Two days.

A day for the rider from the village to catch up to their caravan, and a second for Captain Blackwell and the contingent of mages with her to reach Darrowford after receiving Q’s report of the assassination attempt.

Quinten, Cedric, and Ronan watched as the group rode across the newly reconstructed bridge.

“How do you think this is going to go?” Asked Ronan. His nerves and the tightness of his throat raising his voice’s pitch.

“Not great.”

Cedric sucked his teeth before spitting to the side. “Like shit. I just hope the captain left her bulldog back with the supply train.”

The mages reached them and the captain dismounted the moment her horse stopped moving. Charging toward them, she demanded, “For the love of stars. Is it your life’s ambition to piss off your superiors? First the Academy, and now this? What was that farce of a report you sent me? Demanding I come to you, even.”

Quinten waited until she’d finished her rant and saluted the woman. Cedric and Ronan smoothly doing likewise.

The captain was momentarily taken aback as she returned the gesture on instinct. The corners of her mouth turned down in irritation and Quinten took a perverse pleasure in the tiny win.

I think I finally understand why they chose her. Babysitting duty was just the excuse. I bet the Core just wanted her out of the Capital.

Meeting her gaze levelly, Quinten said. “I’m not entirely sure how to answer that, Captain. We were attacked. The situation was far outside of anything we’ve experienced at any of the other towns we’ve assisted. Requesting your presence seemed like the logical choice in dealing with the aftermath.”

To say they’d had a rough couple of days put it mildly. Thankfully, Ronan had the energy to fully heal both Cedric and Quinten while they waited for the captain’s arrival. Ronan didn’t actually have any injuries himself, at least physically. Psychologically, the knowledge that he’d killed someone had opened its own wounds on the young man.

“We’ll see, Lieutenant. Now, show me where the incident occurred.”

Leading the contingent of mages through the village, the difference between how they’d been welcomed when they’d first arrived, and now, was staggering. Where they’d been met with smiles and expressions of excitement before, now they only saw fear and a desire for them to leave. The villagers kept their distance, watching quietly and being careful to give them a wide berth.

Upon reaching the guest lodge, Quinten indicated that they’d arrived. The captain gave the exterior a once over with a frown. “Take me in and be quiet. I want to get my own impression before hearing what you have to say.” Pointing at Cedric and Ronan, she said, “I just need one. You stay here. I don’t need to be tripping over the two of you.”

Quinten's brow scrunched, blinking slowly several times as he considered her statement. Didn’t you already read my report? Won’t that influence your observation anyway?

Regardless of his thoughts on the matter, Quinten followed her in and kept his mouth shut. He must have been too obvious with his expression, because he caught a passing elbow to the side from one of the captain’s escorts. The offended woman glared at him with narrowed eyes and a scowl on her face, that he had to admit, did make her look like the bulldog Cedric liked to compare her too.

While Quinten had been polite and personable with his fellow Core mages, making friends with some, like Lastrel. Others, he was on friendly terms with once the initial attempts to get him into their bed and wed had wound down. There were several that had never made the attempt, simply choosing to ignore them instead. There was a third group, those who refused to move past his or his friend’s rejections. Mage Fayne happened to be one of the latter. She was also Captain Blackwell’s largest ass-kisser.

Quinten ignored her as he walked by, mostly because he knew it’d only make her angrier.

The damage to the guest lodge was extensive. In the heat of the moment, Quinten hadn’t noticed just how much destruction the few minutes of fighting had caused. The smell of smoke permeated the building, thankfully covering up the scent of decomposing bodies after they’d been removed. It took less than a day for the dead to start to smell. The odor attracting flies, the sound of their buzzing wings making Quinten feel queasy. When it became clear that the captain wouldn’t be arriving that day, they’d removed them and stored them nearby.

The captain started her inspection in Cedric’s room. It being the first they passed. Quinten's assessment during the attack that nearly every piece of furniture had been destroyed, was not far off. The desk and its chair were shattered, leaving only broken pieces of wood strewn across the floor. Blood from that night still stained the floors, and without the help of a mage, likely would forever more. The bed frame was likewise broken, the mattress ripped and torn. The hay stuffing strewn all around the room from the fighting. Quinten hadn’t seen what Gifts those that attacked Cedric had access too, but from the lack of elemental damage to the room, and from what his friend had said, they were mostly physically Gifted, fighting with weapons.

