The Homunculus Knight

(Stuff is reaching a point where a world map is kinda needed. Enjoy my WIP version, I'll add it to the world encyclopedia for easier access as well. Inkarnate is the tool used btw)

Chapter 17: Plan of Action

“Animals have magic; they just ain’t bright enough to use it right. That's what Dire beasts are: animals with a bit more magic than normal. A person can use that power to cast spells and similar, but an animal can’t do much more than wish to be bigger and stronger. The one thing animals have over people is better magical senses, least compared to a normal person. So word of advice, if you suspect bad magic and your steed is skittish, pay attention to em.” - Grettir of Jokulstead, Monster Hunter, and Werewolf.

Cole threw one of his knives at the practice pell and watched it sink into the leather-coated wood with a resounding thunk. Yanking his hand back, he focused on the geode bound to his wrist, activating its enchantment. The knife detached from the pell and shot towards him fast enough to make Cole duck. As the throwing dagger clattered onto the sparring room floor, Cole had to admit Rellim knew his magecraft.

Carefully moving his left hand, Cole telekinetically dragged the knife towards him, resting the blade at his feet. With a thought, he unbound the knife from the enchantment and reached down to pick it up. Examining the now slightly blunted weapon, Cole reignited the spell woven into the quartz artifact and threw the knife again. This time, when he yanked his arm back, he did so with less force, the knife returned to him at a manageable speed, and he caught it.

Dropping the knife onto the ground, Cole slowly lifted his hand, feeling the phantom weight as the dagger wobbled into the air. Slowly, deliberately, Cole worked to keep the knife floating. Once he had the blade consistently hovering about chest height, he lurched his arm towards the practice pell and watched the knife hurtle in that direction. Unfortunately, Cole’s aim was off, and it missed; fortunately, he was alone in the practice yard, and the stray knife harmed only the stone pillar it bounced off.

Grimacing, Cole worked his hand in such a way as to drag the knife back towards him. The quartz runestone Cole received from Rellim was an impressive bit of enchantment; it let him telekinetically control the last object he held by moving the hand he touched it with. After nearly two hours of experimentation, Cole was reasonably confident he understood the spell’s mechanics. It felt like an adjustable rope attached him to the knife, and whenever he moved his hand, the blade responded, being pulled or pushed by Cole’s movements. Of course, the enchantment wasn’t just powered by blood; moving the linked object required slightly more physical exertion than moving it normally would. The cost seemed to increase the farther the object was from Cole, but with his unnatural strength, he barely noticed.

Thinking on that, Cole decided to try something he’d considered but been unwilling to attempt. Carefully, he moved the knife, so it was maybe two meters from the practice pell and hovering at waist height. Once the blade was suitably positioned, Cole muttered. “Here goes nothing,” and thrust his hand forward with all his strength. A shockingly loud crack of splitting wood echoed through the Tenth Temple sparring hall, and Cole looked at his handiwork with shock. The knife went clean through the practice pell and out the other side, sundering the training dummy before lodging itself a centimeter deep in the stone wall.

Carefully snuffing the enchantment, Cole looked down at his arm and tested his muscles; they felt a little stressed, like he’d chopped through a particularly sturdy spine, but nothing was damaged. Looking up at the now ruined knife protruding from the wall, Cole muttered to himself. “This has potential.”

Recovering the knife, Cole winced at the torment he’d put the poor blade through; he’d need to apologize with a whetstone later. Putting the knife into his bandolier, Cole rolled his shoulders and sighed. Two days had come and gone since the meeting with the Lych, and with the cure complete, production and distribution of the two Banes fell to the Temples.

From what Cole witnessed, the city was doing a good job of it, requisitioning every drop of juice and wine for this purpose. Isabelle’s formula was now widely known, and thankfully, it could be made with any Vampire’s venom. Apparently, Pryia, the Vampire madam, was extracting all manner of tax concessions from the city in exchange for buckets of her Sting. Unfortunately, The other Bane, made with Cole’s blood, was proving to be slightly trickier. It still worked when made with a cured or immunized person’s blood, but not quite as well compared to when Cole was the chief ingredient. So, the few vials of ‘prime’ cure Isabelle prepared were saved for transubstantiation.

