As the Marr made camp, Syd sat staring into the fire. Before long, Renwick and Fig joined him, lowering themselves onto the sand. Fig was the first to speak.
“Mind if we sit here, m’lord?” she asked, her sarcasm sharp enough to draw blood.
“Oh, shush,” Renwick said. “The real question is what is this Order, and why did they send the Marr to look for him? We can get back to the ‘m’lord’ nonsense later. And for what it’s worth, I get why you kept it quiet a lord alone is just an invitation to get robbed.”
“The Order of the Rubicon is an ancient brotherhood of Knights and Magi,” Syd said. “They are keepers of arcane knowledge and history, and they serve as advisers to the powers that be.”
Renwick tilted his head. “How did you end up with them? Doesn’t sound like a job for an heir apparent.”
Syd figured honesty was the easiest path forward.
“When I was Marked, my father was furious. But as a prominent noble and with me as his only heir he couldn’t disown me. He never believed in the Order; thought it was a glorified myth. Since he couldn’t banish me outright, he sent me to them instead.”
He stared into the fire. “What he didn’t expect was that I’d excel… and earn the rank of Magi.”
Fig watched the flames, refusing to look at him. “So what is that? Some kind of warlock?”
Renwick blinked. “What’s a warlock?”
“No,” Syd said quickly. “I didn’t sell my soul to a demon. Warlocks are powerful, dangerously. They gain in moments what takes a lifetime in my trade to master. And I wouldn’t want to face one head-on.”
“Your trade?” Renwick asked, curiosity rekindled.
“The simplest word would be wizard.”
Fig finally met Syd’s gaze, her expression hard the same look he’d seen moments before violence erupted.
“Then why is the Order looking for you?”
“The Order keeps track of its members,” Syd said evenly. “And I haven’t checked in for a while.”
He let the silence settle, deciding that was enough truth for one night.