The High-Wizard's Hunt - By Ashley Delay Page 0,76

stop this war.” She turned and walked away, and Gus and Eublin stared after her for a moment with expressions of awe and surprise on their faces. Pebble skipped past them after waving goodbye to the unicorns.

“I’s got’s some more gifts I’s gotsta give out. I’s will be right back’s!”

Chapter 16

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Escape

Osric felt shackles around his wrists and ankles, and he could hear a muffled voice from his left. He could feel a cold, damp wall on his bare back as he opened his eyes. It was the dark, cold room they had attempted to flee. The table in the center of the room, and the candles mounted on the wall across from him, brought the scene from Kenneth’s vision fresh to his mind. He knew exactly what was going to happen next. He heard a cough to his left, and Osric turned toward the sound. Kenneth was stretched out on the wall only a few strides away. His face was swollen, and several cuts like those from a whip covered his abdomen. The gashes were fresh, and they must have occurred since he had lost consciousness when they had attempted to travel. Osric tried to call out, but his cry was stifled by the gag that had been replaced while he was out. Aron and the two hooded guards entered the room, just as Osric expected.

“Now, I think I have convinced you both that sarcasm will be met with pain,” Aron said as he looked at Kenneth’s unconscious body and then back at Osric. “I need you to tell me about your wand.”

As the guard removed his gag, sharp pain indicated that Osric’s nose had been broken by whatever kept them in the cell. Panic rose up inside of Osric until he realized that Aron was more impressed with the appearance of the wand than anything else. He looked at the wand with awe and caressed the bolt on the handle with a lust like quality; Osric wondered if he had used it yet, or just spent the night gawking at it like a child.

“What about it?” Osric tilted his head questioningly. “It’s a Gus wand, same as any other.”

Osric could sense the emotions emanating from Aron as he considered his prisoner. Confidence, anger, confusion, frustration, and curiosity swirled together, barraging Osric’s newly acquired Empath ability.

“Yes,” Aron answered in a drawn out, belittling tone, “but I suspect if you had made it out of this cell, you would have risked your life to retrieve it from me. Just how did you free yourselves from these chains?”

Osric hesitated, trying to manufacture a story that would allow him to free himself without having to give away any of the information about spoken spells. Grasping at every option he could imagine, he realized there was only one excuse that might satisfy Aron. Still, there was only a tenuous hope that the excuse would work.

“Your men did a poor job of securing us in the restraints, though they seem to have been much more thorough this time,” Osric looked defiantly at the guards. “Once I was able to free one hand, I picked our locks with a small shard of metal from the floor.”

Osric could feel Aron’s eyes drilling into him, searching his face for any sign of deception. Aron had witnessed the spoken spells at the Braya Volcano, but whether he believed everything he thought he saw them do was still a mystery. So far, Aron had not asked Osric about the magic he had performed at Braya, and he grasped at the hope that Aron would continue to live in ignorance of how he was defeated.

“And how did you get your filthy hands on a Gus wand?” Aron did not seem entirely convinced by the excuse, but to Osric’s great relief, he moved on anyway. “You do not have the means to afford a wand of this stature. Your sword,” he motioned to the table, “is yet another item that seems out of place for a man of your standing. They are both quite impressive. Half of the Ryhains in the realm do not own equipment of this quality.”

“Where are you going with this? You knew Gus was with us at Braya, or did you not realize it was that Gus?” Osric gazed at Aron, trying to gain control of the direction of the conversation. To his surprise, the tactic seemed to be working.

“Fine,” Aron lifted the sword from the table out of frustration, “and what is your excuse for this? I