In these two days, Cole’s ‘inner circle’ of Natalie, Isabelle, Alia, Mina, and, oddly enough, Yara were busy preparing to leave Vindabon. As much as Cole didn’t like it, he knew heading towards the frontlines was necessary. Even if everything with Natalie and the Sage’s Stone hadn’t happened, he’d still need to go; the cold throb in his chest pulling him southeast said as much. This was the first time he’d felt the god-touch since winter, and Cole wondered if Natalie’s joke about Master Time ‘giving him a vacation’ was true.

Checking his kit, Cole stewed in his concerns. Reclaiming the Alukah was almost certainly one of the Duchies’s goals, and putting Natalie so close to the enemy’s grasp seemed extremely risky. If it were up to Cole, he’d just go himself and do what needed to be done, but that wasn’t an option. Forces were pushing both him and Natalie toward the Southern Marches, forces Cole couldn’t easily countermand. Even if Cole found another option to move the Sage stone to Prince Franz and Master Time were to send another Paladin, he’d need to contend with Natalie’s will. The idea of using her powers to help people and fight the Duchies was becoming core to Natalie’s identity and purpose. Cole could do a lot, but he couldn’t protect Natalie from her allies or herself. So, it was time to discard his worries, pick up his steel, and get to work.

Adjusting his traveling leathers, Cole left the sparring yard and headed towards the apartment. Even with his new armor and equipment, Cole traveled light; packing for the trip hadn’t taken much time. The same couldn’t be said of anyone else he was traveling with. Even Yara managed to take more time to prepare than Cole, which, to be fair, was mainly because Natalie took the thrall shopping for proper clothes and equipment. Natalie and Isabelle both agreed to bring Yara with them out of necessity. She couldn’t be left in Vindabon, or more accurately, wouldn’t let herself be left in Vindabon. Yara was willing to flee the city and chase after Natalie through dangerous wilderness and hostile country. Instead of trying to bribe Pryia into looking after the Sting-addict, Natalie decided bringing her was less of a hassle.

Stepping into the apartment, Cole found Natalie putting the finishing touches on the two traveling trunks she’d been preparing. Cole’s pack and armor trunk sat next to the door, and atop them was the case containing Isabelle’s skull. The box was now adorned in runes and shut by a hexed padlock, Isabelle’s personal improvements to her defense. According to Natalie, the past few days were shockingly draining on Isabelle. Even with Natalie’s loaned body, she’d overtaxed herself, so now the former Countess slumbered.

Cole approached Natalie and wrapped his arms around her, gently pulling her towards his chest. Natalie leaned back into Cole and looked up at him. “I’m just about done. How are you feeling, love?”

Holding her close, Cole said. “Stressed and worried, but that’s about normal.”

Natalie sighed. “How can I help you feel better? I know me going is what has you nervous.”

Exhaling slowly, Cole dredged up an old memory. “Do you remember what I told you when I hunted the Walking Charnel of Lungu?”

Frowning, Natalie searched her memory. “If things went wrong, I should run and leave you?”

Cole confirmed her recollection with a nod, and Natalie’s frown intensified. “No, I’m not going to leave you to the Duchies. It was pure luck you escaped them last time, and you still wake up screaming because of what they did to you.”

Despite himself, Cole shivered at Natalie’s words, and her expression softened at his discomfort. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to poke those wounds, but I’m not letting you plan to martyr yourself.”

Resting his forehead on Natalie, Cole explained his reasoning. “I’m not planning to martyr myself; I’m trying to minimize damage. If the Duchies capture you, they will most likely kill you to extract the Alukah, Otherwise, they will bind you away to replace Annoch as a blood source, or at worst, they could break your mind, ripping your humanity and empathy from you.”

