"Caveman," said Benin, lip curling as the warrior continued to rummage in his trousers.
"If you don't like it, stop looking." Coll grinned. He gave his stones one last scratch, then removed his hand, raising it instead to shield his eyes from the rain as he looked upon the expanse they'd traveled the day before. "It's good to be on the open road. You liking the taste of freedom, Ben?"
Benin snorted. "I'd hardly call it a road. More of a swamp so far. And the only thing I can taste is bathos."
“Bath ass?”
“Bathos. It means… disappointment. Anticlimax.”
"Huh." Coll sounded surprised. "I thought you'd be happy to get away from the Guild. I know I never really realized what a weight it was till we left."
"A weight?"
"Yeah. Like, I feel like I can finally think for myself now. I feel lighter. Freer. Before, it was like I was being pushed down. It was really impressive."
"You mean oppressive."
"That too."
Benin thought he was referring to the kind of social and academic pressure he himself had experienced, and was somewhat taken aback at the idea of them having something in common. "How so?"
"Well, obviously it was strict. We had guard duty every week—all the phys’ classes do—and we'd sometimes be on call even when we weren't on the rota."
"On call?"
"Yeah. If the on-duty guards want backup, they call for those who're, well, on call. Like the reinforcements that came when we robbed the Menagerie."
Benin frowned. "I didn't hear them call. Those two just showed up."
"It's not like a shout. It's more of... a compulsion. Like, you'd just know you were being called. And you couldn't refuse it. No one who's taken the oath can."
"Well, isn’t that nice and sinister." It was also highly implausible, but Benin couldn't be bothered getting into it right now. Arguing with Coll often felt like pushing the proverbial boulder up a hill: repetitive, exhausting, and ultimately pointless.
"It's okay. I haven't felt it since we left the Guild." Coll breathed in deeply. "I feel... free."
"Must be nice," said Benin bitterly.
"You don't feel free?"
"Freedom isn't all it's cracked up to be," Benin told him. "Didn't you hear what I said to the Core back there? Mages are obliged to answer to a Guild-approved tower. Those that don't are labeled 'rogue.' 'Wild.' 'Apostate.' We're more than just outcasts; we're threats.
"It's all very well for you and Tiri. You can both learn your crafts anywhere. If I get caught practicing magic, I'll be turned in. Or lynched. And if the Guildmaster catches wind of me, I'm finished."
"But we're heading away from the Guild. Into the wilderness. Surely that's a good thing? Surely you'll be safer out there?"
"Safer to do what? Babysit a bumbling bunch of tiny people? No, I'll see them through their journey—for Tiri, because I owe her one—and then that's it."
Coll faced him, eyes wide. "What d'you mean? What will you do after?"
Benin didn't answer. For all its issues, he had to admit he missed the Guild’s comforts, and he was thinking longingly of hearth fires, warm study rooms, a soft mattress, and a roof over his head.
A raindrop hissed and spat as it evaporated beside his ear. He shook his head to clear it of such ridiculous rose-tinted thoughts. Warmth and shelter? Those weren't Guild comforts; they were home comforts, and if there was one thing the Guild had never been, it was a home. He'd been unhappy since the day he first set foot there. A gilded prison, that was what it was.
And whose fault was that? Who had made things that way?
Varnell had been in charge for almost five decades. Despite being a mage himself, he was the one who'd pushed the edict declaring magic-users too dangerous to exist outside the strictures of the Adventurer's Guild. He was the one who personally had it out for Benin and the others.
When they were done with this little trip, this so-called exodus, maybe Benin would go back and pay him a visit. No more running away. If Varnell were the source of everything that was wrong with the Guild—everything that was wrong with Benin—then maybe it was time someone removed him from his position.
"Ben?" Coll was looking at him with concern. "Corey's called a council. That's the reason I came to find you. Coming?"
The warrior gave him a tentative smile. His short hair was plastered to his head, his face was glistening with fresh rain, and his testicles were apparently still itching fiercely, yet still he was smiling. When Benin nodded resignedly, Coll turned and led the way back beneath the trees. The emberfox followed.
Still Benin hesitated. He couldn't help but feel as though this forest boundary was the point of no return. If he chose to go back to the Guild right now—turn in himself and Pyra, and apologize—maybe he'd be spared punishment.
Who am I kidding? He'd defied orders, gone AWOL, and stolen from the Guildmaster. No matter how repentant he might be, it was far more likely that he'd be sent to the cells. Or the gallows.
So with one last glance at the open sky and nothing to lose, Benin headed back to the camp, raindrops sizzling around him.
Twenty-Nine
Council
Corey
"Where have they gotten to?" muttered Ket. She flitted away again to check for the humans' approach.
As much as I wanted to get this council over with and get us all back on the road, I was actually glad of Benin's temporary absence. I glanced around to make sure he wasn’t there, then turned my attention back to my two scavengers.
"Put it back," I said sternly.
Swift and Cheer glowered at Ris'kin as she took the suspiciously spherical sack from their hands and turned it upside down. One of the mage's alchemical globes came tumbling out. Shaking her head, my avatar picked up the globe and returned it to Benin’s bag, flicking her tail in annoyance at the troublesome pair. Droplets from her thick fur showered Swift and Cheer. Muttering, they gathered up their empty sack and went off
