Page 129 of Scales ’N’ Spells: Volume One

“Do you think we will have trouble convincing him he’s a mage like we did Cameron?” Warin asked after a few minutes.

Cameron had known little of mages when he first met Alric and refused to believe that he might be one. Convincing him that dragons existed had been much easier, due to a certain blue dragon flying overhead when Cameron arrived at their castle for a tour. Not the best introduction, but it had been effective all the same.

When it came to Nestori, Baldewin was hoping for a lighter touch. Something about the wariness in the man’s grey eyes, the lines of strain in his handsome face, left Baldewin wanting to shield him from any new shocks and discomfort. He needed to be protected.

“How can we not smell him?” Warin complained.

It was something that worried Baldewin, as well. Mages smelled heavily of magic, the scent of charged air right before a lightning strike. It was the smell of heaven.

Mages had also become the scent of home. Burkhard Castle had always housed them within its walls, and now every carpet, tapestry, banner, wooden beam, and stone in the place was permeated with the scent of magic.

“Maybe the breeze is too strong today. It is blowing his scent out of the park and into the city,” Baldewin offered, not that he particularly believed it.

“I don’t—” Whatever Warin had been about to say was cut off sharply, and Baldewin realized why a heartbeat later.

Magic.

That sharp, beautiful scent of magic on the air.

Their mage. He was close.

“Which way? Which way?” Baldewin demanded, not caring that his usually deep voice might have just jumped a couple octaves higher in his excitement. He spun around where he’d stopped, trying to get a better gauge on which direction the scent had drifted from.

Warin was spinning, too. They were both catching the attention of other people in the park who were obviously wondering what the devil was wrong with them, since they looked around the immediate area as well. Baldewin did his best to ignore them, not caring if they were attracting attention.

“There!” Warin announced, pointing toward a path leading away from the main thoroughfare that cut down the center of the park. “It’s stronger in that direction.”

Warin started to take off at a jog, but Baldewin grabbed his arm, slowing his pace to a brisk walk. “We don’t want to startle him.”

His companion nodded and released a deep breath. “No, you’re right. We’re close. We will find him.”

They hurried down the park path while trying not to look like they were hurrying, scanning the immediate area for any sign of the man in the picture Cassie had provided. Trees crowded the path, stretching their limbs overhead and blocking out more of the sunlight, creating a slightly more private atmosphere.

About halfway down the path, they spotted a single man sitting at a small table with a pair of folding wooden chairs. He was hunched over, all his attention focused on several sheets of paper in front of him. Leaning on one elbow, he rested his head on his hand, fingers thrust through his hair. His lips were pulled into a deep frown, and lines crisscrossed his brow. An acoustic guitar leaned against the table beside him.

Baldewin found his own steps slowing even more as he soaked in every bit of Nestori’s appearance. His clothes were worn, and the hem of his jeans were a little frayed. They hung on his hips a bit, as if he’d either lost weight or maybe got stuck with a pair one size too big. Either way, it looked as if he could do with a few good meals. There was a gauntness to his face that bothered Baldewin. He needed a sandwich. A big one. Maybe a slice of cake to go with it.

“How do you want to handle this?” Warin inquired.

Before Baldewin could answer, Nestori’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing on them for a moment before going wide. Baldewin wasn’t quite sure how to read that expression. Was he afraid of them? His pale cheeks flushed a second later, and something new sparkled in his eyes that Baldewin couldn’t quite name either.

“No!” Nestori said loudly, pointing at them with the pen clutched tightly in his right fist.

They both stopped sharply, hands raised as if the mage were holding a gun on them.

Clearing his throat, Baldewin forced his confusion back and tried to offer his most friendly, non-threatening smile. “Hello, Mr. Taavi. We don’t mean you any harm. We⁠—”

“No!”

Baldewin paused and frowned, reflecting on what he’d said, making sure he’d spoken in Finnish rather than his native German. Then he reexamined his Finnish. He hadn’t misspoken. His Finnish might be a little rusty, but he’d not said anything to threaten or insult the man.

“We were just hoping to speak to you for a moment,” Warin added.

The pen jerked over to point at Warin, and Nestori barked the same word. With his free hand, he gathered together the papers he was working on. Standing closer to him now, Baldewin was pretty sure he was filling out job applications. Once the papers and his guitar were tightly clutched in one hand, he pushed to his feet, the pen still pointed at them like a weapon.

“I’m sorry, but I think you have us confused with someone else. We don’t mean you any harm. We just wish to speak with you,” Baldewin tried again.

A harsh, bitter laugh jumped from Nestori’s throat, and he stopped backing away. He shoved the pen into his front pocket. “Oh, I know who you both are. Or rather what you are.” His upper lip curled into a sneer as he spat, “dragons.”