After a few minutes of silent contemplation, the captain turned and left the area without a word. When she entered Quinten's room, she took in the scene with a sweeping gaze, her eyebrows raising of their own accord. He remained silent, but continued to watch her for clues into her thoughts.

“Alright. I think I’ve seen enough. According to your report, this and the room next door were the only scenes of battle. Is there anything else I need to see before we repair what we can and leave this place in peace? We are already behind.”

Clearing his throat, Quinten asked, “Do you want to examine the bodies? We removed them from the building when they started to smell and froze them to preserve as much as we could until you arrived.” He paused, hesitating a moment before continuing. “We also think that they collaborated with one of the villagers. She… threw herself at me the night of the attack. In what I am now guessing, was an attempt to separate the three of us. I also believe that she poisoned me during dinner. Headman Carson said she was found dead when he sent someone to find her after I reported my suspicions.”

The look of disgust he received when he mentioned the bodies let him know just how little combat Captain Blackwell had experienced personally.

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“You froze the bodies.” She repeated, her tone hollow and her face turning slightly green. “Why didn’t you just burn them?”

Quinten stared at her for a long moment and answered. “So that you could examine them?”

Latching onto the second part of what he’d said in an obvious attempt to focus on something less bloody, even if only marginally, she asked. “This girl. You said you suspected her of assisting the assassins and now she’s dead? How?”

“I do not know. The headman just said that she was found dead. I didn’t ask for more details. He didn’t seem all that stable at the time.”

“I will need to talk to him before we leave.” She said as she peered through the hole Quinten had created for Ronan to slip through.

“Yes, Captain.” Watching her, Quinten asked. “What happens now?”

Rising to her feet, she turned toward him. “Now? We fix what we can, pay for what we can’t, and catch back up to the caravan. We’re needed on the front lines and this doesn’t change that. We will go take a look at the—bodies.” She said with a thick swallow. “And see if we can identify or learn anything about who may have hired them. I will send a bird forward to Avoncross and another to Mage Core Headquarters so they are aware of the incident and can investigate.”

Captain Blackwell turned and walked out of the room. She made her way outside to where the rest of the Core mages waited. “Listen up,” she called, “Those that can do repair work, do what you can to fix what these three broke. One of you, make a list of what you can’t, and I’ll make sure the village is reimbursed for the damage. Everyone else, follow Mage Ashford. We’re going to see if anyone can recognize the mages that attacked them.”

Her orders were met with a flurry of activity and more than a few whispers. I guess the captain hadn’t mentioned the assassins were Gifted. I bet she wanted to confirm that for herself, Quinten thought as he led Blackwell and three of her escort around the back of the lodge and toward the earthen structure he raised to seal in the bodies.

He stopped a few feet away from the mound and raised a hand to keep the captain from getting any closer. “You won’t want to be too close when the ice melts. I doubt it’s going to be a clean process.”

She looked at him in confusion until her mind created an image that her stomach clearly didn’t like and she took a large step back, the green returning to her complexion.

Quinten raised a hand, and the dirt began to flow back into the earth like a stream of brown water. After only a moment, a block of pink-tinted ice was revealed. Clear enough to see the row of bodies arranged side by side, but opaque enough to hide the details. Quinten heard a sharp intake of breath from one of the mages behind him.

Raising his other hand, Quinten concentrated on heating up the area around the block of frozen bodies. Just enough to melt the ice, but not enough to cause them harm. It only took a few seconds for the ice to start sweating and less than a minute before it visibly began to melt. A flash of envy shot through his Empathy from behind. He turned his head and lock eyes with Fayne. Shooting her a quick grin, Quinten focused back on his task. The grin quickly left his face, and he had to fight for control of his own stomach a minute or two later when the pink tinted ice made the dead appear to be crying blood as it melted.

When the ice was gone, Quinten pushed the water deep into the earth, making the area around the bodies clear to walk on. He watched the mages as they worked their way down the line, checking each face, looking for any indication they recognized one of the dead. When Captain Blackwell froze in place, three bodies from the end. Quinten boosted his hearing just in time to hear her whisper, “Marcy… you idiot.”

Moving to stand beside the captain, he said. “You knew her.”

