“Mind him,” Snorri said as Farrin used his speed magic to catch up and reached for her.
Tollak, who was as big as a bear—although he had the nimblest set of fingers Rakel had ever seen—stepped in Farrin’s way.
Farrin dodged him. When Snorri grabbed his cloak, he kicked the scout in the chest, slamming him into Tollak. Sensing he wasn’t going to let her leave the area, Rakel tried running. Farrin caught her by the wrist before she went two feet.
“No,” he said.
Rakel jolted to a stop and sagged like a ragdoll. She could hear Verglas soldiers shouting as they ran—not down the main street, but up alleyways, back inlets, and around buildings—making the Chosen army chase after them. It was going according to plan, but she needed to get to the municipal building! “Ragnar?”
Ragnar, the last of the male magic users, ambled into the city with the last wave of Verglas soldiers. “I hoped to be used as a last resort, but it seems we’ll need Genovefa after all,” the older soldier sighed. He slapped his hands together, closed his eyes, and started murmuring under his breath.
Frodi flung the fireball again, but his aim was a little off, and he would have hit Rakel if Farrin hadn’t slid forward to intercept the hit.
“We are tryin’ to hit the colonel, Frodi. Not the Princess,” Tollak said, his voice kind and cheerful in spite of the chastisement as Rakel ran past him—taking advantage of her moment of freedom.
Frodi burned red with embarrassment. “I’d like to see you do better.”
“Don’t think I could,” Tollak shrugged. “Just wanted to make sure you knew.”
Farrin glanced from his manacles to Frodi to Rakel. “They leave much to be desired,” he said. It took him a moment and a burst of his speed magic to catch her again.
Rakel tried fighting him and kicked out. She stopped when a raindrop fell and looked up at the cloudy, magic-fueled sky.I have to leave.Now! Soon she was going to be too late, and the whole plan would come down on their heads!
An otherworldly song echoed in the street that was now abandoned, except for the magic-users. A golden gate formed next to Ragnar—the oldest soldier—and out of it stepped a beautiful, ethereal warrior.
“Elf-friend Ragnar. It is my joy to answer your call. How can I assist you?” the warrior asked. Her luxurious blonde hair was twisted in an artful braid, and she had long, tapered ears, and eyes a curious shade of jade green. Several black tattoos framed her eyes and flowed down her arms. She wore beautiful, intricate armor and wielded a shortsword, and the weapon seemed to give off an aura of its own.
Rakel stared.What is an elf-friend?In all her reading, she had never heard the term. Of course, she had never read of anything like Ragnar’s transportation magic, either.
Ragnar bowed. “Thank you for answering my summons, Genovefa. My request is that you would fight this man on my behalf,” he said, indicating Farrin.
Farrin’s scowl grew sharp as he changed his stance. He released Rakel and maneuvered her behind him.
“I understand,” the warrior said. She snapped down the visor of her helm and sprang at Farrin.
Farrin, his grasp awkward due to the manacles, brought up his greatsword just in time. When the blades clashed, they showered the air with sparks, and the ground beneath them shook.
The female warrior leaped back. “He has magic,” she stated.
“S-speed and magic reflection,” Frodi stammered, staring open-mouthed.
“I see. Thank you for this information.” She dove at Farrin again.
“Princess,” Captain Halvor said, appearing at her side as Farrin and the warrior met again, this time with a thunderclash. “It’s time.”
“I apologize, it’s just…” Rakel shook her head and turned her back on the battle. She heard Frodi throw another fireball and glanced over her shoulder.
“They’ll handle it.”
“Yes,” Rakel agreed as she picked up her pace and started running. “Are we on schedule?”
“Mostly. The three other magic users under Colonel Graydim’s command are by the municipal building.”
Rakel flinched as lightning cracked in the sky. “I see. I apologize for the delay,” she said, when they skid to a stop at a corner.
Captain Halvor checked around the corner and then nodded to her. They ran again—though this time they ran into four Chosen soldiers.
“Keep moving. The municipal building is straight ahead,” he said, as he slipped his sword from its scabbard.
