“Take Blossom and go somewhere safe,” he whispered to Ashlin. “I have to stay here and find the real Majis.”
She nodded again, barely moving her head.
“Open the door and take her to the dungeon,” he said loudly. “Come back when she is secured so that we can let everyone else go home in safety.”
As soon as the group of guards had led Ashlin out the door, the entire room relaxed, buzzing with conversation.
Onric turned around. How was he supposed to apprehend the real attacker now?
His father walked up the stairs to the dais, rushing to Ian and Aden.
Onric had already forgotten about Aden, and he rushed back to the raised platform as well.
“It is indeed a Majis curse.” Lord Munney stood over Aden, his arms tucked in his sleeves as he leaned over the motionless beast.
“Is he alive?” Onric asked.
“He’s still breathing,” Ian responded.
“Let’s move him out the back door,” King Frederich said. “We do not know what will happen when he awakes, and there are too many people here.”
“The real attacker is still in this room. You five,” Onric said to his guards, “continue searching among the crowds without raising their suspicions. I do not know what to look for, but see what you can find. Spread the word to the others.”
Five of the guards instantly jumped off the raised platform to carry out his orders.
Onric leaned down to help his father, Ian, and three of the remaining guards lift the beast. In his beastly form, Aden was much larger than a normal human, and the six strong men around him could barely get him off the ground.
“Lord Munney, could you lend us a hand?” King Frederich asked, his question a command.
“Of course, Your Majesty,” Lord Munney replied.
His voice sounded oddly high. When Onric looked up at him, the man’s face was covered in a sheen of sweat. His hands were still crossed, buried in his sleeves, but he stepped forward and slipped them under Aden’s body. He winced.
“Stop,” Onric said quietly, “set him down.”
They lowered Aden to the ground.
Onric glanced at the guard standing opposite him. “Secure Lord Munney.”
His father gasped in shock, but the guard responded immediately.
“What? Unhand me!” the councilor cried.
“Show me your hands.” Onric stepped around the beast’s body.
“I do not know what you mean, Your Highness,” he said, trying to twist out of the guard’s grasp.
“His hands,” Onric repeated.
The other two guards had stepped forward, and one of them grabbed the man’s wrist, twisting it upwards. Lord Munney attempted to keep his hand closed in a fist, but it was obvious that his palm was severely burned.
“Bind his arms,” Onric cried. “Do not let him use his hands.”
Between the three guards, he was quickly overcome.
King Frederich and Ian were still in shock.
Onric exhaled, the energy that had been pulsing through his body since the first sign of the attack beginning to dissipate. “He is the Majis spy.” He indicated Lord Munney.
