Chapter 15 Laurent
Chapter fifteen
Laurent
The portal was almost finished. Laurent swayed slightly, steadying himself on instinct alone.
Beads of sweat rolled down his face, silver rivulets from his forehead to his throat.
The few hours of sleep had helped replenish some of his magic, but the strain of creating a portal still weighed down his muscles, pulled at his breath.
Night had fallen over Spinella, but the tiny living room was bathed with light.
Merrick had scrounged up some half-melted candles from the kitchen cabinets, and the glowing tendrils of the portal near the burning fireplace had been growing, bigger and brighter, over the course of the afternoon as Laurent fed the portal bits of his magic.
He did feel better after resting, more energized than he’d been in weeks.
Of course, building and holding portals open for Merrick all over the Slate Kingdom had put a toll on him, but Laurent could feel the power under his skin building to a new threshold.
Every portal he made pushed his magic to a new limit, tested him and grew with him.
As a warrior, he was used to getting short sleeps and had long since trained his power to adjust.
Lenna was still curled up on the couch, skimming through a new book, a few other titles scattered at her feet, conquered.
The titles ranged from children’s stories of heroes and magical journeys to Advanced Anatomy of Gargoyle Wings–a book healers studied as they learned to navigate the intricacies of muscle and bone contained in the complex wing structures.
Her brow knotted as she sipped from a cracked pink and white mug Merrick filled with peppermint tea, the wares from shopping in town scattered around the room.
“Tell me again, Merrick, what the shopkeep said.” Laurent struggled to keep the wheeze from his voice, not wanting Merrick to see how winded he was from filling the portal.
Merrick’s face was set in a grim line. “Esmeray was spotted outside of Florra two nights ago. Queen Adara’s warriors tried to capture her, and Esmeray killed them all.
Every last one. Queen Adara is enraged, she’s setting curfews for the towns in the Obsidian Kingdom to protect the citizens against Esmeray’s wrath. ”
Lenna worriedly looked from gargoyle to fae. Laurent rubbed his face with his hands. “The city of Florra is not far from the Obsidian Palace. Esmeray could easily wane that distance and head us off.”
“It’s a risk we need to calculate,” Merrick admitted carefully, glancing at the thrumming portal.
It was Lenna who spoke up, softly, as if she didn’t want to interrupt. “Can Princess Esmeray tell if we are in the Obsidian Palace?”
Merrick shook his head. “Esmeray doesn’t have any sort of tracking magic from what we know. If we can get in, get the Prism, and get out, we can hopefully avoid piquing her interest.”
Laurent knew their chances of obtaining the Prism easily were slim, but to clear Keerian’s name, if they could confirm Esmeray killed her parents and acted alone, Queen Adara would grant them protection…
right? The Regent, Lord Magnamus, was loyal to Queen Adara.
Would Lord Magnamus help them if they begged for sanctuary against Esmeray?
They fell into an uneasy silence–broken only by the quiet scheck of a dagger Merrick sharpened against a piece of whetstone. The hulking gargoyle glanced over to Laurent’s portal every so often, as if he could gauge how far they’d travel just by peering through the swirling smoke.
“It should be ready by mid morning if I calculated correctly,” Laurent murmured to them both.
He closed his eyes, giving another morsel of magic over to the milky depths.
The portal glowed in response. Laurent felt the magic being tugged out of him, and a few breaths later, replenishing through his bones, warming his soul.
Lenna clapped her hands together, briskly hopping off the couch. “I’ll finish packing then.” Abandoning her book, she started rifling through the shopping bags. Pulling out a new black pack, she filled it with the other items Merrick purchased.
Before Merrick left the house earlier, Lenna insisted she would figure out how to pay him back, but both Laurent and Merrick shushed her, agreeing that her helping them clear Keerian’s name was payment enough.
Merrick finished with the dagger he had gotten wickedly sharp, tapping the blade against one of his horns before sliding it into the leather sheath at his waist.
The gargoyle’s packing had only taken a few moments, as Merrick never truly unpacked after arriving yesterday. Laurent was packed as well, the deep brown leather bag sitting neatly next to Merrick’s tan, worn, canvas one.
“We need to get you a new bag.” Laurent sent down the ring.
Merrick, feeling the warmth on his finger, touched his back. “Nah, it’s fine–it still holds everything I need.”
“You got that pack second hand from the barrack’s market twenty years ago.”
“What can I say? I buy good quality shit.” Merrick rolled his eyes, scratching his beard as he nodded admirably to his pack by the door.
Laurent chuckled, turning from the portal to the window, gazing out to the cobblestone streets that held the night’s bustle. Across the row, a fae female with beautiful tawny skin and flowing skirts of deep red watered pots full of plants outside her front door.
Her magic poured from her hands, watering each stalk of multicolored flowers gently. She flicked her wrist, and the stream ebbed before she moved to the next pot filled with bright orange peonies, conjuring water to trickle from her fingers to the blooms, smiling serenely the entire time.
Another lifetime, Laurent thought to himself, he would have gone over to her, complimented her hard work, inhaled the sweet smells of flora.
And fae. Maybe asked her to grab a drink with him down the street.
Behind him, Merrick started loudly counting off on the packs and supplies they gathered, accentuating the counts with a deep burp every few seconds, causing Laurent to sigh audibly.
Just a little longer, and the portal would transport them to the entrance of the Obsidian Palace, where they’d request a meeting with the Regent, and Lenna would reveal herself as the new Oracle to secure the Prism.
Where they would stay was still up in the air, but with both Merrick’s and Laurent’s past training in the Obsidian Palace, he hoped Lord Magnamus would allow their stay as guests of the Queen Absolute. Without actually having the Queen Absolute’s expressed approval, of course.
Lost in thought, Laurent felt the portal tug at him again, and he fed it another morsel of magic.
The power in the room turned into a thrum, mirroring his heartbeat.
Just a few more hours. Then, they could begin clearing Keerian’s name to Queen Adara, and petition for Esmeray to be locked up instead of killed for her numerous crimes.
“I think we are all packed.” Merrick surveyed the bags, patting his waist and the weapons attached. Laurent turned from watching the beautiful stranger to check their belongings.
A loud boom shook the house.
Laurent whirled back to the window, seeing the fae female’s face whip up from her flowers and look down the street. She gasped, and in a flash of blue light, waned away.
Laurent had his short sword out in the span between seconds, bright sparks of blue and white flames flickering down the length.
Behind him, he heard Merrick also draw, palming the newly sharpened dagger, and crouching into a defensive stance in front of Lenna.
The Oracle whimpered and shrunk behind the grey wings Merrick flared out.
“Stay behind Merrick,” Laurent hissed to Lenna. She visibly began trembling. Laurent slowly slid towards the window and peered out the side of the curtain. “Fuck,” he cursed under his breath as the chaos unfolding in the narrow street came into view.
Outside, screams of fear began, the beings on the street flying, waning, and running away. The cacophony of wings and running footsteps faded a beat later–and an unnerving silence filled the air.
“What’s going on?” Merrick hadn’t moved from his defensive position in front of Lenna. He was perfectly still, living stone made flesh.
“Go through the portal. Now,” Laurent breathed.
His green eyes flashed with power, and the portal pulsed harder.
He poured every remaining ounce of his magic at it, getting them as much distance as possible from the dark silhouette of the winged figure now standing alone in the middle of the cobblestone street, mere feet from their front door.