Although they remained for a time, Caed merely observed Veleria and Adrian in Oakridge. To him it seemed they deliberately made small talk when outside of their room, never revealing anything more then their intention to eat or drink, or simple things like learning what minor events had happened in Veleria’s past. He knew all that, of course. Caed, once under the guise of another name, had done the digging for Alk’Hath before they chose to hire the girl. It was the sorceress’s own hubris that had led to Veleria’s demise, temporary as it was.
He could tell that Giarmund was itching for action. Vices were his game, and with Veleria beside him at all times he could only indulge in one of them. More than once had Caed caught the man eying his charge. Even so, despite his obvious withdrawals, not once did Giarmund touch her.
When they eventually found themselves in another town, growing closer and closer to Mt. Yelugh, Caed wondered if he should do anything more than observe. It was nightfall, and he was standing behind a tavern, smoking, while Giarmund had taken Veleria to their room for the night. It had been easy enough keeping up with them. He lagged behind so as to scatter suspicion, but he could always feel the remnants of Veleria’s increasing influence.
Whatever she was, she was growing stronger.
He was about to snub his smokes when cold steel greeted his neck. It took all he had to keep it from skewering him, Caed gritting his teeth as he pushed down against the weapon with his magics.
“So, that’s your game. At least one of them. You can move objects. Honestly, you wizards are so exhausting.”
The voices were many. He found them almost impossible to decipher as male or female.
“Actually, I’m a sorcerer, but I do have to agree with you. Wizards are trouble.” Caed said, the edges of a grin pulling his lips over his teeth. He pulled the weapon close enough to prick his neck, then pushed, catching the wielder off guard. Both of them fumbled, though Caed was able to put distance between himself and his unknown assailant. He held his hat in place, keeping his other hand raised now that the person in front of him was threatening him with a hand crossbow. Whoever they were, they were quick.
He was also finding them difficult to see. Something was severely hampering his vision. The fact that being touched by the person did nothing for him told him to be concerned.
In front of him, the individual put a gloved hand over their face. They proceeded to pull. With some disgust, Caed watched as his assailant tore off their literal face. His grin faltered as the tattered, paper-like features morphed into a white featureless mask, and Giarmund was revealed to be the one with the crossbow in hand. His falsities merely blended into his true self.
“Ho, I see. Daddy gave you his prized possession, did he?” Caed chuckled, though on the inside he was somewhat shaken. He hadn’t accounted for this.
“Don’t even mention Reaver in front of me.” Adrian snapped back.
“Ah, do forgive me, I seem to have forgotten about your daddy issues.” Caed removed his shades to place them above the rim of his hat. They didn’t do him any good in this light, and Giarmund wouldn’t care to see his eye. Moving his hands did get him a warning click from the crossbow, though. “So, anyway, it’s been a while, and—“
“What do you want with her? Are you with Alk’Hath?”
“Right to the point. How very Giarmund of you.” Caed placed his hands in the pockets of his black coat. “To your first point, it’s complicated. To your second, yes and no.”
“Expound.”
Without turning his gaze, Adrian set the mask on a hook on his belt, unclasped a pouch, and pulled out a few bolts for his crossbow.
Caed’s upper lip twitched. The bolts used in hand crossbows were short. They would do very little damage, but interruptions could cause his spells to falter. There was also the much more realistic problem that was the Mask of Many Faces. He had a feeling that Giarmund knew exactly how it functioned if he was confident enough to sneak up on him.
“Your girl has changed a lot since I last saw her. For one, I’m pretty sure she was dead as a doornail…”
“She’s not. Continue.” Adrian wasn’t entertaining quips.
Caed cleared his throat, “…Yes, she isn’t dead. Instead, she’s becoming a walking power source for people like me. Maybe.”
“Does Alk’Hath know about this?”
“No,” said Caed. “I have no intention of informing her. Giving Veleria to that madwoman would be a death sentence for all of us. On that note, seeing your trajectory this past week, I have to wonder if you’re stupid enough to hand her over to Crom—“
“I don’t care.”
Adrian loosed a bolt. Immediately he reloaded, and though Caed was taken aback by the sudden, sharp pain in his shoulder, he managed to pull Giarmund off his feet. The man recovered incredibly quickly and, while his free hand went to pull the mask from his belt, Caed bolted.
If he had been any random guy, then Caed would have had no reservations about killing him. Murdering the current acting head of the Giarmund Thieves Guild, however? That was a bad call. Even if he was a pathetic drunk half the time.
Adrian stared at the mask in his hand. He could go after the mage, and yet…
Pathetic.
Each voice was like a nail scraping against his skull.
You always hesitate.
“Shut the hell up.” Adrian mumbled, pulling sigil-ladden straps back over the mask. He didn’t need to hear their commentary, and it seemed to him that the mage wasn’t in the mood to fight. Given that he appeared to know what the mask was, then Adrian figured that he would be an issue eventually. Just not tonight.
He sighed, craning his neck to look at the sky above. Stars spanned the dark void, which Adrian found calming enough to lose himself in thought. If Veleria truly was a magic source, then letting Cromwell anywhere near her could be catastrophic. The lich was already the most powerful wizard in the modern era. And yet, there was something else going on. All the historical reading. The molten blood. The eyes, always glowing, even in the light.
The man composed entirely of light and fire.
The truth was, Adrian wanted to pretend he had never seen anything. He wanted to believe that he had hallucinated Veleria’s fingers healing on that night, so long ago now. Comfortable, was ignorance.
But he knew he couldn’t be in denial any longer. Not if he wanted to protect her.
And…He did want to protect her.