Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 193: Cloak & Dagger I

Chapter 193: Cloak & Dagger I

"Jonah, do my eyes deceive me or is that rain?"

Atticus frowned, raising his hands a little. The small droplets of water fell into his open palm, cool against the warmth of his skin. He tapped into the use of his sunstone, activating the crystal to keep himself dry. Most of the water droplets would simply evaporate before it even had the chance to touch a hair on Atticus’s body.

"That’s odd," Jonah commented, his eyebrows tightly knit together as he examined the skies. The clouds, adorned in shades of silver and gray, hung low as if they were gently brushing the world beneath with misty fingertips. "It’s not supposed to rain today. That wasn’t in the forecast."

His words only deepened the frown on Atticus’s face. The weather was strange, way too out of the ordinary. While the weatherwardens sometimes would have inaccuracies to their weather forecasts in the summer months, that was rarely the case for the other seasons. Vramid’s weather had always been stable and it was only once in a blue moon would the predictions be wrong.

Something unsettling stirred within Atticus’s heart, causing his chest to clutch a little uncomfortably.

"You’ve assigned members of the royal guard to Daphne’s side for the parade, yes?" Atticus asked, turning back to glance at Jonah.

This caused the man to roll his eyes. "Yes, Your Majesty. For the hundredth time, Her Highness is well-guarded."

Even with Jonah’s confirmation, Atticus still felt uneasy. There was a faint buzz of magic that could be felt through the rainwater. Normal folk wouldn’t be able to tell the difference but for some like Atticus, it was basically like getting slapped right in the face.

Someone — or something — was making it rain when it wasn’t supposed to. The report that Jonah and Daphne had brought up about the kelpie’s appearance in Vramid caused Atticus’s hair to stand. His fists clenched at his sides.

"What’s wrong?" Jonah asked, raising an eyebrow in questioning. He folded his arms across his chest. "I know you are worried about your wife but stop worrying for a second. Daphne is perfectly fine and she can handle herself. It’s just a bit of rain. It’s not the end of the world."

"It’s not just a normal rain," Atticus murmured. He cast one look at Jonah and the latter instantly understood.

"Oh," Jonah said. "Right. Kelpie." He scratched the back of his neck. "Though, to be frank, Atticus, I don’t think Nereus intends to―"

"Nereus?" Atticus cut in, causing Jonah to stop in the middle of his sentence. "Even you are calling it by a name now?"

"You didn’t meet the kelpie for yourself," Jonah replied with a shake of his head. "It is definitely sentient. It managed to cultivate a human form for itself and is able to take the shape of a man. It can even speak coherent sentences and hold a conversation."

Then, Jonah paused, deep in thought.

"Well," he corrected himself, "at least with Daphne. He doesn’t seem to care too much about other people."

"Or so I’ve heard." Atticus scoffed. "That damned crown prince came all the way to Vramid from Raxuvia and yet, he hadn’t even realized the kelpie was here all along. Not to mention that case with Jean Nott..."

"Prince Nathaniel provided valuable information about the gem smuggling," Jonah reminded.

That piece of intel was what had landed them here in the first place― snugly in the middle of the outskirts of Vramid, near the Southern Slums that Daphne had blasted a hole right through a couple of months ago. Atticus hadn’t thought that he would return so soon. Only this time, he was here to apprehend a suspect, not to save his beloved.

Between the information that Jonah had gathered as well as the bits and pieces that Prince Nathaniel had provided, it seemed like Jean Nott had been moving gemstones in and out of Vramid so as to sell them off in the black market.

Vramid was used as a headquarters of some sort, most likely because Jean had land under his legally registered name, Eugene Attonson. He was, after all, a viscount. That made it easier to stay out of the eyes of the local authorities and prevent getting detected. If he hadn’t messed up by getting himself too deeply entwined with Daphne, Atticus might’ve still needed much longer before he could crack the case since its original discovery back during the Yuletide Festival.

"Ten gold pieces on Jean Nott failing to show up today," Jonah suddenly said. He tapped the pocket where he normally kept his money, giving Atticus a cocky grin.

"What makes you so sure?" Atticus asked.

They moved through rows upon rows of dilapidated houses, their noses burning from the familiar scent of the sewage waters. Mixed with the rain, this smell was reminiscent of their childhood.

Jonah scoffed. "You may have earned yourself a formidable reputation on the battlefield but don’t forget who is the one doing all the planning and background work for you."

"Hmm..." Atticus hummed. He then playfully grinned. "Sirona?"

"The only thing she will be planning is your funeral if you keep that up!"

Atticus barked out in laughter. "Make that twenty and you’ve got yourself a deal."

"Done," Jonah immediately agreed.

That would be the easiest bit of pocket money he had conned from Atticus once they were done with this mission. He could already taste the mugs of ale he could get with that amount of cash. To Atticus, it was nothing more than a bit of small change. For common folk, those twenty gold pieces might be able to sustain their livelihood for months!

Their footsteps eventually halted when they arrived where the foretold meet-up spot would be, according to Prince Nathaniel.

Atticus pulled out a small piece of clear quartz, holding it up in the air. All these shady businesses would definitely make use of some sort of magic to cover up their dealings. Clear quartz, with its amplification abilities, would be able to sniff out even the slightest traces of magic. That would help them pinpoint where the offenders might be.

It took no more than a few seconds before the crystal began to hum in Atticus’s hands. The duo moved in the direction where the magic was strongest, careful to keep themselves hidden.

Atticus was the first to notice the source of magic.

Reality seemed to bend and distort right around one of the smaller, inconspicuous houses a short distance away, wavering as though manipulated by an invisible hand. Faint ripples danced above the ground, blurring the edges of objects and casting a dreamlike quality over the landscape.

"Found it," he murmured under his breath, his eyes not leaving the distortion even once, afraid that it would disappear if he did so. Atticus reached into his pocket, pulling out a small piece of selenite that was no bigger than the size of his pinkie finger’s nail.

With an aimed flick, he sent the selenite block soaring through the air. It seemed to hit an invisible wall, a ripple forming where the selenite made contact with the forcefield that was placed around the building. Then, it began to melt away, revealing a hole that allowed Atticus to look into the actual building instead of through a false veil.

He quickly set up his own layer of magic so that they wouldn’t be spotted too easily. Then, they peered in.

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