Azriel and Freya sped downstairs at maddening speed, and the thundering booted feet of guards followed after them.
Zavian's hand rested against the plaque-framed sword, the one to kill Aloysius, still marveling at its lightness that the power it held felt unreal. But it was a reminder of his priority at that time. Everything else could wait after Aloysius, and he was needed by thousands of people to protect them from him.
Including Neera. She needed his protection, and he would make sure he would win, and he would right things after in the new world to follow.
"Zavian," Neera called to him.
"Go downstairs," he told her. "I will be back."
And when he hurried down the stairs, his legs didn't carry him as fast enough away from her.
….
Aloysius sat tall on his horse, and the beast, along with the two others at its side, stood patiently, waiting.
