Rune Mage [Fantasy/Adventure | Book 1 +2 | Complete]

Chapter 72: These Unlikely Allies

A cart stood in the distance. The snuffles of horses reached Seiren's ears. She was surprised there were creatures that were able to function in this kind of temperature. As they approached, another figure appeared beside the horse, one that froze her to the spot and revived the searing pain in her abdomen once more.

"You!" she snarled, reaching into her pockets for runes. Rowan shot out an arm across her chest, placating her intended attack. Halen Ashworth merely observed her with cold indifference. The wound from the deep cut Seiren had inflicted upon her left arm had healed to a pink, thick scar.

"Easy, Nithercott," said Southwark, frowning. "You're the one needing our help."

"She gored me in the stomach, so excuse me if I'm less than delighted to meet someone who tried to murder me twice."

"You used organic magic on me, you little brat," said Ashworth. "It was just as well you haven't the faintest clue what you were doing, or I'd be dead by now."

Seiren whirled around, incredulous and -- although she'd never admit it -- a tad frightened, to face Rowan.

"Do you have any brighter ideas that come more from up here--" She pointed at her temple. "--than out the other end?! She tried to kill me!"

"You used organic magic?!" Rowan said, his eyebrows disappearing into his hair. Seiren sighed in exasperation.

Why does he care more that I used illegal magic than us teaming up with the woman who literally tried to gut me like a pig?!

"Shame it didn't work," Seiren retorted, scowling.

"You powered it with burst, that's why," said Ashworth with a sniff, those cold blue eyes watching her warily. "If you'd used flash magic, you'd have killed me within a day."

"With talents like her, we stand a chance against the likes of Butterworth, Halen," said Southwark.

"Speaking of which, why do you have the asshole of the century unconscious behind you? Wait, let me guess -- he was trying to save Nithercott's ass. Again." Ashworth cocked her head, her attention diverted to the unconscious man half-buried in the snow Relish and Southwark had built up along their walk. "And Tesla, what happened to your face? Is this that asshole's doing or the brat's?"

Seiren bristled.

Southwark held up a peaceful hand. "We saw our opportunity. We took it. It would be hard to take him on face-to-face. Woodbead and Nithercott here were great distractions."

"Should have killed him whilst you had the chance," Ashworth said, disdainful. "You realise he nearly killed me last time? You've let him live to tell the tale."

"We need someone on the inside to tell us what the king's mages have in store for the country."

"And you think he'll talk? Please."

"At least he's a useful bargaining chip if there are people in Benover we need to keep safe," said Rowan.

"Whoever's getting this special treatment, I sure hope they're worth it, Woodbead," said Relish, grave. "One king's mage dead is a big swing in our favour in the battle to come."

"I hope they're worth keeping Butterworth alive for, Bellamy," Ashworth said to Southwark with her nose turned up.

"They've seen first-hand what Pollin and his weasel mages are truly like. They have the same motive as us now, Halen. We can trust them."

Ashworth merely sniffed.

"Let's get this going," said Relish with a growl. With strength surprising for someone with the same build as Seiren, she lugged Butterworth's unconscious body onto the cart and hopped on. Southwark took the reins of the two horses at the front. Seiren awkwardly took a seat opposite Rowan, beside Ashworth, who stared resolutely ahead, not engaging with her.