“Stop right there, Craig! I see you. You won’t get away.” The dwarf was chasing someone, or trying to, at least. He was barely moving faster than a walk. “Lord Wexenas! He’s getting away.”
Keir had heard that name before—the constables from Fossholm that had bothered Alison about the stolen ink. And he knew the other name as well—Mr. Craig, the thatcher who tried to get her to overpay for her roof repair, who was wanted for a similar crime.
“There,” said Brytak. “He’s across the river. Heading down Orchard Lane.”
The dwarf constable was going to lose him, that was for sure. And then he’d be on Keir’s property somewhere.
That just wouldn’t do.
“Let’s get him, boys!” yelled Keir, leading the group in a run across the river.
They caught up to the constable nearly immediately, overtaking him as he objected to their interference. “Stop! This is a matter for the law!”
“Iamthe law,” yelled Idris. “Stop, thief! Your prince—hic—commands it!”
They ran past him, gaining on Mr. Craig, who realized he was trapped in a wall-lined lane with nowhere to go but over a gate.
He chose Alison’s gate to jump—that was the wrong choice.
“You will not harm my bride,” yelled Keir. “Get back here, you cur!”
Inside Alison’s property, there weren’t many good options. The orchards and fields were bare and offered no cover. His only choices were the woods beyond and the hedge maze, and he chose wrong again.
“He’s in the maze!” yelled Keir.
Keir knew Alison’s maze well by now. It only had a couple of turns, and even without seeing which way he’d went, he knew how to stop him.
“Idris!” Keir reached back for Idris’s hand. He felt the surge of the prince’s magic, which he directed at the hedges, forcing them to grow over and close the only other exit.
A young elf in a constable’s uniform was right behind them. Lord Wexenas, Keir presumed.
“Stand back, we’ll take it from here. Tirrin, I’ve got him,” said the elf. “Gods, it’s you, my Lord. My apologies,” he said, spotting Keir. And then he saw the man beside Keir. “Oh. Your royal highness. Oh, heavens help me.”
Lord Wexenas fainted.
They had just closed in on Mr. Craig when Tirrin, the dwarf constable, finally arrived.
“I’ve got him,” said Tirrin. “Thanks for the assist, boys. I can take it from here.”
“And what of this one?” asked Idris, tapping the unconscious Lord Wexenas with his shoe.
“He’ll be fine,” said Keir, bending to check.
“Would one of you mind hauling him back to the inn?” said Tirrin as he tied Mr. Craig’s wrists. “I’ve got my hands full.”
Weyland threw Lord Wexenas over his shoulder, and they followed him from the maze as Idris reopened the other exit.
“Someone’s been practicing their magic,” he said to Keir.
“I’m sorry for taking some of your power,” Keir replied. They were old friends, but perhaps stealing each other’s magic was a level of intimacy they didn’t share yet. “I panicked.”
“Don’t be. I’m not sure I could’ve aimed it straight if you had asked. I probably would’ve grown a second hedge maze on top of the first one.”
As they headed back towards the street, they found Alison’s entire hen-night party standing outside the back of her cottage, come to see what all the commotion was about.
“We caught the thief!” yelled Idris.
“Hi, Alison. I love you,” yelled Keir. All the running and the magic had him really feeling it now. “Idris, did you know that I love her?”
