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realized caustically. He’d bought enough to last three days for the two of them, convinced that this would take at least that long.

He shrugged as the boy ran merrily through and chuckled at his enthusiasm. Most first-time portal-users were incredibly hesitant to walk through and he had no experience with them to his knowledge, yet he hurried through with excitement rather than fear.

The older mage followed, stepped into the gateway, and made a note to examine it when he returned. He had to know what Devol had done.

Although perhaps it would be better to simply watch the boy.

Chapter Seven

Devol took several cautious steps toward the Templar guildhall and studied it curiously as the howling winds of the mountain pushed against him, although it did little to slow his march to the gates. Vaust stopped in front of the portal and watched him move closer to his destination.

As the gate closed behind him, the mori noted a small change in the boy. He was still determined but he saw an apprehension in the young Magi, whom he had only seen cycle through feelings of excitement, belligerence, and curiosity. He seemed almost humbled at this moment as he approached the gates but he did not falter.

His demeanor was reassuring. He had wondered if he would race merrily toward the hall once he had arrived but this display, no matter how brief, did show that a part of him understood the gravity of the situation ahead of him.

The young Magi reached the edge of the moat that surrounded the castle. He stared down what was at least a fifty-yard drop into the chasm, and the water looked deep. After a moment, he focused on the castle and studied it more thoroughly. Even with the picture the portal had provided, he could not have imagined its scale at the time. It was massive—well beyond any of the halls he had known even in Monleans, where it was said that the hunter and knight halls were the largest in the world. This eclipsed even them.

He counted seven spires in all, four at each corner of the castle and three that were stationed in a triangular pattern and built into the center of the façade. Numerous pennants fluttered over the front entrance, and he recognized the green, white, and golden ones with the large tree and sun emblem—those of Arkadia, the realm of humans, wildkin, and fleuri.

At the bottom of the banner were seven other insignias and one was a sword pointing to the same sun emblem that adorned the insignia of his realm. It was that of Renaissance, his kingdom. He was more than familiar with it, given that he had seen his father in armor almost every day of his life, where the emblem shone proudly on his chest plate.

The other icons were probably from the other kingdoms and meant to show that this was a realm of seven kingdoms united together—although with what he knew of history, that seemed to be a more noble goal than actual reality. He turned his attention to the spires and noted the large bowls that sat on top, each with a large fire that the wind from the mountain did nothing to extinguish. In fact, it might have helped to keep them ablaze.

Slowly, he shifted his gaze to the gate in front of him. The large drawbridge was raised, waiting to be lowered to invite visitors inside. In the small space above the entrance and the bridge, large spikes provided hints of a gate that could be used if the castle was ever attacked.

Devol released a long breath, placed the bag of food at his feet, and rested his hands on his waist as he watched his companion approach. “Hey, Mr. Lebatt?

“Yes, Devol?” the mori asked, stepped beside him, and let his gaze trace the familiar structure. “It’s quite a sight, is it not?”

“Oh yeah, it’s amazing,” he replied but a questioning tone still lingered in the compliment. “But I…”

Vaust looked at him in surprise. “Yes?”

He scratched his head a little sheepishly. “Is this another test?”

“Not one I’ve devised, why?”

The boy frowned and gestured at the castle. “Then shouldn’t the bridge come down?” he asked and pointed at it. “You said you were a Templar too, didn’t you?”

His companion frowned. “Yes, and I have to say you’ve taken that information with rather less enthusiasm than I expected.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” He smiled a little awkwardly like the thought had only now occurred to him. “I thought it was a joke at first, and I was in a foul mood at the time.” He looked at the bridge again. “But in that case, why haven’t they lowered it? I know they don’t know who I am, but they should lower it for you, right? Is there a password or call sign or something?”

Vaust chuckled. It was amusing to see him in the moments where his knowledge and understanding gave way to childish myths and games. But he did have a point. “Why yes, there is a password.” He opened one of the pouches on his belt and retrieved a small purple crystal with a silver band around it. “Give me a moment and you’ll hear it.”

Devol gaped as the crystal began to glow as Vaust raised it to his head. A voice resonated in his mind. “Eh, who is it?” the speaker demanded and the boy looked around to see where it was coming from.

“It’s me, you dullard,” his companion replied with mirth in his voice, although his lips did not move. “Lower the bridge. Isn’t that your responsibility? Am I interrupting a nap?”

“Vaust? Well now, you’re alive!” The man dissolved into laughter and the boy now realized it was being emitted by the crystal. “It looks like I owe Zier a splint now. But why are you all bothered? You were supposed to be here yesterday.”

“I had an interesting meeting,” the mori explained with a smile at Devon. “I’ve brought a visitor with me—a young Magi

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