Page 11 of Obsidian Prince

Eliot fell, but rolled back to his feet, the shield covering him so Pete had no way to take advantage.

Pete circled again, looking for a way past the wizard’s defense.

As Eliot rolled to his feet, he slashed at Pete. His sword of water passed through the distortion of the shield without resistance and cut a slash across Pete’s sleeve as he brought his arm up in an instinctive defense. If he’d had a shield, it would have been a good counter. Without a shield, it might have gotten his arm sliced open to the bone if the cut had been an inch or two closer.

Pete growled low, looking at the slice in his shirt, then leaped on the wizard without warning.

The wizard held up his hand with confidence.

Pete ignored it.

He landed on the wizard, hands and feet passing through the visual distortion of the shield without resistance, tackling him onto his back.

The look of shock on William Eliot’s face was comical.

Pete looked just as surprised as William Eliot to land on the wizard instead of the shield.

The wolf-kin held William’s wrist down, so he couldn’t use the water sword while he punched him in the nose hard enough to smash his dark glasses. The shimmer of the shield vanished as Pete’s fist went right through it.

The red wolf bared teeth that were far sharper than possible for a human. He grabbed Eliot’s collar. “Stay. Away. From. Zoe!” He punctuated each word with a hard shake.

Slamming Eliot’s hand against the pavement made the water sword dissolve into a puddle.

Liliana let out her breath in relief, returning her mind to the fine morning where she sat rocking on her porch swing. Her vision of the future reassured her. Pete would be fine when he fought the wizard that evening. There was no need for her to intervene in any way.

She went to take a sip of her tea, discovering the cup was empty. She had appointments coming up, but she still needed more information. Now that the young wizard was no longer a threat to the sergeant or to Pete, she could focus on learning what sort of man he was.

The relationship between him and Sergeant Giovanni had been unpleasant, but William Eliot did not initiate it for any reason of his own. His behavior when he believed her bespelled told Liliana that Eliot didn’t have any real interest in Sergeant Giovanni at all.

Colonel Alexander Bennett instigated the ugly situation by asking the wizard to retrieve information on Pete’s sword or retrieve the sword itself.

What will happen when William Eliot tells Alexander about the fight?

Her fourth vision shifted, a few hours further into the future, later that same evening. The sun was set, the sky filled with stars and swiftly blowing clouds. The wizard stumbled to Colonel Bennett’s home, limping on one ankle. He held one bloody scraped elbow. He let himself in through the back fence gate and the glass patio sliding door, neither of which were locked.

Colonel Bennett sat on his couch reading an actual solid, paper book. Liliana thought she was the only one who still read paper books. As his patio door opened, the prince placed a satin marker between the old yellow pages and stood.

Liliana couldn’t resist tilting her fourth vision to get a look at the book title. Ursula Le Guin’sThe Left Hand of Darkness. An excellent story. For some reason, even relaxing in his home, Liliana expected to see the Colonel reading something like Sun Tsu’sArt of Waror going over mission reports. It took some mental gymnastics to think of Colonel Alexander Bennett not at least thinking about his job.

Eliot stumbled into the prince’s embrace. "He nearly killed me." Tears were thick in the wizard’s voice, though none fell.

The prince put gentle hands on the younger man’s face, studying his injuries. He had a split lip. Blood crusted around his swollen nose where it had stopped bleeding, but a dark stain of drips showed on his synth silk shirt. “I think you’ll live,” he said with an affectionately amused tic on the corner of one lip.

Alexander wrapped his arms around the younger man, stroking his back.

"My magic didn't work on him,” the wizard whined, sounding like he had a bad head cold. “I’ve spent most of my life honing my magic. It just rolled over him like rain on an umbrella. He punched me in the nose right through my shield.”

“Who did this?” Alexander asked. “Not many have that level of magical immunity.”

"That damn dog of yours,” Eliot wrinkled his swollen nose. “Teague." He said the name like it tasted bad.

The hand stroking Eliot's back stopped. The Colonel's jaw tightened. "Celtic wolves are immune to many forms of magic. I told you to get the sword without getting Pete involved. What happened?"

"Don't worry, I didn't hurt your precious red wolf. He broke the spell I had on his sergeant friend, though, somehow. I’ll have to spell his pretty boyfriend instead to get more information.”

"I see." No trace of emotion leaked through the prince's voice or face. "Did you get the sword?"

Eliot shook his head against the prince's broad shoulder. "No, before that damn red wolf messed up my spell, Giovanni said it was gone, stolen." He squeezed a little tighter into the prince's embrace. "Damn it. I won’t fail you. I think there are a few other angles to pursue. I won’t give up, I promise."

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