Page 71 of Kingdom of Locks

“Indeed,” Furn agreed gravely. He raised a questioning eyebrow. “Will we stay in the capital, do you think, Your Highness?”

Amell shook his head. “I’ll return as soon as I’m released.”

For a moment his guard was silent. “Your Highness,” he said abruptly, “I know it’s not my job to pry into your activities, only to keep you safe. But you’ve done me the honor to call me a friend.”

“I do consider you a friend, Furn,” Amell said, looking at his guard in surprise. “You’re free to say anything to me.”

“I’m concerned about you,” Furn said simply. “I don’t know where you go, or what you do there, but it has you distracted. And it’s been going on for a month now.”

Amell sighed. “You’re absolutely within your rights to be concerned,” he acknowledged. “And frustrated.” He noted ruefully that Furn was unflatteringly taken aback by this concession. “If I could tell you, I promise I would. And I truly am not in danger.” He could see his guard was still troubled. “If it makes you feel better, I’ve got Bartholomew assisting me with the…problem.” The magic would allow him to be no more specific. “I intend to seek an update from him while we’re in Fernford.”

“Master Bartholomew?” Furn repeated, his expression lightening. “From the Enchanters’ Guild? That does make me feel better, I admit.”

A shadow passed overhead, and Amell glanced up. “Is it just me, or are there a lot more dragons about since the break out?”

“It’s not just you,” Furn said, his eyes fixed on the creature flying far above. He frowned. “That one looks old. Is that one of the dragons who visited the prison when your father was there?”

Amell studied the beast, receding into the distance. “I think it was,” he said, surprised. “What were their names? Idric? And Tanin?” He frowned. “But they were elders, weren’t they? Surprising that they’re out in the human realm again so soon.”

Furn nodded thoughtfully, following the dragon with his gaze.

They reached the capital with a couple hours to go before sunset, and Amell decided to pay a quick visit to Bartholomew on his way to the castle. After flicking a coin to a pair of nearby children only too eager to hold the well-trained royal horses, Amell strode into the guild’s lobby, Furn close behind him.

The guard looked around with interest. “I’ve never been here before,” he commented. “Impressive building, isn’t it?”

Amell nodded vaguely. “Is Bartholomew in his study?” he asked the clerk. “No, that’s all right, I know the way.”

Leaving Furn to his observation, he hurried down the corridor and knocked at Bartholomew’s door. He was halfway in before the enchanter had finished his reply.

“Prince Amell,” Bartholomew smiled. “Please sit.”

“Thank you,” said Amell, doing so. “I don’t have long, I’m afraid. I’m expected at the castle, but I was hoping you could give me an update on our project while I’m passing.”

Bartholomew nodded. “Of course. I’ve been storing magic gradually since last we spoke, as much as I could spare given current events.” He opened a drawer, and pulled out a simple ring. “I’ve settled on this as an appropriate vessel.”

“Is it an artifact?” Amell demanded.

“It will be,” the enchanter said calmly. “I’ve only just begun to weave magic into it, though. And it’s still just a test. I’m perfecting the parameters, and I imagine it will go through several iterations before we can properly tell whether it will work.”

Amell nodded. He would have liked things to move faster, but some progress was better than none.

“Keep me updated,” he said, making as if to stand.

“You know,” Bartholomew said, causing him to pause, “you said it was for you, but it occurred to me after we spoke that you shouldn’t have any need of protection against restraining enchantments. Not unless you’re leaving our borders.”

“What do you mean?” Amell asked.

“Well, you’re the heir to Fernedell’s throne.”

Amell blinked at the old man. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Bartholomew smiled. “Either your education was lacking, or your memory fails you. Remember that I told you that the magic we know isn’t the strongest force in this world?”

Amell nodded.

“Well, then, that will give some context for our basic understanding that there is a more foundational type of magic on this land, which runs through your royal blood.”

“I have magic?” Amell asked, startled.

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