Page 106 of Wanted: Rogues and Bards

So fucking wrong.

He couldn’t wait another second. Fuck it.

Fenric roughly pried one of Aria’s hands off his arm and gave her a shove toward the beach. “Get out of here. Now! I’m going back for him.”

“But—”

He didn’t pause long enough to listen to her arguments. He tapped into the magic spell he used for his swapping ability. Normally, he just did this with small items. It made sneaking into a place so much easier if there wasn’t an opportunity to sneak inside as a cat or bird.

This was the first time he’d ever attempted it with a living person. Same principle, right? No big deal. All he needed was to have touched the item, and he’d touched Lirion plenty of times.

In a heartbeat, he had the feel of Lirion in his mind, the texture of his smooth, warm skin in his hands. Swallowing against the sudden dryness in his throat, Fenric gave the magic a final push, and the familiar pull started in the pit of his stomach. His heart lurched, and the world flashed dark for a second. He blinked and found himself standing in the center of the main stage of the entertainment hall.

For several seconds, everyone just stood there frozen. Dozens of guests and servers were at tables with spilled drinks and scattered drugs. The entire room was already in chaos, with people fighting their way to the main exit thanks to the attack launched by Malfas, Hapi, and Belstrom. But there were still several people staring at the stage, faces bright red and eyes wide in shock. Mouths hung open, but no sound came out.

Scattered among the tables were about eight guards with their weapons drawn, approaching the stage, while a lone zombie guard stood in front, his drawn sword already splashed with blood.

Fuck. Of course. Fenric’s timing was impeccable. It appeared Lirion had been about to get grabbed by the guards. If there had been some magic holding him trapped, it was gone now as the guards circled Fenric. After a moment of confusion, the guards made him their new target. That was fine. With any luck, Aria was dragging Lirion down to the dock and the rowboat right this second.

“Wait! Wait! Wait!” Fenric shouted at the top of his lungs, waving both of his hands in front of him. “Wanna see a magic trick?”

As the room seemed to hold its breath, Fenric swore he could feel the vibrations of Malfas’s manic joy as he was set loose on Utopia, which meant Fenric had a matter of seconds to get the fuck out again.

“Now you see me…” Fenric called.

He accessed his shifting ability once again, but he chose his rarely selected and most difficult form—gryphon.

In the blink of an eye, the world was sharper and power flowed through his new body. He dug lion talons into the wooden planks of the stage and threw out his giant wings, stretching them until they touched either side of the stage. He tossed his head back and a high-pitched screech erupted from his beak.

Chaos erupted. A fireball slammed into the wall, blasting through in a shower of sparks, stone, and dust. The world trembled and people screamed.

Customers and servants scrambled for the exits, trampling each other in their haste. The guards seemed to hesitate, faces pale and covered in sweat. This couldn’t have been what they were expecting when they took this job.

Fenric launched himself off the stage, tackling the closest guard to the floor. With a swipe of his massive claws, the man’s throat was torn out. He tucked his wings close to his body and pounced on one man after another.

Unfortunately, after their initial shock, the guards regrouped and attacked, surrounding him. Fenric batted tables and chairs at the guards, trying to create a new opening for escape, but they kept him corralled by the stage.

Smoke trickled in from the various open doorways and the temperature skyrocketed. Malfas was working his brand of mad magic, setting the place on fire. Unfortunately, Fenric hadn’t made the quick escape he’d hoped for. If he didn’t escape soon, he was in danger of the whole place collapsing on his head.

With another shriek, he lunged and took another guard to the ground. A blade slashed along his side and another cut his left shoulder, but the way to the side door was now open. Gritting his teeth against the pain spreading through his ribs, Fenric raced to the exit, claws digging into wood and carpet with every step.

As he got into the hall, he slammed the door shut with a kick, hoping it was enough to get the damn thing lodged in the frame and slow down his attackers. Around him, wood creaked ominously and black smoke filled the corridor. This place was seconds from coming down. At least he was sure they’d gotten the stolen men and women out of the place. It was on the heads of the servants and customers to get themselves out in time.

He followed the hallway as it twisted and turned around the building before finally leading him out a door through the kitchen that was now empty. The moment his paws touched open ground in the destroyed gardens, he launched himself into the black night glittering with bright stars, spreading his wings wide. People screamed, but each flap of his wings carried him higher and higher, away from the noise and chaos.

When he was far enough away, he banked to the left so he could see the remains of Utopia. Dancing orange flames consumed the glorious three-story building while black smoke billowed into the night sky.

If they were lucky, Count Pierres was trapped in there somewhere. It would have been nice to take that slime out while they were rescuing the kidnapped people, but if not, maybe they’d be lucky enough to rip his head off another time.

Lirion was torn. He was relieved to have his sister back and wanted to focus on helping the other men and women who’d been rescued. They all likely needed healing after their ordeal.

Yet, there was also Fenric. That sneaky bastard had swapped their spots without so much as a by-your-leave when the guards were about to swarm Lirion, and then he’d flopped onto the deck of the Dark Lady after shifting midair from a fucking gryphon into a man. Specifically, an exhausted man who had enormous gashes on his side and left shoulder.

As Belstrom had helped Fenric to his feet, the rogue had winked and flashed Lirion a crooked grin. He must have seen the turmoil scrawled across Lirion’s face because Fen just murmured, “Take care of your sister. I’ll be around.” He’d then been ushered below deck, Belstrom going on about stitches.

Fenric was okay. He’d escaped and was in good hands. Belstrom had said he only needed stitches. Fen was right—Lirion needed to focus on Aria and the others.

Rain had the ship already underway with every sail unfurled, so they were making great time while they blazed southwest. The skelebabies clattered around at a mad pace, tying ropes and adjusting the sails. Lanterns swung about the ship as it raced into the darkness. Even if Count Pierres thought to chase after them, it was useless. They had too much of a head start now, and Rain was a wily pirate. He had to know countless tricks and hiding spots.