Lucian watched in horrified dismay as Ben was attacked. His first thought was that they were both about to be robbed, but when the men proceeded to drag Ben down the alley, he realised he was witnessing a kidnapping.
The cart was still blocking the way ahead and there was no time to waste moving it to one side. He leapt to the ground, and, dropping the reins over the cart handle in the hope that the horse would stay in place, dashed off in pursuit.
He darted around the first corner. Ben and his assailants were out of sight but they couldn't have gone far. Not in those few seconds. The first door he came to was locked and judging by the cobwebs at the top, hadn't been opened in a long time. The second door led in to the back of a tavern. He looked around but could see no immediate sign of Ben or his attackers and Lucian pushed his way through the customers to the big man standing behind the bar. He had six beakers lined up on the counter in front of him and was filling them with ale from a heavy jug.
Lucian rapped on the wooden counter to get his attention. "Four men. Did they come in here? Just a few moments ago?"
The barman shook his head while he finished pouring the ale. Then he shrugged. "Might have. I didn't notice. I've been busy."
Lucian bit his lip in frustration and turned away. He made a quick search of the room, peering in to the kitchens and even the privy but there was no sign of Ben.
He was just about to leave when he saw the staircase, tucked away in a corner, near where he had first entered the tavern.
His foot was on the first step when- Crash! The sound of breaking glass above his head was unmistakeable.
Ben!
Lucian flew up the stairs. Two men barrelled out onto the landing and rushed down the stairs, roughly knocking Lucian to one side. A third followed close on their heels, but turned suddenly when he saw Lucian and went in the other direction. Lucian felt torn. Part of him wanted to grab hold of the assailants, or at least one of them, but the rest of him wanted to find Ben. What had they done to him?
He pushed open the door and stepped into the room with some trepidation. Broken glass covered the floor in front of the fireplace and he could see the blank space on the wall where the mirror had been. There was no sign of Ben.
He had to have escaped through the mirror, even though it was a good five feet above the floor. Lucian felt a moment's admiration before he began to worry. Ben may have escaped from his assailants, but where was he now? Lucian could only hope he wasn't trapped inside the world between the mirrors. How would he know which mirror gate to use? Usually, it took several trips between mirror gates to lay down a visible path, and though Ben was strong in the ether, the only place he'd been to was Rider's Keep and last he'd heard, that mirror was still in pieces.
Then it dawned on him, like a slap in the face. Ben would have gone home, back to Earth, and Luke. Lucian felt almost sick with jealous disappointment, his nails digging hard into clenched palms. He tried to shake it off, trying to be reasonable. Ben had been quite clear about his desire to return home, and to Luke, and if Lucian now found himself wishing for something else, it was hardly Ben's fault.
He made a big effort to pull himself together and look around the room, searching for any clues to the assailants' identity. There was a bare narrow bed, bolted to the floor in one corner, and a chair. Nothing else. Then he saw the syringe. It had rolled under the chair and come to rest against one of the legs. Lucian bent and picked it up, eyeing it with deep suspicion.
Syringes were expensive and hard to come by, they certainly weren't the weapon of choice for the ordinary street rogue. The syringe was filled with a clear liquid and a cautious sniff confirmed his suspicions. Hemal. That meant a mage had been involved, at least somewhere along the process, and this time it wasn't Uldon, who was leagues away in Rider's Keep. Lucian could think of only one other person who might have taken such desperate steps to remove Ben from the equation. He stared at the syringe again. It was very full, but there was no way of telling whether it had been intended merely to subdue its victim, or something worse, just by looking at it. He would need access to a workshop to test the contents. He wrapped the syringe carefully in his handkerchief and tucked it into his coat pocket.
Lucian slipped quietly down the stairs and out into the alley. Fortunately, the horse and coach were still where he had left them, though his small travelling bag had vanished and the pumpkins had all but disappeared. He pulled the handcart to one side and tipped it up against the wall out of the way, then climbed up onto the coach seat. Moments later, he was on his way to Tower Vierrac, anger burning low in his belly.