Page 49 of Kingdom of Locks

Amell was a little surprised when they emerged from the trees to see that it was only about an hour past noon. It felt like a different day that he’d welcomed the chance to sneak off from his father’s inspection of the prison, hoping to heroically discover some of the fugitives with the help of Rekavidur’s gift.

He was struggling to remember why he cared about the fugitives now, but he received a brutal reminder the moment they entered the prison compound.

“Whoa, something’s going on,” Furn commented, his gaze passing mildly over the kerfuffle that greeted them.

“We’d better find my father,” Amell said grimly, dismounting and handing his horse to a hovering soldier. The two of them strode toward the ruined section of the prison, where King Bern could be seen deep in conversation with the warden.

“What’s happening, Father?” Amell asked sharply, alarmed by the look on his father’s face.

The king turned to his son. “Two of the fugitives have surfaced,” he said grimly.

“They’ve been caught?” Amell asked. “That’s excellent news, isn’t it?”

“They haven’t been caught, Your Highness,” the warden said heavily. “We know for certain that they were five leagues east of here three hours ago. But where they are now, we couldn’t say.”

“How do you know they were…” Amell trailed off as it suddenly clicked. “What did they do?”

King Bern’s face was as grave as Amell had ever seen it. “They attacked a farmhouse. The farmer is gravely injured, and his family were held in a cellar with a restraining enchantment. The two fugitives stripped the house of all the valuables they could carry.”

“Which means they now have horses,” the warden interjected. “So they’ll make better time.”

“They could be halfway to Bansford by now,” Amell said.

His father nodded. “I’ve already sent an express to King Rhinehart.”

Amell frowned, thinking of Honeysuckle trapped in her tower with all these criminals on the loose. She was supposed to be hidden, but he’d managed to find her, with his artifact.

“You said they used a restraining enchantment?” he said. “That’s powerful magic, isn’t it? How strong are these fugitives?”

“I’m almost certain I know who we’re dealing with, Your Highness,” the warden answered. “And unfortunately they have considerable power. They were some of our most magically gifted prisoners. This latest news answers the question as to whether the explosion destroyed their individual restraining enchantments, which prevented them from using magic. If they were still in place, they’d never have been able to perform the magic necessary to restrain people in a cellar.”

“But how could an explosion destroy individual restraining enchantments without harming the people to whom they were attached?” Amell objected.

“I think it’s clear to say that the explosion was more than it appeared,” the warden said. “It must have involved targeted magical attack.”

Furn shifted beside Amell, and he glanced at the guard. “What is it, Furn?”

“Nothing, Your Highness,” Furn said self-deprecatingly.

“If you have any insights, I’m sure my father would like to hear them,” Amell told him.

King Bern looked up. “What’s that?”

Looking uncomfortable, Furn bowed. “I didn’t mean to intrude, Your Majesty. I only wondered, from what was just explained, if the explosion might have been more of a diversion. Perhaps it wasn’t the attack so much as a way of hiding the true attack, which was magical in nature.”

King Bern considered the guard thoughtfully. “A concept worthy of further consideration, Sir Furnis.” He looked at the warden, who murmured something to one of the prison guards, standing close at hand. The man took off at a smart trot.

“It will be considered, Your Majesty,” said the warden, bowing first to the king, then inclining his head respectfully to Furn.

“Good thought, Furn,” Amell said brightly. He turned to the king. “Father, I searched the forest again this morning. And I found—” He ground his teeth in frustration as the words were blocked by the magic. “I think the area is worthy of further exploration.”

“The woods have been thoroughly searched,” the king said, with a touch of impatience. “And, as this morning’s unfortunate event has shown, the fugitives haven’t hung around this close by. They’ve taken off across the continent.”

A shout drew all three men’s attention, and Amell’s heart lifted at the sight of a dozen prison guards, escorting two men and one woman, all with unflattering billowing clothes, and roughly shorn hair.

“Three more!” he cried in delight. “That only leaves…what? Twenty-two?”

“Only?” King Bern repeated, but his face was a little lighter as he turned to the guards. “Well done.”

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