Chapter 45: The Hunt

“What did you say?” James asked.

“Lady Iona has been kidnapped. Lord Mallow sent me to bring you to the castle,” the guard repeated, still catching his breath from the run across the field.

“Let’s go.” James turned to Fel. “Are you coming?”

Fel’s great head swung toward the distant rooftops, yellow eyes scanning the skyline”I will wait for you outside the city. If you decide to rescue her, I will help. But I do not want to enter the city when there is such upset. My presence may add to the turmoil.”

“I had not considered that. I will meet with you afterward to update you.”

“James.” The rumble of Fel’s voice carried the weight of someone who had watched humans make avoidable mistakes across generations. “Do not let them panic you. Remember Kael’s advice.”

“Yes, I can see that happening. A grieving father who is lord of the city.” He held Fel’s gaze for a moment—those pale, ancient eyes steady as stone—then nodded once.

He turned to the guard. “I will go immediately to the castle. Follow as you can.”

He broke into a run at full speed, the kind of pace his months of physical training had made sustainable. The guard fell in behind him and then—based on the abrupt silence of footsteps—apparently stopped entirely and stood watching as James pulled away and disappeared down the road.

The city gates came up fast. The guards on duty saw him approach at a dead sprint and, whether from recognition or simple instinct, opened a lane through the queue of morning traffic without waiting to be asked. James pushed through the crowded streets beyond, weaving between carts and market-goers who scattered from his path, and arrived at the castle gates flushed and damp with sweat. Captain Kenneth was waiting as though he’d been standing there specifically to receive him.

“You came, please follow me,” Kenneth said, already moving.

He led James through the castle at a pace just short of a run, through corridors that felt quieter than usual—that particular hush that settles over a place where something has gone badly wrong and the inhabitants haven’t yet decided how to react. Kenneth stopped at the throne room doors and pushed them open.

Mallow was seated at the long table with his wife, Blythe, their heads close together, voices too low to carry. Blythe held a handkerchief pressed to the corner of one eye, her composure intact but barely. Mallow looked up when James entered and rose immediately, crossing the room to meet him.

“I am glad you came so quickly. Let us sit, and I will tell you what happened.” As they moved toward the table, Mallow glanced at James and called out for water—the sweat from the run was obvious, and it was the gesture of a man who noticed details even in the middle of a crisis.

Kenneth didn’t wait to be prompted. “When the maid went to Iona’s room this morning, she was not there, and there were signs of a break-in and a struggle. The windows were smashed open, and the bedcovers were thrown on the floor. None of her clothes or jewelry was missing, so she was taken in her nightgown. My men searched every room in the castle and found no trace. We looked at the ground outside Iona’s window, but found nothing.”

James took the cup of water from the servant and considered the information while he drank. “Her window is on the third level. A ladder that tall would have been noticed by someone. Did you look in the neighborhood for witnesses?”

“Yes, that was done after the castle search. No one saw anything,” Kenneth replied.

Mallow reached into his robe and produced a folded piece of paper, holding it out across the table. “When I reached the throne room this morning, on my chair was this note.”

James unfolded it. The handwriting was firm and deliberate—someone who wanted to be clearly understood.

‘I have your daughter. She will be returned unharmed in six months.’ ‘You must remain neutral in the upcoming war. This means no supplies for the king’s army.’ ‘Send anyone after me—she dies.’

He read it twice, then set it on the table with the same care he’d use handling a drawn weapon. “Interesting. Is Castletown that strategic?”

Mallow leaned back, the politician’s calculation working behind the father’s eyes whether he wanted it to or not. “We are on the major land corridor. But if we were that important, we would have doubled in size. They must be targeting multiple cities.”

James considered the implication settled. James looked at the note again, then at Mallow. “What do you want from me?”

“Rescue my daughter.” Blythe’s voice was steady, but only because she’d stripped it of everything except the essential plea. “Bring her home safely and unharmed.”

“You will be rewarded handsomely,” Mallow said. “Tell me what you need.”

James set his cup down. “Send a man to get mage Mathin. While we are waiting, we can talk.”

Kenneth was already on his feet and out the door before Mallow had finished nodding.

“What are your needs?” Mallow asked.

James laced his fingers on the table, organizing his thoughts the way Kael had taught him to organize a tactical situation—remove the emotion first, then assess what’s actually in front of you. “This rescue may take days or months. While I am gone, I cannot run my tavern. I have my staff to think about. There is also the risk I could search for months and never find Iona.”

Mallow absorbed this without flinching. “You are the only one in the city who is capable. If you succeed, I will knight you. And just for trying, I will waive all taxes for two years on The Fenrir.”

James sat in silence and weighed his options, trying to decide how hard to bargin.

Kenneth returned, slightly short of breath. “Mathin has been sent for. He should be here within the hour.”

Mallow looked at James. “Why do you need the other mage?”

“Mathin has detective skills that I lack. He may discover a clue to the kidnapper’s identity, which will help in finding them. Keeping someone for six months requires multiple people as guards,” James pointed out. He glanced at Blythe and lowered his voice. “Unless they decide to kill her. With such a long timeframe, they could achieve their ends and not deliver.”

“That would destroy Blythe. She could not have more children, and since I love her, I could not discard her just for an heir,” Mallow whispered back.

“Shall I take you to her room?” Kenneth asked.

“Let us wait for Mathin. I want as little disruption as possible,” James replied.

Mathin arrived unsure of why he was called so abruptly. The moment he stepped into the throne room and read the faces there, the annoyance resolved itself. “Lord Mallow, why was I summoned so abruptly?”

“Lady Iona has been kidnapped. I asked for you to be called to help identify the culprit,” James quickly said.

“That is terrible. Of course I will help.”

Mallow led them up through the castle, the corridors growing quieter as they climbed until they reached the third level and the door to Iona’s room. What lay beyond it told its story plainly enough. One window had been forced entirely from its frame and lay in pieces across the floor, the frame itself splintered along the top edge where something had struck it with violent force. The second window still hung, barely, held by a single bottom screw, the wood around it cracked in a radiating pattern. Whatever had come through had come fast and without any interest in subtlety.

The bedding had been shoved into the far corner in a tangled mass, not scattered the way a struggle would scatter it but piled—as though displaced all at once by a sudden pressure, a gust concentrated and deliberate. The side table lay on its face, a ceramic cup broken beside it. In the middle of the floor, catching the morning light from the ruined windows, lay a silky blue robe.

James stood in the doorway and took it all in without touching anything.

“Can you use your spells to provide any information on the attacker? It is simple to see the effects, but not the cause,” he asked.

“Clear everyone else out, and I will try,” Mathin replied.

Mallow and Kenneth withdrew immediately without argument, pulling the door closed. Mathin moved to the center of the room, rolled his sleeves back, and looked at James. “I am going to cast a spell that should reveal the actions of the last twenty-four hours. It can only be cast once. We can stop it when necessary to view things and, fortunately, speed it up. Otherwise, we would need to watch the entire spell.”