25. Benjin

twenty-five

Benjin

From within the enchanted cabinet, Benjin sank back, stunned. What in the name of the Goddess was Haldric thinking? How could he be such a coward? To leave Benjin behind without a second thought hurt bad enough. But to flee his responsibilities rather than facing the future? It was sheer cowardice.

He struggled with renewed vigor against his bonds as he heard the Grand Magus setting about preparations for the ritual outside the cabinet door. Benjin had no idea how long that would take—how long he had to stop Haldric before he made a colossal mistake. But he had to try.

He'd hoped the magical bonds might weaken when he was locked away, but whatever spell the Grand Magus had used remained as strong as ever. Try as he might, Benjin couldn't wriggle free, nor cast any magic of his own. What he wouldn't give to be a bard right now, capable of shaping his runeflame via song.

When he heard Dexil's muffled voice announce, "It's time," helplessness threatened to drag him under.

"Don't do this, Haldric!" he screamed, slamming his bound legs against the door of the cabinet. "Stop!"

But there was no answer. His pleas went unheard. Whatever magic infused this cabinet with extradimensional space also kept it soundproof from the outside, the door safely latched shut.

The only way Benjin was getting out of here was via magic. And the only way he'd manage more than worthless flashes of runeflame was if he recovered the full use of his hands.

Ritual chanting began outside, along with the rush of expanding magic. Benjin sank against one of the cabinet's interior walls, resting his chin on his chest.

Was this how his and Haldric's tale concluded? Haldric would erase all memories of his life as a prince—including his time with Benjin. And the Grand Magus would take advantage of the chaos to enact his coup. Even with the king still alive, Haldric's willingness must've been too tempting for Dexil to pass up. Would he even bother waiting for the king to pass before starting his rebellion?

Benjin supposed he'd find out soon enough.

He'd all but succumbed to his hopelessness when he felt a subtle shift in his bindings, the magic sustaining them abruptly lessening. At first, Benjin suspected a trick or feared he'd missed the ritual's conclusion. But no. he could still hear the ritual proceeding outside, sense the magic gathering in the air like static electricity even here within this extradimensional space.

The magic—that's it!

Performing the ritual must demand too much of Dexil's attention to spare for anything else…including sustaining Benjin's bonds. Whatever prepared enchantment he'd used to cast the spell still required his active concentration, and he hadn't had time to shore up the magic before Haldric's arrival.

Renewing his struggle, Benjin rejoiced when the weakened chains finally gave way, loosening about his wrists. He yanked one hand free, then the other, before tearing at the chains still binding his legs. Soon enough, he was free.

But that still left him trapped within this cabinet.

As he racked his brain for the spells he knew, seeking one that might work, he thought of King Roland and the other governors. How exactly did Dexil intend to spin Haldric's disappearance? Would he pretend the prince ran away? Come up with another elaborate excuse?

Benjin shoved the idle thought aide. It didn't matter—not when Benjin had no intention of letting things progress that far. He'd knock some sense into the stubborn prince if it was the last thing he did.

Just as soon as I find a way out of this Void-cursed cabinet!

Directly interacting with the magic like he had that enemy mage's fireball was out of the question. That had been a happy accident more than anything. Benjin didn't have the first clue how to set about dispelling the Grand Magus' spell.

Conjuration? Pass. What simple object might be summon to help him here? Even if he managed a suitable lockpick, it's not as if he knew how to use it.

Alteration? That had some promise. He might change the door to something more malleable like water or cloth, or something easily breakable like glass. Yet, when he attempted a basic cantrip on the door, it held firm, the magic used in its creation reinforcing it. A strong enough spell would likely override it, but Benjin didn't possess that kind of magic. Not yet.

Protection? Restoration? Divination? Compulsion? All worthless unless he intended to bolster the door further or convince it to open by asking nicely.

That only left one option. Shuffling as far back from the door as he could, Benjin raised his hands with a grimace, drawing upon his reserve of runeflame until the extradimensional space blazed with azure light. Then, he let it go.

The blast of force hurled him against the far wall and left his back aching and his head ringing, not too different from what it had felt like when he'd been thrown from that wagon. He'd poured a hefty chunk of his runeflame into the blast, not wanting to take any chances.

Triumph surged through him when the haze of expended runeflame cleared to reveal his Evocation had accomplished its goal, blowing the cabinet door clean off its hinges. Scrambling forward, Benjin tumbled free from the extradimensional space, landing with a slight lurch of his stomach on the cold stone of Dexil's lab.

He staggered to his feet, his eyes wide. All around him, runeflame twisted in a glowing azure whirlwind streaked with bands of silver. The gathering magic raised the hairs on his body and left his skin faintly tingling.

The Grand Magus stood off to one side. Bands of runeflame coalesced in one hand while the other held Percival's dawnflame sphere aloft, crackling with golden light. At the center of the whirlwind stood Haldric. Both of them stared at Benjin.

"Benjin?" Haldric mouthed. Though the rushing whirlwind drowned out the sound, Benjin read his name on his lover's lips as their eyes met.

"Get away!" the Grand Magus screamed, barely audible over the rushing magic. "Your very presence could disrupt the ritual!"

Benjin spared him a disparaging glance. "Then stop the ritual!" he shouted back.

