The cloaked man watched Cason for a brief moment before turning and heading back through the alley he had come from—without so much as a limp or quiver.
Cason hurried to catch up as Rynn and his men darted around the first corner, one hand ready to draw his weapon while the other waited for the final shift of fingers to call on his storm magic. As he spun down the alley, he slowed. He could already pick up the surprise and drawing of one weapon… two weapons. That cloaked man had led them where they needed to go.
Cason took another step past a ladder before something hummed along the back of his neck.
Magic. He focused his senses, the pull drawing his attention back to the ladder. Dozens of ancient symbols had been scratched into the wood, but his eyes were immediately drawn to one that seemed to glow with sun-blessed magic. He leaned closer and chuckled.
That cloaked figure had known exactly what symbol he was tracing. The same pattern his hand had made in the air was carved into the wood of this ladder. He knew precisely what magic Cason possessed and how to get his attention.
As Cason glanced up, he saw the path that would take him to the adjoining building. Right above where Rynn and his men were fighting Warley and Ripley.
With swift movements, Cason pulled himself up each rung and leapt onto the roof of the building. His feet had no trouble finding purchase on the smooth but slanted surface, his mind focused on the sounds of a growing fight while his eyes studied the gap he approached.
He paused at the edge, observing the clashing swords below him. Warley and Ripley might have been taken by surprise, but they were easily keeping Rynn and his men back. Xavier was already sporting blood across his cheek, the matching wound on Ripley’s left knuckles.
In a matter of seconds, Cason had picked the battle apart and come up with his own plan. Ripley had the jaw scar and was the water-blessed brother, otherwise his punch would have knocked Xavier unconscious. He favored his sword over his magic, though, which made his blade whip in precise currents as he defended himself against Xavier. Warley, the strength-blessed brother with a scar along his forehead that curved to the edge of his mouth, would need to be incapacitated first. He was already driving Rynn and Merik back toward the opening, clearing a path for he and his brother to escape.
Cason leapt from the roof, targeting the rounded plank of wood that extended between the two buildings. His hands found their hold as he swung and kicked for Warley, connecting with the man’s right side.
He drew his sword as he landed on the ground and deflected Warley’s stray swipe.
Four hells. He almost swore out loud as pain rang through his arm. How could he have forgotten that his simple sword was also weaker than the one he usually carried? Even Warley’s off-balance strike carried enough earth-blessed strength to feel like a normal attack.
Lightning sparked at Cason’s fingers as he channeled it into his blade and parried the next attack, feeling Warley lighten his grip as the shock pulsed through his body.
Cason could sense Xavier shift behind him, just enough to give himself room to sweep underneath Ripley’s sword and drive his foot into the man’s upper leg. The jolt of his magic ran through his muscles and into Ripley’s skin, causing the man to curse as his leg nearly gave out.
Cason fought the temptation to call more storm magic, fighting even harder to keep the fire inside his chest as well. Even if he hated Rynn and the men fighting with him, he couldn’t risk the damage if that magic escaped.
Warley was back to fighting Rynn and Merik, continuing to make progress toward the opening as Xavier and Ripley traded blows—enough to keep Ripley occupied on his blade and not his power. Xavier was still outmatched, but as Cason moved to fight alongside him, Ripley moved back. It allowed Xavier’s blade to cut into his forearm but the tradeoff was that the water-wielder separated enough to free his hand and call on his magic.
Water sliced through the air like a whip, cracking through the alley as it lashed toward Rynn. The water cut into the man’s shoulder and shoved him with force toward the wall of the building. Rynn smacked the brick with a grunt, knocking the air out of his lungs.
Cason was already sprinting to aid Merik, but it wasn’t fast enough. Warley’s fist met Merik’s ribs, the crack almost louder than the water or storm magic that had filled the alley moments ago. He slumped to the ground with a groan, sword clattering to the stone below.
Cason’s fist was loaded as he jumped.
Knuckles met jaw with lightning.
And Cason’s hand might have been the only thing to feel the impact.
Warley swept with his arm, strong enough to knock Cason back but not as strong as his affinity. As he landed in a crouch, Cason could see the large man twitching, slight sparks dancing between the metal objects that decorated his clothing.
Cason moved to attack again.
Failed to move.
A shiver ran through his body as he glanced down. Ice crawled up his legs, thick sheets building one after the other to keep him trapped against the stone.
He glanced to his right to find Xavier bound with a rope of ice across his ankles, thighs, and midsection. Ripley’s hands were moving in patterns, keeping his magic curled around Cason and Xavier.
Cason tightened his grip on his blade, his left hand sliding behind his back as he began to call his fire magic into his boots.
He didn’t need it.
Instead of attacking, Ripley ran past him and joined Warley—who was still fighting the twitch of lightning in his body—before they both ran away. Cason could still hear the echo of their voices as they left.
“Do you think the Night Terror set us up?”
