Chapter 65: Platov

Chapter 65: Platov

"Why does he have these?"

"I wonder why the Baelis even created them."

"You're clueless, Viktor?"

"Indeed. Enlighten me?"

"Well, Terran legends claim a Baelis smith crafted them to make wars so devastating that none would dare wage one."

I chuckled. "Really? They thought that would work?"

"It did."

"How?"

"Among the Baelis."

"I see."

"Shall we proceed?"

"I'm not sure I can."

"That's a concern."

"It is."

We lingered awkwardly.

"Should we turn back?" Thorne inquired.

"No, we stay put."

"Understood."

Time felt elongated, though it was probably just a minute. The presence of the Dragonlords added to my unease. Displaying fear in front of a Vorgan is bad, but doing so in front of a Dragonlord wounded my pride.

"I have a plan," Thorne interjected.

"I'm all ears," I replied. "Any plan's a good one now."

"It'll take a few moments."

"Take all the time you need. It's not like I'm rushing anywhere."

Thorne's expression shifted, hinting at a mental exchange.

"It's settled," he declared. "Our helper is on his way."

"Who do you mean?"

"A friend from my past. It's not important how we met."

I didn't press. Everyone knew Thorne hadn't always been with the Vorgans; he was once a Dragonlord. His reasons for changing sides remained his secret.

"And his name is?"

"Platov, a member of the Falconlords."

"How's he our solution?"

"He's psychic."

"In what way?"

"His psychic prowess surpasses even accomplished wizards who utilize the Orb's power. Wait here." Thorne momentarily left, whispering to the guards outside. He returned, accompanying a lean, keen-faced Imperion dressed in black. His absentminded gaze contrasted with his sharp features and the Falconlords I was familiar with.

"Thorne," he greeted softly.

"Platov, meet Viktor," Thorne introduced.

He acknowledged me with a courteous nod an unusual gesture for someone from his House. "Good to meet you," he remarked.

I turned to him, my patience waning.

Thorne whispered, "Boss, is he daft or just brave?"

Ignoring him, I signaled Platov to continue.

"Drevolan suspects a theft of these weapons, correct? And you want to"

"Do you know Drevolan?" I interrupted.

"Yes, why?"

"Just curious. Continue."

"You aim to capture the thief?"

"Capture, or at least identify them."

"I can place a psychic marker. Anyone entering will be tagged."

"That seems too convenient," I remarked.

"People underestimate psychic abilities."

"What about Liora?"

"Who?"

"Forget it. If something goes missing mysteriously, it's Liora's work."

Thorne interjected, "Then what's the plan?"

"We admit defeat," I said, "which perhaps I should've done from the start."

Platov waited for my next move. "Alright, do what you must."

"It's set," he announced.

Thorne murmured, "I felt something, Boss."

Shooting Thorne a knowing glance, I expressed my unease. He took the brunt of it, as always.

Opal chimed in, "Everything will be fine, Boss. Trust me."

I faced Platov. "How does this work?"

"If any weapon is displaced, I'll sense the one responsible."

"And then?"

"Anything you need. Connect you or track them."

"You can do that?" I asked, incredulous.

He nodded, a tad taken aback. "Yes. Is there a problem?"

It was naive to think we'd be done so quickly.

"Let's leave," I said. "We've done what we came for."

Platov inquired, "Where to?"

I hesitated, shooting Thorne a look that begged him to handle it, and left. Thankfully, Platov didn't follow us back. It felt like a small win in a challenging day.

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