Chapter 32
“Captain Short!”
Rain blinked, genuinely taken aback. She was the last person he expected to see on his squad. He climbed into the wagon, choosing the seat opposite her.
“What a pleasant surprise. You must have pulled some strings to be here.”
“Good evening, Your Highness,” Captain Short replied, saluting along with the other three soldiers.
“Yes, sir. After many heated disagreements regarding your personal security, I couldn’t appoint anyone other than myself.
” She sat proudly; uniform pressed to perfection.
“Only the best of the best at your service, sir.”
Rain smirked. Very surprising indeed.
Hamish took the seat beside him, placing his pack between his boots as the tray of the wagon was secured. The vehicle growled to life, rattling as it carried them toward their drop-off point.
“Allow me to introduce the squad,” Short continued. “You’ve met Corporal Hamish; our controlled explosives specialist. Excellent at dismantling locks with minimal disturbance.”
Hamish lifted his chin in acknowledgement, already tinkering with a gadget from his pack.
“Then we have Corporal Maren, we call her Glass. Long-range over-watch and reconnaissance. She’s our eyes.”
Maren, seated beside Short with a sniper rifle resting against her knee, winked at Rain. He raised an eyebrow in return.
“Sergeant Vass; hand-to-hand combat—”
“Nobody ever sees this coming!” Vass cut in, throwing mock punches and flexing his biceps.
Maren swung a fist low between his legs. He deflected it with impressive speed. Short glared at them both. Neither looked remotely apologetic.
“Vass is trained in multiple martial arts,” she continued drily, “honoured for his stealth, despite his current impression. And to your left; Sergeant Renn. I believe you served together back when he was still a private. He’s our navigation specialist and expert tracker.
He’ll ensure we get in and out unnoticed. ”
Renn shifted forward and held out his hand. Rain grasped it warmly.
“Good to see you got the recognition you deserved,” Rain said.
“Thanks, brother.” Renn’s smile was genuine. Vass glared enviously.
Rain suppressed a grin and scanned their energies. He was impressed. They far exceeded every expectation. He hadn’t believed the general when he’d said his father had prioritised his protection. Instead, he had expected trained babysitters.
“Now that you’re acquainted. Renn, lets talk strategy,” Short ordered.
“Yes, ma’am.” Renn pulled a map from his pack, unfolding it across their knees. Instinctively, everyone straightened the edges, holding it taut.
He leaned over the parchment, tapping a thin charcoal line. “We enter the Red Kingdom here. Patrols cross every half hour, meeting at these checkpoints.” Tap. Tap. “If we get the timing wrong, we’re cornered before we even step onto Red turf.”
His voice remained calm as he looked to Rain.
“You use your mojo to detect. We get in clean. Then we have a six-hour trek through the eastern range, it will be hot, dry and brutal but clear of detection until we reach the outskirts of Burgundy. That puts us at roughly 3:30 a.m. local time. Sun rises at 4:20. We have fifty minutes of coverage. Once the sun’s up, we must stay sharp. ”
He tapped three small rectangles. “Our target is here. Three identical towers. The central one holds our objective. Informant says each tower is manned by five guards—‘guardians,’ apparently. We don’t know if that’s an elite title or a fancy word for amateurs. We must act with caution.”
“This sounds too easy,” Rain muttered.
“What else do we know?” Vass asked. “What are we collecting?”
“The directive is vague,” Short said as the truck jolted over rough terrain. They braced themselves. Renn folded the map away. “We’ve been ordered to stand down once we reach the target and allow Prince Rain to retrieve whatever is inside. Our job is to get him in and out without trouble.”
“It’s a who, not a what,” Rain said, scanning their energies for signs of awareness. Surprise rippled through the squad.
“We’re retrieving a person?” Vass clarified.
“An aetherial, I presume. Female.” Rain rubbed his face, frustration simmering.
“Whoever she is, my father wanted me blind. We’re not prepared to transport a captive.
We don’t know if she’ll come willingly, if she’s weakened or if she is able to travel.
Someone— likely the King, has gone to great lengths to keep this mission a mystery, and it puts us all at risk. Thoughts, Captain?”
“Are you certain it’s an aetherial?” Short asked.
“I terrorised the information out of the General. I’m positive.”