Natalie’s face contorted like she wanted to be sick, and Cole felt his heart ache, but he needed to be honest with her. “If they capture me, I will be experimented on and tortured. Given time, they will break me, but it wouldn’t be the first time. But no matter what they do, I can be eventually rescued; that isn’t guaranteed with you. I’m not planning to sacrifice myself, but if it comes down to it, I can survive in a way you can’t. ”

Cole could see Natalie’s mind chewing on this, hating the taste but unable to reject it. Reaching up to touch his cheek, Natalie said. “Okay, if things become that bad, I promise I’ll follow your wishes.”

Some steel crept into Natalie’s voice as she continued. “But know this: if the worst comes to pass, nothing will stop me from rescuing you I’m growing stronger every day, and even if it takes me a century and the deaths of every fucking Vampire in the Duchies, I will save you!”

A lump formed in Cole’s throat, and his heart actually skipped a beat. “Thank you.”

Natalie frowned up at him, head cocked to one side. “Are you okay?”

An amused snort escaped Cole. “I’m not used to being the one offered declarations of protection and safety.”

Scratching his cheek and the long scar there, Cole elaborated. “When I was in the larder, knowing nobody was coming for me was the worst part. There was no hope, no possibility of escape, just… just an infinity of pain. So… thank you, your words mean a lot.”

Smiling up at him, Natalie said. “You’d do the same for me, Hells you already did back in Glockmire. Besides, isn’t that what a relationship should be? Both of us willing to slaughter our way through an army of monsters for the other?”

That got an actual laugh from Cole, and he bent down to kiss Natalie. As they broke the kiss, Natalie turned back to her packing. “Gimme like five minutes, and we can head out. How am I doing on time?”

Thinking about the last bells he’d heard and trying to do a mental estimation, Cole shrugged. “We should make it to the meeting without issue.”

True to her estimation, Natalie was fully packed, and the pair were headed for the conference in the Temple’s sky garden. Much to Cole's chagrin, a quartet of Temple workers met Cole and Natalie outside their apartment and loaded their luggage onto a wheeled cart. He didn’t like being waited on, especially by people who looked at him with undisguised awe as the workers did. It reminded him too much of the slavish, false loyalty the Vampires often burned into their servants. Natalie, for her part, was enjoying people not shying away from her; word of her aid in curing the plague seemed to have finally tipped public opinion in her favor.

After a few minutes of walking, they reached the sky garden and approached the rotunda. They weren’t the first to arrive; Mina, Alia, Glynn, and Morri stood at the rotunda’s edge. In front of them, speaking animatedly, was Pankrator Marcus of the Eleventh Temple. Dressed in an arming doublet with a war sword at his side, the Hierophant of Misbegotten War happily explained his favored tactics for fighting the Undead.

“I’ve always liked the ‘sword and board’ as the youths call it these days. A sturdy blade for cutting flesh and a shield to make space in a horde. Of course, a mace or warhammer will also work, but Ghouls have the nastiest habit of ignoring broken bones. I know this is not news to you, Morri, or your protege, but our City-warden friend here will need to learn daggers, and crossbows won’t cut it against the walking dead.”

The sound of Cole’s boots caught Marcus’s attention, and spun to see him and Natalie approaching. “Ah! The Wyvern-slayer and the honorable Vampire, you are late but not the latest!”

Cole glanced around the rotunda, “Pankrator Marcus, good to see you. We are missing Argentari, and who else?”

The sturdy warrior-priest scratched his beard and said. “Aside from the rotund spy? Sir Ibram Falx, one of House Franz’s Marshals. Arkweath Cantus, patriarch of the Cantus merchant family. Hierophant Dala of the Eighth Temple and someone from the Ivory Tower representing the Lych.”

Frowning at that, Cole muttered. “An eclectic selection, with lots of powerful groups represented. Any idea what Argentari is planning?”

Marcus smiled, showing broad tombstone teeth. “I have no idea; only that if Argentari called on me, then fighting is involved.”

Over the next ten minutes or so, the rest of the assembly arrived. Ibram Falx, with his drooping mustaches, exchanged warrior greetings with Marcus and Cole. Hierophant Dala, a willowy old woman layered in shawls, asked Natalie about the cure’s creation. Arkweath Cantus arrived by hippogryph, dismounting the beast and loudly complaining about Argentari’s tardiness, personality, hygiene, and fashion choices.