"It's too late for that! The magic is too far advanced!"

Benjin gritted his teeth. If the ritual couldn't be stopped, then perhaps he could at least save Haldric from its grip.

Ignoring the Grand Magus' continued shouts, Benjin shoved through the whirlwind toward Haldric at the spell's center. Each step became an ever-greater challenge, the force of the swirling magic pressing him back.

"What are you doing here?" Haldric demanded as Benjin drew closer. "Dexil said you were away on a mission."

Benjin managed a strained smirk. "If you really think I'd leave you without saying goodbye, then you're even dumber than you look, Your Highness."

Haldric stared at him for a long moment before breaking out into a wide grin. "It's good to see you. I was looking everywhere for you." His smile dimmed, his gaze flicking to the Grand Magus. "But Dexil's right. You need to get out of here."

Benjin considered confessing everything, telling Haldric the full extent of Dexil's duplicity. But there wasn't time, not with the runeflame roiling around them. At any moment, the spell might complete and wipe Haldric's memories. They could discuss what to do with the Grand Magus later. First, Benjin had to save Haldric from himself.

"You can't go through with this!" Benjin said. "Think about the future of the kingdom."

"I am , Benjin." Tears stood out in Haldric's eyes. "That is precisely why I must do this. I cannot allow myself to become king. Ilthabard's people deserve better."

"There is no one better!" Benjin forced himself another step closer.

Their cloaks and hair billowed about them, the waves of runeflame drowning out all else until the world shrank to just the two of them.

"You think that any of the governors would do more for the people?" Benjin scoffed as he took another step. "That they could even hold Ilthabard together?" Step. "The Grand Magus is using you! He wants the people to revolt."

"Well, maybe they should!" Haldric shouted back. "It's not as if they can do a worse job than us nobles have."

Benjin clenched his jaw, hardly able to believe what he was about to say. Still, he reluctantly forced the words out. "I can't deny that there are many rotten among the nobility. But in my time here at the palace, I've learned that there are good people, too, people in need of guidance. Your guidance. You have the potential to make a real difference, Hal. To bridge the divide and stop the kingdom from tearing itself apart."

"I…" Haldric's face was an agony of indecision, his eyes wide and terrified. "I wish I could believe that."

Benjin took another step. They now stood almost close enough to touch, a mere handful of paces separating them. Runeflame cascaded around them in a silver and blue torrent.

"What about me?" Benjin asked quietly. "What about us?"

Haldric paled, his green eyes widening. For a moment, he looked ready to fling himself forward into Benjin's arms. Then, he set his jaw, his expression hardening.

"There is no us!" The words tore through Benjin like jagged blades. "Even if I stayed here, I'd need to focus on my duties. On my betrothal."

Benjin staggered a step back, wetness pricking his eyes. He reached up, angrily scrubbing the tears away.

"There, you see?" The Grand Magus' voice carried to them from a distance, though his form was lost to the storm. "As I told you before, this is for the best. Step aside, Benjin, and let the spell run its course."

Staring at Haldric's downturned gaze and slumped shoulders, Benjin considered it. It would be so easy to retreat—to let the arrogant prince rewrite his memories and renege on his responsibilities. Instead of defying the Grand Magus, Benjin could help him, aiding in his grand revolution. Like Dexil himself, he could devote himself to making Ilthabard a better place, free of the kinds of people that had cast him and his mom out, or those who had taken Dexil's parents from him.

He could let Haldric do as he wanted, the pieces falling as they willed.

He almost did it, was already preparing to turn away and retreat, when Haldric met his gaze one last time. The look on the prince's face froze Benjin in place.

What he saw there wasn't the face of conviction—of a man certain in his decisions. Nor was it the careful mask Haldric so often presented to the world. Instead, it was the shattered face of a scared little boy. Terror shone from his drawn expression. Tears brimmed in his wide, lost eyes. And in that instant, Benjin realized an irrefutable truth.

Haldric doesn't want this any more than I do.

Hurling himself forward, Benjin grabbed Haldric's arm, yanking him away from the heart of the whirlwind.

"What in the Goddess' name are you doing?" Haldric demanded. He set his feet, refusing to budge. "Let go of me!"

"I'm saving you from yourself!" Benjin retorted.

He continued to pull at Haldric, trying to force him out of the spell's path, but it was a losing battle, the prince too strong.

"This is my decision! This is what I want!"

"Too bad!" Benjin snarled.

Abandoning his futile efforts, Benjin raised a hand crackling with runeflame and yanked with a rush of force. The Evocation caught Haldric by surprise, jerking him forward so that he stumbled into Benjin's arms.

Benjin grinned, holding the prince up. "I got you, and I'm never letting go. Never."

Haldric gazed up at him, something akin to wonder in his eyes. Then, the whirlwind of magic around them shuddered. The room began to rumble.

"No!" the Grand Magus screamed. "Get out of there before you—"

But it was too late.

In a spiral of collapsing magic, the ritual exploded, hurling the Grand Magus across the room. Eddies of runeflame coalesced around Benjin and Haldric, buffeting them like a gathering cocoon. Benjin gripped Haldric tightly and Haldric returned the gesture, clinging to Benjin in a desperate embrace even as everything else faded away beneath the blinding sheen of blue light.