Vass snorted. “You terrorised the General?”
Short gawked. Rain nodded. After a beat, she smiled; brows raised in approval.
“I agree. This puts immense risk on our heads. We’ll need to consider multiple outcomes and rely heavily on your ability to improvise.”
“Sir—Royale—Your Highness—how the bloody hell are we meant to address you?” Glass asked, exasperated.
“Royale is fine,” Rain said.
“Right. Thanks. Royale—call me ignorant, but why would the king send you? His only son and heir. I could maybe understand retrieving a human captive, though you lot wouldn’t bother with that but another aetherial? That’s reckless. We don’t know their origin or power. They could end you.”
“The king doesn’t usually care for my well-being. That’s your first mistake,” Rain said, leaning back. “I’m the pawn he uses for his own benefit—usually to inflict me upon his enemies.”
“Brutal,” Glass muttered.
“At the moment, I’m flavour of the month. He sees me as an asset he doesn’t want to lose. With that in mind, I believe this mission is meant to be straightforward. Only five guardians keeping her contained. She can’t be a threat to me.”
“That’s the confidence we like to hear,” Hamish said as his gadget snapped shut.
“And” Rain added, “he has you five accompanying me. I can only imagine your real mission is to ensure I don’t fuck up or step out of line.”
Short’s honey-brown eyes confirmed it before she spoke.
“I may have received verbal orders that suggest you are correct,” she admitted.
Captain Short was known for her intimidating presence and iron will.
Rain sensed both but beneath them, a surprising loyalty.
Even fondness. “But it is our honour and duty to serve the crown. Your safety is our priority.”
They fell into contemplative silence for the remainder of the journey, enduring a three-and-a-half-hour drive along the Grey-to-Red border until they reached the secluded crossing point.
As soon as they arrived, they clambered out of the wagon, stretching their limbs. The air was thick and humid; the scent of damp soil and algae clung to the night. Cicadas shrieked in the trees, their high-pitched chorus echoing across the stillness.
The squad removed their outer shirts, switching to base layers better suited for the heat. Hamish whistled and tossed a large field pack toward Rain. Rain caught it by the strap, shoved his shirt inside, and slung it over his shoulders, adjusting the straps.
While the others strapped weapons to their bodies, Rain scanned the area. Nothing but wildlife. No mortals. No Aetherials. They were alone.
“Does the prince not carry weapons?” Vass asked, patting down his chest, now bristling with twelve blades.
“I am the weapon,” Rain replied, arrogance curling through his voice like smoke.
“We have to trigger your emotions though, right?” Vass asked, sliding two more knives into his boots. “That’s how it works, yeah?”
Rain didn’t bother answering. With a flick of his power, he whipped a knife clean out of Vass’s boot.
The Sergeant jerked upright fast, but not fast enough.
The blade hovered at his throat, pressed lightly against the jugular.
Vass froze, hands raised in surrender, an impressed grin spreading across his face.
“Okay, point taken. Don’t mess with the prince.”
Rain guided the blade back into its sheath with a lazy flick.
“Call me Royale. Or Rain. No need for formality in the field.”
“Royale is as capable in combat as you are, Vass,” Renn said, stepping up beside Rain. “Even without his powers. Actually, I’d pay good money to watch you two spar.”
“Oh, now that sounds like my kind of game!” Hamish chimed in.
“I wouldn’t want to mess up His Highness’s pretty face,” Vass teased, cracking his knuckles.
“Although my face is incredibly beautiful,” Rain said, deadpan, “I doubt you’d land any real hits. But I understand. Your mortal bones are fragile. I wouldn’t want to fight me either.”
Everyone except Vass snorted.
“My mortal bones are protected by steel muscle,” Vass declared, flexing a glistening bicep. The humidity had already coated him in sweat.
“Okay, you big oaf, let’s get moving,” Glass said, clapping him on the back as she stalked toward the greenery.
The rest followed. The wagon rumbled away, leaving them alone in the dark.
Their eyes adjusted to the night. The ground was uneven; the long grass bogged with water. Rain’s vision cut through the shadows with ease; he could see every tuft, every hidden puddle. The soldiers, however, stumbled and splashed, soaking their uniforms.
They quickly adjusted formation, falling into line behind Rain.