Just when Cole thought he might need to rescue Natalie from Dala’s interrogation, Argentari finally arrived carrying a pile of scrolls. “I must apologize for being late, especially since I called this meeting. But there were complications from the Ivory Tower and my own order.”

Striding past the group and into the rotunda proper, Argentari tapped his foot against a stone and whispered a word of power. The slightly elevated speaker’s podium extended upward into a serviceable table. Laying his scrolls on the table, Argentari grabbed a particularly large one and started unrolling it, revealing a detailed map of the Southern Marches.

Once the map was set up, Argentari nodded to himself and spoke. “I will not mince words; we have a method to produce the cure in huge quantities quickly. This method requires an object of utmost value and potency called a Sage stone. Of the two stones we possess, one needs to be transported to Prince Franz and his army. As a further complication, the object can only be moved by our resident Vampire, working with Priestess Mina Vrock of the Tenth Temple.”

All eyes fell upon Natalie and Mina as Argentari continued speaking. “Then, if this wasn’t tricky enough, Vindabon has a spy problem. At least three high-ranking nobles are compromised either materially or magically. Unfortunately, the most likely candidate for our spy is so well-placed that we cannot hide these events from her. Knowledge of the Sage stone and its properties has spread among the city’s elite, and that's a feline we can’t get back in the bag. So to ensure the stone isn’t intercepted or delayed, some trickery is in order.”

Gesturing to Arkweath Cantus, the Quicksilver Player started to explain his plan. “Your family is currently preparing a large convoy to take supplies to the Prince’s army. I’m dragging you from your last-minute preparations because I want to add to your cargo.”

Arkweath sighed and scratched his stubble. “Fuck you Argentari. What do I need to do?”

The Hierophant’s lip quivered in a smile. “You will be transporting as many barrels of the cure as possible while under the protection of the Eleventh Temple and House Franz. The Sage’s Stone and its carriers will also be on your barges’ manifests but not actually present.”

The merchant produced some impressively foul oaths. “You want my house and its employees to be your distraction?”

Argentari nodded. “Yes, but you will have Pankrator Marcus, Hierophant Dala, and a whole company of soldiers as protection. But you aren’t just a distraction; delivering the cure to towns and villages along the Alidon River will fall to your convoy. I’m sure a canny merchant like you can find ways to benefit from such an act of charity, especially considering the tax incentives my ‘official’ office is willing to provide.”

Pankrator Marcus clapped Arkweath on the back hard enough to make the merchant stumble. “This will be a mighty challenge, and we shall rise to it! My battle-brothers and sisters will protect your convoy with sharp steel and strong arms!”

Hierophant Dala spoke up then. “That’s all very good, but why am I required? I’m not exactly a Battle-mage or war-priest.”

The Quicksilver Player raised an eyebrow. “You sell yourself short, Dala. I’ve met only a handful of people with your illusion and magical detection skills. We must convince any prying eyes the Stone and its guards are in the convoy. Also, having someone who can warn of incoming attacks or magical subversion would be incredibly useful.”

Examining the map, Cole asked. “If they are acting as a diversion, how will the actual stone be moved?”

Argentari grabbed one of the scrolls from his pile and handed it to Cole. “You will go by land; the route and additional details are listed here.”

Frowning, Cole started to say how walking such a distance wouldn’t be feasible when the truth struck him. They intended him to go by horse, and horses hated Cole. Grimacing, Cole racked his mind for other options. He couldn’t just say horses didn’t like him; it sounded silly and didn’t capture the magnitude of a typical equine reaction. Then, if he was forced to demonstrate, someone might start asking questions about why even placid workhorses panicked in his presence. Sourly, Cole decided he’d just have to stay as far away from any horses as possible and hope for the best.

Taking the scroll from Cole, Mina opened it and examined the route. “This will take longer than by boat, and is there a reason we can’t just journey with the main convoy? If you are layering all these protections upon it, then why not just put what needs protecting with it?”

