Page 101 of Kingdom of Locks

“And obviously I’m coming as well,” Tora chimed in, hurrying to catch up. Amell shook his head humorously.

Their parents didn’t even try protesting Tora’s inclusion, from which Amell inferred that they didn’t actually expect imminent danger at the guild. He did notice Furn looking sideways at the princess, his expression troubled. Amell had never noticed it before, but he could see what Tora meant. The way his guard moved around his sister, his watchful manner as he scanned her area, certainly conveyed an impression of protectiveness.

They’d gathered quite a crowd by the time they completed the short walk to the Enchanters’ Guild, even the queen trailing behind at a dignified distance. Amell entered the lobby just behind Bartholomew, Tora and Aurelia on either side of him, and Furn and Imelda a step behind.

“Is everything all right here?” Bartholomew asked the clerk anxiously.

“I believe so, Master Bartholomew,” the man replied, staring at the bizarre group.

“No strange visitors?” Bartholomew pressed.

The clerk frowned. “There is a visitor. He arrived about half an hour ago. He asked for an appointment with the most senior enchanter, and I sent him down to the library to see—”

“What did he look like?” Bartholomew interrupted frantically.

“Fairly tall,” the clerk said, clearly alarmed at his superior’s tone. “Short, dark hair. He was wearing a strange garment, too. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Strange how?” Amell asked, an ominous feeling creeping over him.

“Well, it was a vest, I suppose you’d say,” the clerk mused. “It was made of some kind of dark fur…except, it was too long to be fur. It was all braided. I guess it looked like…well, hair.”

Amell and Aurelia exchanged looks of alarm. Bartholomew had gone pale, but his voice was quite steady as he rapped out instructions to the clerk.

“A hostile enchanter has breached our guild. Summon every available member immediately, and send them to the library.”

On the order, Bartholomew took off sprinting down the corridor. Ignoring the protests of their various guards, Amell and Tora hastened to follow. Aurelia and Imelda were already hard on the enchanter’s heels, clearly intending to see Cyfrin brought to justice. Amell could understand their determination to be involved, but his heart was in his throat as he watched Aurelia running toward the man who had stolen her entire childhood.

Fear was still swirling within him when Bartholomew burst into an enormous library, letting out a cry the moment he passed through the door.

Amell raced in after him, his eyes widening at the sight of Cyfrin, wearing Aurelia’s hair like a vest, standing over a prone old man, who seemed to be struggling for air. The most chilling feature of the scene was the enchanter’s calm. He wasn’t doing or saying anything, just standing with his arms folded so that his hands rested on the hair at his chest, smiling unpleasantly as he watched the power at work.

“Cyfrin!” Bartholomew roared, and the enchanter looked around at last.

“Ah, Bartholomew, isn’t it? I remember you. You’ll have your turn, don’t worry.”

Bartholomew raised a hand in a movement Amell would have thought too swift for his frail frame, but Cyfrin’s parry was even faster.

“Oh, you won’t be able to best me,” he said smugly. “I have more power than all the rest of you put together. It’s time now. Time to admit I was right in my theories. Time to admit I’ve outdone you all. The guild is rightfully mine.”

Amell growled in anger, and the enchanter’s eyes passed to the pair standing just inside the doorway. “Your Highness,” he said, raising an eyebrow. His eyes traveled to Aurelia. “Or should I say, Your Highnesses? Such a daring look you’re modeling, child.”

Aurelia glared back at him. “Leave that man alone,” she demanded.

Cyfrin threw back his head and laughed. “Are you giving the orders now, Honeysuckle? How entertaining.” His smile instantly dropped, replaced by a look of utter coldness. “None of you have the power to stop me, least of all you, child. You gave up all your chance at power. So I’d recommend you don’t get in my way.”

“As always, Cyfrin,” Aurelia said angrily, “you’re a liar and a thief.” She yanked a book off a nearby shelf and flung it with all her might.

Taken off guard by the mild attack, Cyfrin did nothing to deflect it, and it whacked him full in the face.

“Well done, Aurelia,” said Imelda approvingly, reaching for a book herself.

The enchanter was less impressed. His hand flew to his temple, and he moved away from the downed guild member, growling audibly. The man rolled instantly onto his hands and knees, gasping in air, and Bartholomew ran to kneel beside him.

“You’ll pay for that, you useless child,” Cyfrin spat, ignoring the elderly men behind him. “I’m going to overpower these feeble narrow-minded enchanters one by one, and then I’ll come for you and your little prince.”

“Don’t speak to her like that,” Amell said through clenched teeth.

Cyfrin’s eyes narrowed in anger. “I’ll speak to her however I want. She’s mine to control, not yours.”

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