from falling. Some of her brown hair whipped in his face, filling his lungs with the scent of lavender while her soft breasts pressed up against his firm chest almost like they were hugging for a moment. Vincent was already hot from the exertion and the contact only made him warmer. It was inappropriate yet strangely felt nice.

“I’m alright,” she said, regaining her footing, “let’s keep going.” He released her and she brushed her hair out of her face as they ran on.

Stacy was not at all an unattractive woman. He had to scream to himself in his mind to quit being lewd. It was only an accident; his heart belonged to Jessica, and right now he had bigger things to worry about.

They passed through the dining hall at top speed and started going out the tunnel-like passage to exit the keep. Light orbs spaced evenly on the sides flashed by quickly in their vision and soon Vincent found himself pulling on one of the heavy metal doors to help Stacy get out first. The sound of his loud breathing reverberated off the solid, cold surface. Once in the courtyard, he dashed onward to catch up with her. In a matter of moments, they rendezvoused with Rick and Karl under the gatehouse.

They both looked at Vincent expectantly. Rick was so alert and awake that one couldn’t even tell that he had been sleeping. His red robes were smooth and unwrinkled, and he seemed eager for action. He already had fire in his blue eyes even if there was none yet at his fingertips. When Vincent said nothing, he became impatient. “I don’t see him. Why are we out here?”

In his haste, Vincent had forgotten to tell that part to Karl and thus Rick. “Stan and Craig are shadowing his footsteps. They’re leaving us a trail of some sort to follow. Keep your eyes open for it. I told them not to engage until he leads us to their camp.”

“Alright, let’s go then,” Rick said, anxiously twitching his red mustache and turning to leave.

“Wait,” Vincent said quickly, checking his sword to see if it was loose in its scabbard. It was a nervous tick since he would have to do so again later anyway. “I just want to say a few other things.”

“What is it?”

Vincent looked up from his sword handle directly into each of their eyes. “Be prepared to fight. And don’t show them any mercy”
-
he held each of their gazes to make sure they understood
-
“mercy will only get you killed.”

“Noted,” Stacy put in.

“Let’s go already!” Karl insisted out of annoyance.

They all started off in a rush with Rick and Stacy on Vincent’s left and Karl on his right. It was dark, and so there were almost no people at all to notice, but Vincent still didn’t think it wise. He cautioned them all to walk fast instead of running since it was a long way, they needed all their strength once they got there, and he didn’t want to startle their quarry who would probably be walking. The others quickly saw his point and cooled their impatient fervor enough to heed it, slowing to a quick, steady gait.

There was a rustling of their clothing as they walked. The night air was becoming cool against Vincent’s face, and he could smell the day’s leftover breath from the grass and trees. They kept going along the paved middle road that led from the keep through the lawns and buildings of the campus and headed straight for the outer gate. Vincent’s mood was darkened by thoughts of another impending life or death battle: one that his friends would now be a part of.

“The nerve of that scum to come back!” Rick remarked in frustration under his red mustache. “I’m going to make him regret it.”

“Let’s be careful though,” Vincent warned. “There’s no telling what we might be walking into.”

“I’m ready for anything,” he replied. Vincent checked his sword again to make sure it was loose in its scabbard, wishing he shared Rick’s confidence.

In the middle of the vine covered stone wall ahead rose a blue iron bar gate that was taller than the wall. The iron rods were vertically arranged; there were a few flat crossbeams at several points along its height, and at the top there was an arc across the center where it was split down the middle. To the right of the gate, an old peasant man sat on a wooden stool. He took a bite on a loaf of bread in his hand and chewed on it while he watched the four of them approaching. Vincent knew that this was the gatekeeper and that he possessed a key that would open the lock.