“Erm, Renn,” Rain murmured, “I don’t recall you mentioning an electrical fence.”
A heavy pressure thrummed through his bones, vibrating stronger with each step. Then it came into view—an enormous electric fence stretching between the trees, humming with lethal energy.
“A powerful, high-as-fuck electric fence.”
“My intel didn’t mention any fence,” Renn said, sloshing through puddles to join him. “Are you sure it’s electric? I can’t see any signs.”
“No signs. But yes, it’s electric. I can feel it from here.”
“More than a cattle zapper?” Hamish called from the back.
“Yep. Enough to blow the cattle into next century.”
“Shit. Well, nothing I’ve got will help if I can’t get close without risking me bollocks.”
They reached the tree line. Shadows pooled at their boots where the bog gave way to the glinting barrier.
The fence stood tall and unnatural—an iron spine of lightning carved through the forest. The charge licked at the water, alive and hungry.
Rain felt it thrumming through his ribs, each pulse a ticking threat.
“New construction,” Hamish muttered, crouching low. “High voltage. Too clean for grounding rods. Even if we had them; cut the current and alarms go off.”
Captain Short’s jaw tightened. She scanned the ground, the wires, the trees leaning toward the barrier.
“Options?”
“I’m more concerned about the water than the alarms,” Rain said. Even the concrete on the other side held shallow pools. “Any attempt to disarm it and we fry.”
Hamish’s gaze drifted upward, letting out a grunt as an idea formed.
“We don’t go through it. We go over it. That oak there—is close enough to run a traverse.
” He pointed to a gnarled trunk leaning toward the fence, its upper limbs stretching over like a beckoning arm.
“Anchor here, shoot a line across, ride it above the wires. Risky, but it’s our only shot. ”
Silence settled, broken only by the hiss of the bog and the crackle of the current.
“Okay. I can work with that,” Rain said.
He approached the oak, pressing his palm to the trunk. Warm, ancient energy hummed beneath the bark; trees always grounded him. He narrowed his gaze at the opposite side. Red had butchered the habitat to build this monstrosity. His Aetherial heart clenched at the disrespect.
“The nearest supportive tree is that sister oak over there. Are your ropes long enough?”
Hamish pulled out a coil of rope. “Close, but yeah.” He tied a smooth stone to the end. “We get one shot.”
“Give it here. My power will guarantee it.”
Hamish handed it over. Rain tested the weight, stepped back, and cast it in a smooth arc. It whistled through the night, clearing the fence. His power caught it mid-drop, flinging it across the clearing. The stone looped around a thick branch, knotting itself securely.
Rain anchored the other end to the nearest branch, tightening the line until it was taut as a bowstring.
“Traverse is live.”
One by one, they clipped in. Corporal Maren went first; calm, steady. The rope sagged under her weight, but she moved with precision. Still every groan of the line made Rain’s chest tighten.
Renn crossed next; light as a shadow.
Vass followed; heavy but controlled.
Short went fourth; eyes sharp even mid-climb.
The others followed suit and Rain clipped in last. He swung out, muscles coiling as he moved hand over hand. The current beneath him roared louder than his heartbeat. Very little scared him but this raised every hair on his body.
Don’t touch the wire.
Halfway across, a muffled curse snapped his focus upward.
Vass’s boot—slick with bog water—skidded on the rope. His body pitched sideways, dropping low. His heel skimmed dangerously close to the top wire.
Blue sparks erupted. The fence reached for him like a starving beast.
“He’s too close…” Hamish hissed.
Rain didn’t think. He reached.
A violent jerk of power snapped Vass’s feet upward, yanking him away from the current. His boot had been millimetres from contact.
Vass grunted, wrapping his legs around the rope, hands clenching tight. The squad froze, breath held, eyes locked on the crackling threat.
“Keep moving,” Short hissed. “Now.”
One by one, they made it across. Boots thudded softly onto the concrete road beyond. Relief chorused through the squad, thankful to be back on solid ground.
Rain untied the knots in a heartbeat and Hamish reeled the rope in. Within a minute, the line vanished into their packs, and they were back on the move.
They slipped into the shadows of the Red Kingdom, the hum of the fence fading behind them like a warning whispered into the night.