TRISTAN

I stood as the others laughed at my expense. Vincent's words only reinforced what we all knew: I could get away with so much more than the rest of them. Having a soft and gentle face lended me a look of innocence. Bookish Tristan belonged in a library doing research, not out in the field trying to bring down a tyrant. Home base had even tried to push me into it until I proved my worth. I may not have looked the part, but that worked to my advantage.

More often than not, Monty had been mistaken for kidnapping me.

I sighed and looked back down at Vincent. He had managed to sit up and was lazily running his fingers over the buttons on his coat. I couldn't guess at how long we needed to wait until he wouldn't be a stumbling, drugged out mess. It was already early afternoon. We needed to get moving.

Olwen gestured to the door that led to the underground tunnels. "Don't really wanna go through the sewers, but it might be our best option right now."

I shook my head. "They're gonna be watching every exit. They've already started going through the houses and shops where I found him," I complained.

Surprisingly, Vincent spoke up. "He won't let the local guards know what's happened," he said through a yawn. He pouted at my knees for a moment.

"Why not?"

Olwen nodded her head at Vincent. "Can't let anyone know they screwed up. Can't have anyone thinking the High Sorcerer could be outsmarted."

Vincent nodded along as he pulled his braid over his shoulder and began to play with the end. "I don't believe he would let more than his personal guards and those who were present know exactly what happened. If they survive the week." He stared at the floor between his feet as his voice grew softer. "Examples must be made."

Olwen glared down at Vincent. "Your father's an asshole."

"Mm. That hadn't escaped my notice."

Monty tugged on my arm as he nodded sharply to the corner. I joined the others as he spoke in a hushed whisper.

"Are we actually gonna trust him?" he asked, shooting a doubtful glare at Vincent. "This could be a trap."

Mr. Almers pursed his lips and searched the low ceiling for answers. Maybe that ugly thing in the corner he referred to as pest control would know. "We were hired to grab him and bring him to Lysan. It might be that we were supposed to foil the assassination attempt."

"Base wouldn't risk the likes of us with something like that," Olwen said. "They'd send someone with proper experience in this sort of thing. Experience with fighting, at the very least. More than just me. Better than me."

"Which might be why no mention was made of it in the correspondence," Mr. Almers said, shaking his head.

"Bit rude, that," Monty grumbled.

If it was a trap, then Reinier would be sorely disappointed at capturing a group as small as ours.

I sighed and scratched at my hair in frustration. "Look, he said his father set him up to be killed, so he's indebted to us. As far as the city guards know, he was taken against his will. If he cooperates, we might be able to just walk out one of the gates with him."

"And you believe him?" Monty asked. He looked down at Vincent with a doubtful sneer.

"What choice do we have?" I argued. I couldn't explain that I could see when he was lying without giving myself away, and I certainly wasn't going to go the route of claiming that I felt everything was legit. I would have to rely on Monty's belief in me being a good judge of character.

"The choice to not do something stupid. You honestly think those dampeners are real?" he said, jabbing his hand in Vincent's direction.

"They're very real," Mr. Almers confirmed with a solemn nod. "I might not be able to do much, but I know a dampener when I feel one."

"Could be on purpose," Monty insisted. "Earn our trust and pity."

"If this is some sort of trap, he'll be playing along," I said. This was the best opportunity to throw Reinier off, and we couldn't afford to lose it. "We promise to take the dampeners off once we're out of range of the city."

"In the meantime, we don't give anything away," Olwen said pointedly.

Monty sighed and relented, crossing his arms. "And if it's not a trap, and it's all real?"

"Then we just got roped into protection duty, and this kid owes us big," Olwen replied with a smile.

We turned back to find Vincent blinking blearily at the wall.

Olwen walked over and lightly kicked at Vincent's foot, gaining his attention. "How close do you think they'll be watching carts leaving the city?"

Our carriage was going to become a lot more cramped. At least it had newer thoroughbraces, but it didn't help much on roads that weren't well maintained. The very same roads we were going to be stuck taking. If we could get to the Bellis Crypt, then maybe someone there would know a spell to help strengthen them and soften the ride.

"If Father's in a particularly angry mood?" It looked like the drugs were wearing off enough for the realization of what was going on to hit Vincent. He dropped his head with a soft groan. "It's useless."

Monty came up and gave Vincent's foot a harder kick. "What do you care? We're stealing that silver spoon right from that mouth of yours."

"I didn't choose my life, you wretched brute," Vincent snapped. The shards of his aura flashing with a dulled red. He made an attempt to stand but immediately stumbled back down.

Monty snorted in amusement. He grinned at me as he jerked his head at Vincent. "He's gonna be a fun one."

Wonderful. He found someone else to needle.

I looked from the door leading to the tunnels to another that led upstairs. "Just in case I was seen, I'll leave separately. Find some way to hide or disguise him."

"How do you disguise the son of the most hated man in Astraea?" Olwen asked, scratching her head and pulling a few strands of hair out of place.

Vincent's aura dimmed as he kept his eyes on the floor.

Disguising him wouldn't be much of an issue. Considering that we needed a picture as confirmation that he was Reinier's son? And even then, we still didn't believe it. Our chances seemed pretty good. "Throw him in a dress or something. A little makeup, and the guards'll hit on him before they ask questions," I said in annoyance. I spoke from experience.

Olwen raised a brow at me before looking down at Vincent. "I know I don't got nothin' that'll fit him."

I shrugged uselessly. It was out of my hands, and I had to trust the rest of them to get out of town on their own. "I'll meet you at the windmill after sunset."

"Be careful, Tristan," Olwen said softly, gripping my shoulder.

I nodded stiffly. I hated the dress. I hated the wig. But how else was I going to escape notice if anything remotely close to my description was spreading?