She could only hope she wouldn’t be there when it happened.
Unfortunately, she was, and it happened in a way she had not expected at all: Eridan was kidnapped right from the monastery’s gardens.
That in itself wasn’t enough to make Master Castien snap.
But when security cameras captured the image of the kidnapper, Irrene winced, trying to shield herself from the icy, biting fury that filled the room.
“Blockade the area around Hangar Bay 4,” Castien ordered the security guards, his cold eyes still fixed on the image of the tall man carrying his unconscious apprentice away.
Chapter Fifteen: Something Lost
Eridan didn’t remember being knocked out.
He just remembered that he had been enjoying a walk outside the monastery, and then… nothing.
The next thing he knew, he was waking up inside this tiny room, bound to a chair and gagged, with two strangers—a man and a woman—arguing over him.
“Is the gag really necessary?” the man said gruffly. “We’re in the middle of nowhere.” He was a tall, broad-shouldered man with piercing blue eyes and brown hair with streaks of gold. His age was hard to determine: he could have been anywhere between twenty-five and forty-five. He would have been a handsome man if the scowl on his face didn’t make his face look so unpleasant.
The woman was a tiny thing, beautiful, blonde, and probably around the same age as the man. “He could have woken up while we transported him,” she said, shrugging. “The kid would have hardly kept silent if we asked him nicely.”
Eridan said, “Unbind me!” but it came out as unintelligible mumbling thanks to the gag.
His kidnappers turned to him and eyed him curiously.
Eridan glared at them.
The woman was the one to step closer and remove the gag.
“What the fuck do you think you are doing?” Eridan spat out.
“What foul language for a monk,” the woman said, clicking her tongue.
Eridan opened his mouth and closed it as he realized that these people were outsiders. This wasn’t some stupid prank by Xhen and his cronies. These people thought he was a monk—something only the outsiders called members of the Order.
And they had a strange accent, Eridan noted with growing bewilderment. He’d never heard an accent like that. Accents were so rare these days, considering how widespread the GlobalNet was. He wondered if they were using translating chips—that could be the reason for the accents—except that didn’t seem right, either. Translating chips gave a recognizable cadence to one’s voice that sounded a little unnatural. These people didn’t have one. They spoke like native Calluvians, except for their strange accents.
“How old are you?” the man said, scowling. “We thought you would be older.”
His accent was faint, nowhere near as obvious as the woman’s. Eridan wasn’t sure what to make of it.
“None of your business,” Eridan said. “What is the meaning of this? Release me at once.”
The woman chuckled. “Adorable. Isn’t he just the cutest, Warrehn?”
Eridan flinched, startled by the familiar name, before realizing how ridiculous he was being. That name wasn’t all that rare. There were probably thousands of people out there called Warrehn. Outsiders didn’t use unique names like the Order did.
The man—Warrehn—pressed his lips together and crossed his arms over his chest. “Shut up, Sirri. It isn’t amusing. What are we supposed to do with him?”
Sirri sighed exaggeratedly. “You’re no fun.” She shifted her gaze to Eridan. “I guess there’s no harm in telling you. You’re the High Adept’s apprentice. You’re here because we want to talk to your Master.”
“Then you should have made an appointment, like all normal people,” Eridan said snidely.
Sirri grinned. “You’re going to be a pain in the ass, aren’t you?” She looked almost pleased. “At least this promises to be entertaining. I would have killed myself from boredom if I had to be stuck in this tiny house with that grumpy bore.” She motioned toward Warrehn.
The “grumpy bore” just glared at her before repeating, “What are we going to do with him? We could be stuck here for ages. We can’t keep him bound to the chair.”
“Why not?” Sirri said. “Don’t tell me you feel sorry for him.”
Warrehn scowled. “He’s just a kid. He can’t be older than sixteen or seventeen. The informant must have lied about his age.”
Sirri shrugged. “A little discomfort won’t kill him. You take the first shift. I’m going to sleep. Wake me up in six hours.”
Warrehn glowered at her. “You’re not in charge here.”
Sirri smiled, all teeth. “Someone has to be.”
A muscle pulsed in Warrehn’s jaw, anger rolling off him in waves.
Eridan tensed and looked at the man sharply.
Cocking his head to the side, he reached out with his senses.
What he found made him stiffen.
These people’s telepathy wasn’t as bound as that of other Calluvians. They both were powerful telepaths, the man more so than the woman, but more importantly, their abilities were refined and tightly controlled. They were well trained.