Lélia’s defense backfired. As tensions mounted, Guy slammed the scout golem to the ground, closing in on Pete.
“Dammit, Pete…! Have you lost your mind? You’ve definitely got the wrong idea. We’re just talking. They’re not poaching me. I asked them to—”
The moment Guy was in range, Pete’s arm went around the back of his head, yanking him in. Without a moment’s hesitation, his lips were on Guy’s. Something small slipped into Guy’s mouth—a capsule of potion Pete had kept tucked in his cheek. It broke, and the fast-acting paralytic inside took control. When Guy’s knees buckled, Pete caught him, lowering his friend to the floor with a grim smile.
“You shut up, Guy. This is on me—I should have forced myself on you long before this happened. I’m still far too nice. Even though I know the more stakes you pound, the better.”
Rebuking himself, Pete drew his athame.
Some curse energy had transferred to him on that kiss, but Pete had prepped, and Guy had fought to stop it—the influence wasn’t too dire. Pete was good to throw down. Seeing how ready he was, Lélia and Gui gave up and drew their own weapons.
“You’re past letting us talk, huh? We’re doing this right here? I don’t recommend it. We’ll be forced to defend ourselves—and it’s three against one,” said Lélia.
“…Huh? Wait, don’t drag me into— Kah!”
Trying her best to stay plastered to the wall, Mackley let out a squawk, and her legs crumpled beneath her. The Barthés gasped.
“Now it’s two-on-one. How dumb can you be? You seriously thought I’d roll up against these odds without a plan?”
Pete’s lips twisted in a sneer. Sensing something closing in all around, Lélia cast a spell, illuminating her surroundings and shattering the visual illusion. That revealed the six-legged insectoid golems, about as big as midsize dog. They were everywhere: on the floor, on the ceiling, on the walls—over a dozen golems. A terrifying sight.
“Stealth golems!”
“…We’re surrounded. When did he—?”
Cursing their lack of precautions, the Barthés put their backs together, athames raised. The surprise attack had them down a fighter, and now he had familiars—if they all attacked at once, Pete would have a huge advantage. Well aware of that, he raised his blade.
“I don’t want to draw a crowd, so I’ll make it quick. I’m gonna carve this lesson into you. Don’t mess with the Sword Roses—!”
“Okay, Pete, time-out.”
Just before he let loose, a breezy voice put him in a shoulderlock. Pete flinched and turned to look at the intruder—a boy a head taller than him, Tullio Rossi.
“…?! Rossi…!”
“You are popping off! I ’ave to admit, they gave you good cause. We all ’ate ’aving those we adore snatched away, no? You more than the rest of us!”
Rossi was both sympathizing with and pinning Pete down. Not only was Pete’s dominant athame hand in Rossi’s clutches, but the Ytallian also wasn’t letting him move a finger on his other hand, preventing him using any of the magic tools he had up his sleeve. Rossi knew full well Pete kept a whole bag of tricks on him, so he was shutting those options down. And running his mouth off the whole time.
“But going full terror on them right off the bat? I ’eard only the last exchange, but I feel they meant no ’arm. Objectively, you seriously think the Valois would even consider scouting Guy? I am sure this was just a passionate discussion of life’s many tapestries that ’appened to strike a nerve. An unfortunate disconnect, eh?”
Despite Rossi’s attempts at persuasion, the murderous fury radiating off Pete showed no signs of subsiding. Worst-case scenario, Rossi might have to knock the reversi out, but that might leave Rossi himself with a target on his back. As he weighed his options, a big man strode in.
“You’re drunk on the power you’ve gained. Acting like a mage is all well and good, but the old you had his virtues. Wouldn’t recommend taking it to extremes, Reston.”
“…You too, Albright?”
Joseph Albright loomed over Pete, who ground his teeth.
“I rather like the new you,” Rossi whispered in Pete’s ear. “You ’ave seen what you want, and you are going for it—nothing wrong with that. Yet, I will say—do not forget the larger picture. Valois is slowly opening ’erself up to Nanao, yes? If you torture ’er servants, that will all be for naught. I am betting you forgot about that, no?”
“!”
Eyes widening, Pete stopped struggling. Sensing this approach was getting through, Rossi pressed it. He released his grapple, neither wand nor blade in hand, bending a knee to put himself at the reversi’s eye level.
“Much better. You ’ave a kind ’eart. It makes me want to put the moves on you. Would you care to ’ave tea? You would rather collect yourself before you go ’ome to Oliver, I am sure.”
“…Shut up,” Pete spat.
Rossi’s breezy demeanor was slowly draining the tension from the room; paired with that reminder, it was effectively diminishing Pete’s will to fight. He knew from experience how effectively this approach stifled impulsive conflicts. Though aware he was being manipulated, Pete was not dumb enough to buck against it for that reason alone. He took several deep breaths, letting his raging emotions vent, then glared back at the Barthé twins, who braced themselves.
“I’ll let you off this time. Given my friend’s work with Valois, I can’t tell you to keep your distance from Guy, either. But just try and recommend he leave our group again—and I won’t hesitate. You will suffer so much, you’ll regret being born.”
With that vehement threat, he spun around and stalked away, carrying Guy over one shoulder. Only when his footsteps vanished did Rossi let out a sigh of relief.
“…’Ow ’orrifying. The way ’e ’as grown—knowing ’im in ’is first year, I did not see this coming.”
“Had he not changed, he’d be dead. But if he’s sprouting horns, perhaps it’s time we snapped one off,” Albright muttered, staring after Pete.
Rossi turned his attention elsewhere. The Barthés had clearly not expected to be bailed out like this.
“A narrow escape, yes? I just ’appened to spot Pete sailing down the ’all, looking ready to commit murder. Turned to follow and thought it best to interfere. But ’onestly, you ’ave only yourselves to blame, no? What you tried ’ere was positively suicidal. Or did Oliver’s and Nanao’s genteel dispositions give you the wrong idea?” Rossi asked. “The Sword Roses are our year’s greatest threat, and every member is a ticking time bomb of a mage. Meddle with them foolishly, and you are liable to wind up dead. Even if you mean well.”
This was as serious as Rossi had ever looked, and Lélia and Gui each put their blades away, taking it to heart.
“…Message received. But we’re in the position we’re in—and we owe him a debt.”
“Yeah, can’t exactly get cold feet that easily.”
Rossi blinked, as if he had not expected them to stand their ground. “My, look at the both of you. Not long ago, you might as well ’ave been storefront mannequins. Is this Guy’s influence? That man cannot be underestimated.”
With that, he spun around and exited the room, Albright in tow. The Barthés exchanged a look.
“…That was too close,” Gui said. “What now?”
“Is it even worth considering? If his friends are in that frame of mind, all the more reason Guy needs to hear outside perspectives. But I’m not about to ruffle Reston’s feathers any further. We’ll need a better approach. Lay the groundwork before we hit the man himself? I doubt the other Sword Roses are that intense about it…”
Lélia trailed off in thought, chin in hand. But then a feeble voice came from the back wall, reminding them they were not alone.
“…Hey…if it’s over…help me up…”
Mackley had been taken out quick but was still with them—and they rushed to her aide.
“Sorry, Mackley. Totally forgot about you.”
“You really got the short end of the stick. But you know the old saying—loose lips sink ships.”
“You’re the ones who dragged me in here!” she yelled as loudly as her paralyzed vocal cords let her. It took the Barthés far longer to soothe her ruffled feathers than it did to undo the paralysis.