Blackwell looked at the sky before wiping a tear off of one cheek. “I did. We were in the same Core unit for nearly a decade until she got out a few years ago. With the new laws, she was finally able to get herself a husband.” Turning to the man beside the woman, she looked at their matching wedding bands and continued, “I’m guessing that’s him.” Following her gaze, Quinten saw it was the ice mage Ronan had killed. Looking at the woman to the man’s left, he noticed that she too wore a matching ring.

“Is it common for a mage to leave the Core and become a murder-for-hire?”

“No.” Was all Blackwell said as she spun on her heel and began walking away. She’d made it halfway to the guest lodge when she stopped and called. “Burn the bodies. They don’t deserve a service.” Before continuing out of sight around the building.

Quinten looked at the three remaining mages beside him. None of them appeared comfortable with the orders, nor had they made a move to comply. Understanding that the fact the dead had tried to kill him, likely made the task easier for him personally, he mentally pushed the corpses together before letting loose a blast of flame. He held it for several seconds before cutting it off, leaving only a blackened area of dirt and the smell of cooked meat and burnt hair.

He met Fayne’s eyes and saw something he’d never seen from her during their weeks on the road. He saw a hint of fear. She turned away, the other two following as she headed toward the guest lodge. If Quinten wasn’t mistaken, he thought they were walking faster than they had on the way over.

He remained where he was, staring down at the blackened pit of embers. A passing breeze setting the ash within spinning through the air. It was a depressing reminder that eventually, we all turn to nothing in the end.

Shaking his head, Quinten made to rejoin Cedric and Ronan where they stood, forgotten in front of the guest lodge. Each step he took seemed to add just a little more weight to his shoulders. By the time he reached them, he struggled to think of a time he’d ever felt more exhausted.

“How’d it go?” Cedric asked, eying him.

Quinten shrugged. “Could have gone worse? I don’t think we are actually in trouble, but she made it pretty clear we’re leaving to catch up to the caravan as soon as she can get us out of here. Apparently, reaching the front-lines is more of a priority for Blackwell.” A cough from Ronan had him correcting himself. “Captain Blackwell—than finding out why someone tried to kill us.”

Tired of standing, Quinten touched on his Gift and raised a bench for the three to sit on. Straddling the new seating, he continued, “the captain recognized one of them though, so we have a name to start with. The fact she was a veteran mage in the Core and not someone who did their four years and left should help.”

Ronan raised an eyebrow at that. “I’ve never heard of a Core mage turning assassin.”

“Neither had the captain. Marcy, her friend, left the Core to get married. Pretty sure she and her new family all died together.”

Cedric grunted, “Well, whoever they were. They were well organized and well equipped. You hear of assassins at court and in noble circles. But they are usually just stories, told to teach spoiled noble brats not to piss off their betters. I’ve never heard of a group of mage assassins. Whomever is behind this has some serious backing.”

Ronan drummed his fingers on the bench’s surface. A habit he fell into whenever he was in deep contemplation. “Have either of you wondered why they only attacked your rooms? No one tried to enter mine. Stars above, they didn’t even touch my door.”

He waited to see if Cedric would answer him, but when it became clear he wouldn’t, Quinten answered. “You weren’t supposed to come with us, remember? It was just supposed to be Cedric and I.”

The usually carefree smile slipped from Cedric’s face. His eyes narrowed as he braced his arms along his thighs. “Do you think it was Highbridge? We did fuck up her son.”

Shifting his head from side to side, Quinten shrugged. “I’ve no idea. Now that you mention it—Reven wore a mask the one time I saw her, but it was a different color… and according to my grandfather, I owe her now. I don’t think she’d want to kill me before she collects.“

He took a deep breath and sighed. “Either way, whoever set this up has enough connections and authority to get eight mages to agree to kill for them. That’s more than a little terrifying.”

“Great…” Ronan said in the driest tone he could manage. “Because I wasn’t sleeping bad enough already. Now, I have to worry about some powerful, shadowy figure wanting you both dead.”

“It could be worse, you know.” Cedric pointed out, his tone serious.

His remark earned raised eyebrows from both of his friends as they waited for him to continue.

Realizing that was exactly what Cedric wanted, Quinten regretted it the moment he saw the other man’s mouth curve into a smirk.

“You could wake to Fayne in your bed.” He said with an exaggerated shiver. “Talk about nightmares.”