Argentari grimaced. “Ironically, expedience. It is extremely likely the river convoy will repeatedly be bogged down by bureaucracy, sabotage, panicked citizens, genuine accidents, and enemy attacks. A large, well-protected convoy will better weather these incidents, but at the cost of speed and subtlety. Putting our enemy's attention on an obvious target will spare the real stone carriers, letting them travel over remote but safe country towards their destination quickly.”

Arkweath asked then. “Assuming we do this and make it past Crowbend Castle and towards Harmas, what then? The city is lost, and I don’t like the idea of taking a convoy this large past an occupied location.”

A tense silence fell for a few seconds as the ugly fate of Harmas was renewed in their minds. From the reports Argentari shared with Cole, it seemed Harmas was one of the first places infected by the pestilence. In fact, it suffered an outbreak so early and so convenient the Quicksilver players didn’t believe it was real for a time. As more information trickled in, a broader, uglier picture was being painted. Harmas locked itself away from the world, but not before the plague and enemy agents slipped inside. In the three months since the Quicksilver scout Griffin escaped, little information had leaked from the Southern Marches capital.

Argentari picked up another scroll and actually smiled. “Harmas has not yet fallen, or at least not into the enemy’s hands.”

Unrolling the message scroll, Argentari pointed to the proud sigil stamped onto the document’s head. Depicted in enchanted ink was a pair of crowned towers separated by a river and linked by a great chain, the princely seal of Harmas. Tapping the sigil, Argentari said. “A very brave and very ensorcelled messenger bird got this to us yesterday. The document's author is Lord Matthis Janic, the grandson of Prince John, and his heir. In this letter, Lord Matthis pleads for aid and offers a little insight into events. According to him, the city’s quarantine is enforced by a powerful Spirit bound to the princely throne. Prince John is in the clutches of ‘conspirators’ and unable or unwilling to call off the Spirit. Additionally, Lord Matthis claims most of the city is dead, with only a few pockets of survivors clinging to life among the Ghouls.”

Argentari’s smile turned sour as he recounted these details. “We know Matthis penned this letter; the seal tells us as much, but it's impossible to say if he speaks the truth. Considering what we know, I’d wager at least part of the letter is accurate, and that is very worrying. It’s been a mystery as to why the Leeches haven’t properly conquered Harmas, and this would explain it. They’ve subverted and ruined the city, but not before it could be locked away from their clutches. Which leads us to the decoy caravan’s other task in this matter.”

Gesturing at the large map and its depiction of Harmas, Argentari continued. “Once the caravan arrives near Harmas, it will need to try and contact any allies within the city but, more importantly, ensure the Spirit maintains its quarantine.”

Natalie recoiled at his words and asked. “Why in the world’s name would you want to keep the quarantine? You’d be trapping the survivors in there!”

Glynn answered for Argentari. “We’d also be trapping the thousands of Ghouls inside the city. It is ugly arithmetic, but the lives of potential survivors aren’t worth the damage of unleashing tens of thousands of Ghouls upon a plague-stricken countryside. Our defenses are holding along the Alidon; the line of forts keep the Leeches from pushing past the river. But if Harmas were to be broken open and all those Ghouls spilled out, it would provide the Duchies new opportunities and a new army.”

Natalie stared down at the map, and Cole could track her eyes tracing the Alidon River. How it journeyed east through Norica before turning sharply south at Crowbend castle, cutting the Southern Marches in twain before joining the River Tya at Scordis and turning back east into the Duchies proper. It was a familiar route for both Cole and Natalie, but they’d spent much of it below deck during their barge trip; fear of exposing Natalie’s nature kept them overly cautious.

Pankrator Marcus also examined the map. “I know of a few Temple lodges on the route; I should be able to pick up a few more sword-arms along the way. Also, I’m curious as to why the Duchies haven’t yet pressed the advantage. If Prince Franz’s army is mired in the plague and Harmas is lost, why haven’t the Leeches crossed the Alidon and made this bad situation worse?”

