An Ocean of Lies (AFOS II)

Chapter 10: Laurentius

Adela had been precise: get in, get out, don't get caught. The best instructions he'd ever gotten in his life, so detailed. The wards around the palace were simple, intended to keep people, mostly Onturians, out.

The rest he had to deduce on his own. Onturian Knights couldn't fly and birds couldn't sense magical barriers: the top of the palace was most likely completely unguarded. If not, Koldo's wand would come in handy, but he was positive it wouldn't come to that. He didn't want to risk bringing it with him, why not put a ribbon around it while he was at it? He could attach a perfumed letter, maybe some candy. Bringing it there would mean giving it to Volstad anyway. He had to give it to Wyn, for safekeeping, the girl would be happy to see him. How long had it been since they last saw each other, two days? It seemed like a lifetime. Things had a way of blowing up into pieces, all at the same time.

Laurentius went up to his room, charmed the door closed, warded it against unwanted visitors. His body couldn't take it anymore. He threw himself on the bed, placed his head on the pillow and woke up hours later, surrounded by darkness and feeling ridiculously thirsty. It took him a moment to gather his thoughts. He checked his timeteller on the bookshelf, the tiny circle to the left pulsated on the number eight, the triangle approached the six. It wasn't that late, was it? And Adela told him to wait until sunset, it was late enough, wasn't it? He drank some water from a water jug, rinsed his mouth with a violet cordial, fixed his hair, his eyeliner. He powdered his nose a bit, he could see a little shine. No perfume, animals didn't go around smelling like warm summer afternoons. He had to be careful. He wrapped Koldo's wand in a silk scarf, put it in his cape's pocket. He undid his door's spells, Adela would no doubt want to see him as soon as possible, judging by the notes stuck to the door. Impatient, wasn't she? He smirked. Being solicited always felt good. But he had kept her waiting long enough. He had to hurry if he wanted to meet Wyn on his way to the palace.

Adela handed him the letter without looking up from her paperwork. Laurentius faked a whole conversation with her, good afternoon, how are you doing? Oh, well, thank you so much for going through all the trouble to get this letter to Volstad, I'm very grateful. Nothing. Not even a smile from her, not even a scowl. Her only response: opening the door with a flick of her hand. He considered himself dismissed.

"Goodbye to you too," he muttered. "Oh no, it's no trouble at all, I do this every day," that woman was frustrating.

Getting out of the College of Magi proved to be problematic. He hadn't anticipated a circle of Onturian knights around the door, unarmed, but he knew better than to trust what they seemed to be. Those arms they had were as powerful as any blade. There were knights standing near every exit, kept out of the college only by Adela's enchantments, probably some new ones, casted by his colleagues. He had missed a lot, apparently, while taking a nap. The halls were deserted, but he could hear anxious whispers and the crackle of magic coming from behind closed doors. The air was rarified, thick, his silk doublet felt like raw wool on his skin. He had to get to the rookery, near the west tower, all the way across the dorms, near the library. Adela's letter felt like lead in his pocket, what was he thinking? Getting there, by himself? Volstad hadn't seen his face back in the forest, had he? Of course he hadn't, he had been inside Koldo's lab, working on Jo's crystal. He didn't know who he was, he wouldn't recognize him. He could, however, recognize his tattoos. His left arm was covered in silvery-green vines, all the way down to his fingers. He could use a glamor, but keeping his eyes hidden took priority. He couldn't risk it. He ran back to his room, quickly, to get a pair of gloves, decorative enough not to raise suspicions, fashion was the only acceptable excuse to wear gloves indoors, everyone knew that. Well, everyone who mattered, at least. Ok, almost. He had a feeling Jo, Alaric, and Wyn didn't care much for such things, but he was dashing enough for them all.