Lone Gold, Daring Purple ✓ | Sorcerers, framed, runaway

31: He was such a Narsy fool!

Soon, Cypur was home. Almost. After a smooth landing on the platform in the Fourth Ring, he peeked out the window, but couldn't tell where he was. There was a gate behind the facility, and he almost glimpsed a sign, but a brush of trees concealed the view. He knew of one port facility in Cormeialette, but not anywhere else. For security reasons, they were kept secret.

And invisible. He recalled. But that's up for debate.

As the ship shut off its engines, he waited until the door opened to make a jump for it.

Footsteps approached.

Damn! Cypur swiftly hid between boxes, curling up as tight as he could. From the shadows, he saw a female Sorcerer wearing the tight uniform that those in lower police ranks always wore. He'd seen a few of them always looking like they'd been inappropriately fitted for some sick aesthetics. Her short-cropped yellow hair was an unusual mark and she wreaked of stale spells. If he'd known how to undo a spell with a snap of his fingers, he could reveal her true looks in a flash.

Like we did in the olden days. Cypur couldn't help but wish he'd browsed those forbidden archives more. She came so close to his hiding spot, nearly climbing into the ship. He kept as still as he could, shallowing his breathing.

"Autopiloted," she commented in an icy tone. She called behind her. A male with green hair came over muttering swear words under his breath and yanked her out. They fell backwards on the ground together and struggled in the mud for good thirty seconds.

Cypur held in a mirth. What were these jokes of policecitizens of the Fourth Ring? Like the policewoman. They were all jokes!

Once he was sure they were gone, he carefully emerged, locking his eyes on a pile of crates near the platform. Dashing out of the ship, he dove between the stack of crates.

"Starlights," he whispered, heart thumping. Voices could be heard talking about getting the ship back to the Fifth Ring. Cypur chanced a peek, slipping back into the shadows.

There were three adult, experienced, policing Sorcerers blocking his way to the gates. The other direction was dense forest. Being held back to Apprentice level meant that he could only teleport to places he could clearly see. Cypur had good eyesight, but not that he could see through trees.

Damn, he mouthed. The only way out of this was to wait for them to leave.

Or cause a diversion?

Cypur blinked. Was that his thought or his Faud's?

Faud?

What?

Did you tell me something?

No, why? His Faud sounded genuinely perplexed.

Would his Faud, or could his Faud lie to him? Didn't he already though? About the reason he killed?

Cypur shook his head. But I figured out why. It was to protect. He didn't even tell me. But why would I think outside of Sorcerer rules when I've...

He didn't have time to finish that thought. The Sorcerers' footsteps were nearing.

"Jaspengiven!" the commander yelled, making him flinched. "It's an order, not an if-you-can-possibly request. The policeship should be in Port Five. Get it over there. And grab those crates while you're at it!"

There was no time to think. Cypur had to do. A mischievous grin tugged at his lips. It was like when Polar Eyes jumped up and down on that bridge knowing the policemen couldn't condemn a life-sentences criminal any further. And whatever they didn't know about the Unescaping Escape Artists, would remain their own mystery.