Sir Falx coughed, getting the group's attention. “I can answer that in part. The plague is stymied at the Prince’s camp; its spread and potency are much reduced by the arrival of a powerful ally. A Seraphtouched Priestess is protecting the army from the worst of it, but her powers are flagging, hence why the cure must be delivered. The Leeches are unwilling to attack the Prince’s larger and divinely-protected army with their current force.”

Offering a nod of thanks to the old knight, Argentari elaborated. “Until the plague, the balance of power was in our favor. The Southern Marches are well-fortified and prepared for war. These lands have seen and resisted many invasions, and with Prince Franz’s great host assembled from across the Holy League to aid them, the Marches should have been able to hold against the Leeches. Unfortunately, the isolation of Harmas and the plague have changed things, forcing our armies to the Alidon defenses, but that is still a position of strength. If the Leeches want to breech the river forts, they must cross the Alidon and then besiege a castle expecting reinforcements. Not an easy thing, even for the Undead, so they are waiting for plague to whittle the defenders down.”

Cole grimaced; he’d hoped to avoid messy schemes and complicated situations like this. But he was forced to admit this was a Paladin’s lot; spending a decade hunting random Undead wasn’t the true purpose of his mantle; standing as a champion against armies of darkness was.

The meeting soon transitioned to minutia related to the decoy convoy, and it came time for the real stone carriers to leave. Cole, Natalie, Alia, Mina, and Morri detached from the assembled group as Argentari haggled transportation costs with Arkweath. Under one of Cole’s arms was a collection of maps, documents, instructions, and reports Argentari deemed necessary. Clutched in Mina’s hands was the reliquary containing the Sage’s Stone, the runed box humming with occult power.

Morri’s age-worn face was creased in a heavy frown as he walked. “The Ivory Tower was supposed to send someone. I’m concerned about that absence, but time is of the essence. I’ve seen to your transportation; a good wagon and horses are waiting for you.”

Stopping, he placed a hand on both Cole and Mina’s shoulders. “I’m proud of you both and honored to have taught you everything I have. Mina, a heavy burden rests on your shoulders, but I cannot think of a better person to carry it. Cole, remember the words you live by and know their truth still applies to you.”

Looking down at his black-tipped fingers, Morri whispered. “I will try to stave off the transformation until you return; this isn’t a final goodbye. But I think this is the last time I will speak to either of you as a mentor. Take what you can from my wisdom, improve upon it, and when the time comes, pass it on.”

Solem hugs were exchanged, and Cole felt a lump of grief build in his throat as the group left the sky garden. The quartet of Cole, Natalie, Alia, and Mina walked silently until the City-warden said. “Well, this is some real heavy shit.”

An undignified snort escaped Mina, which got Natalie snickering despite herself. Even Cole felt his lips break in a slight smile at Alia’s irreverence. Looking down at the Catblood, Cole asked, “Are you having second thoughts?”

Alia shrugged, “I probably should, but hells, I’m really not. Someone needs to watch Mina’s backside, and you are too busy staring at Natalie’s to be much use.”

That earned Alia an annoyed smack from both Priestess and Vampire. Smiling impishly, Alia remarked. “I mean, can you blame us? You both have fantastic asses.”

Cole let out a deep sigh. “I’m assuming this is your way of coping with stress, but perhaps find some other way than objectifying my girlfriend.”

Shrugging, Alia took the warning and changed the topic. “Why’d you tense up when you found out we’d be traveling over land? Is there something nasty on the path I should know about?”

For a split second, Cole considered redirecting the conversation back to Alia’s lechery but decided there was no point in hiding it. “Horses don’t like me. They don’t react well to my presence.”

Natalie raised an eyebrow at that. “The horses pulling the tirage cart didn’t have a problem with you.”

Cole grimaced. “I was covered in Wyvern blood, and those animals were at the edge of panic even without me.”

Frowning, Natalie thought on this. Cole could practically see her mind sorting through memories and fitting together pieces. “A Centaur took us to the Ball, the Werefolk use oxen, and we walked from Zaubervold on foot…”

A few minutes later, when the group finally reached the Temple stables, the truth of Cole’s statement became clear. A farrier was in the middle of reshoeing a horse when Cole entered the stables, and the bay rouncey made her displeasure apparent. The horse pulled away from the farrier and let loose a shrieking whinny as its ears folded back. Other horses in the surrounding stalls echoed the call, and Cole winced at the cacophony. Thankfully well-built stall doors rattled as horses pushed against them and stomped on packed dirt floors. Alia, Mina, and Natalie stared at Cole as he let out a tired sigh.

The farrier managed to get to his feet, then grip his ‘client's’ bridle and bring her in line. Staring up at Cole, the farrier asked. “Sir Paladin? You kill anything recently? Horses don’t like the smell of death.”

Keeping a careful eye on the reshoed horse as it pulled on the bridle, Cole said. “Not recently. I heard there was a wagon prepared for my group’s use?”

Nodding his head towards the stable entrance, the farrier said. “Ah yes, one of the stable boys was just getting the team settled. You’ve got Cuff and Clout; they are good draft horses, perfect for a long trip but even-tempered enough to stay on a barge for some time.”

Offering his thanks, Cole looked to his companions and grimaced. Alia leaned into Mina and whispered. “Cole wasn’t kidding…”

Cole managed to thread the needle and not get too close to any horse in the stable. Upon reaching the stable entrance, the group found a sturdy-looking travel wagon with a pair of solid equines attached to it. Yara was brushing one of the grey horses and chatting with a stable boy, unnoticing of their arrival.

One of the horses noticed Cole; its nostrils flared, and only Yara’s steady grip stopped it from thrashing. Hushing the animal, the thrall managed to soothe the creature enough to look around and see what bothered it. Eyes fixing on Natalie, Yara smiled and bowed. “Mistress! Everything is packed, and the horses are ready!”

Natalie stifled an annoyed wince, which only Cole noticed before saying. “I didn’t know you knew how to handle horses, Yara.”

The thrall shrugged and stroked the nervous draft horse’s neck. “I know my way around them. I’m sorry Cuff here reacted like that; he must not know what a Noble smells like.”

Letting out a breath, Cole said. “They don’t like me; I guess I smell like death or something.”

Alia shook her head. “Naw, you don’t smell like death. You smell like…hells, you don’t smell like anything. What do you wash with?”

Frowning, Natalie stepped forward towards the nervous horse and looked it in the eye. Cuff, the draft horse stopped his fidgeting and simply met Natalie’s gaze. Cole could feel the faintest buzz in the Aether as Vampire and horse connected telepathically. After maybe a minute, Natalie pulled away from Cuff and blinked rapidly.

Going over to Cole, she grabbed his hand and hauled him towards the horse. Before Cole could protest, his fingers were resting on the animal’s snout, and it stared at him with bored disinterest. Cuff’s teammate, Clout, wasn’t so placid and tried to pull against his harness and escape Cole.

Slowly taking his hand from the horse’s snout, Cole asked, “What did you do?”

Natalie shrugged. “I looked into his mind, found the problem, and fixed it. Let me do Clout next, and then we can get moving.”

In another minute, both members of the draft team were back to their normal selves, uncaring of whatever unnatural property of Cole distressed them before. Watching as the horses nibbled on some final bits of hay, Cole didn’t know how to feel about this. Psychic magic always got his hackles raised, especially when it was used so nonchalantly as Natalie just did. Of course, what she did wasn’t anything malicious and, in truth, probably necessary, but it still bothered Cole.

After checking to ensure all their luggage and equipment was safely packed, including the box with Isabelle’s skull, the group clambered into the wagon as Yara took the reigns. The stone carriers and their protectors needed to stay hidden until they left the city, so Cole, Natalie, Mina, and Alia hunkered down beneath sturdy canvas as Yara drove the horses onward.

With Natalie nestled against him and his cloak wrapping them both, Cole managed to relax a little. Staring up at the canvas covering of the wagon, Cole took a deep breath. With a little luck, the trip would prove uneventful, and he could process the insane events of the last two weeks. But as he looked down at Natalie resting against his chest, Cole knew the odds weren’t in his favor.