WAYFARER: CLAIM THE UNCLAIMABLE

Sio remained behind the cabinet for another moment after Baron’s voice reached them, although hiding had already become pointless. Beside him, Angle’s hand was still gripping the edge of the wood, his thumb pressing against the side of his finger hard enough to leave the skin pale. He had been doing that more often since Arch began acting strangely, and Sio had started recognizing it for what it was. Mira had her own version of the same habit whenever she was scared for him—anger on the outside because fear was harder to admit.

Angle released the cabinet and stepped into the room first. Sio followed, brushing dust from his coat as conversations around the long table died away. Farmers, merchants and clerks turned toward them, but nobody looked especially surprised. The innkeeper remained near Baron with Arch’s signed agreement among the papers in his arms, while Baron watched the two young lads emerge with the relaxed expression of someone who had been waiting for them to stop pretending they were hidden.

Angle moved slightly ahead of Sio before stopping. ”I don’t know what exactly you intend to do with everyone under your control, but whatever kind of cult you’re building here, I’m not letting it continue.” His eyes moved briefly toward Arch’s agreement before returning to Baron. ”Release my dad from your contract. Release everyone else too. A ruler shouldn’t need paperwork to make people follow him. If they actually respect you, they should follow you because they choose to.”

Baron studied him for several seconds before a quiet laugh escaped him. ”You really are young.” Angle’s jaw tightened at the dismissal, but Baron merely settled deeper into his chair. ”A nation survives because someone powerful stands above it. Someone has to make decisions when everyone else is frightened, selfish or unable to see beyond tomorrow. Roads remain safe because somebody punishes those who make them unsafe. Food survives winter because somebody prepares while everyone else enjoys summer.”

”That sounds like ruling. It doesn’t explain owning people.” Angle’s voice stayed controlled, although his hands had already curled into fists.

Several residents visibly bristled at the accusation. A farmer near the table frowned at him while an older woman beside the wall whispered something sharp to the man beside her. Sio watched their expressions carefully and found none of the empty obedience he had expected. They looked offended on Baron’s behalf, and that made the entire situation harder to understand.

Baron noticed Sio studying them. ”My father believed respect was enough. He was a decent ruler, perhaps even a beloved one, but people forget kindness remarkably quickly once it becomes inconvenient. They betray you, look down on you and replace you when someone promises them something easier.” His fingers rested calmly against the arm of the chair as he looked back at Angle. ”Kindness, fear, manipulation, force—it doesn’t matter which tool a ruler uses. Power exists to accomplish something. Refusing to use it because you dislike the method is cowardice disguised as morality.”

Angle’s shoulders stiffened. ”So you decided the easiest solution was taking everyone’s choice away.”

”I decided my people deserve stability.” Baron gestured toward the room. ”My roads are safe. Merchants cross this territory without being robbed. Families survive winters that would have killed them before. Businesses grow here instead of abandoning the town.”

A farmer stepped forward before Baron even needed to ask. ”He rebuilt the southern road after the floods.” Another resident immediately mentioned the winter stores, while a woman near the table spoke about medicine Baron had arranged for her granddaughter. Their voices overlapped naturally, each person remembering something different rather than repeating the same praise. Sio glanced toward Angle and found him staring back with the same uncomfortable realization.

These people really did care about Baron.

Baron opened one hand toward them. ”Do they sound oppressed?”

Angle’s attention returned to him. ”People appreciating what you did doesn’t mean you get to decide what they think afterward.”

”That distinction clearly matters more to you than it does to them,” Baron replied, and several residents murmured their agreement.

Sio rubbed the back of his neck. ”That’s actually the weird part.” Baron looked toward him, and Sio gestured vaguely around the room. ”Some of them obviously like you already. Probably most of them. So I don’t really get why you need contracts to force the rest. And if your Claim can make people praise you whenever you want, doesn’t that kind of ruin the praise?”

Angle turned his head slightly. ”Sio, maybe don’t keep going.”

”I’m being serious.” Sio looked back at Baron. ”At some point you’re basically complimenting yourself using other people’s mouths. That has to lose some of the satisfaction.”

The room quieted. Baron’s smile stayed where it was, but his fingers slowly tightened around the arm of his chair until the material beneath them creased. Sio caught the movement immediately and felt a tiny, completely inappropriate amount of satisfaction. There it is. Apparently that hurt more than calling him a dictator.

”You speak very freely inside another man’s home,” Baron said, his voice still controlled.

”I’ve been told that’s one of my less useful qualities.” Sio noticed Angle shift half a step in front of him without taking his eyes off Baron. The movement was so instinctive that Angle probably hadn’t even realized he had done it. He was terrified about Arch, furious with Baron, and somehow still finding time to put himself between danger and Sio’s mouth.

Baron’s fingers relaxed. ”Capture them. They entered my residence illegally, threatened the order of this town and openly declared themselves enemies of our national security. Put them beneath the mansion until tomorrow.”

The residents moved immediately. A clerk placed his documents carefully on the table before approaching with his fists raised, two farmers rolled their sleeves up, and a merchant grabbed the back of a chair. Sio stared at the clerk long enough that the man actually hesitated. ”You too? Who’s finishing the paperwork?”

The clerk swung badly. Sio caught his wrist and turned with the movement, guiding him sideways into the table rather than punching him. A woman grabbed the back of Sio’s coat at almost the same moment, forcing him to twist loose while another resident rushed forward with a small knife held in both hands. Sio opened a portal beside the man, shifted the exit several feet to the left and let his own momentum carry him through. He stumbled into a stack of chairs, more shocked than injured.

Angle had the same problem. Heat gathered beneath his skin, but the people surrounding him were shopkeepers, farmers and workers rather than trained fighters. He caught one man by the shoulders and shoved him away without burning him, then pulled another woman sideways before she could trip over an overturned chair. ”They’re civilians,” he muttered as he blocked an awkward punch with his forearm.

”I noticed. I’m trying very hard to be ethically assaulted here.” Sio caught another wrist and redirected the owner into someone else.

Angle almost looked toward him before another merchant rushed from his side. ”Maybe focus on the assaulted part.”

For a short while, they managed. Sio used portals to move people instead of hurt them, making charging residents emerge several steps away or sending clumsy attacks harmlessly into open space. Angle relied on strength and short bursts of heat that forced people backward without burning them, and together they gradually created enough room to reach the side of the chamber.

Then three people in the crowd stopped pretending to be ordinary civilians.

The first was impossible to miss once he moved. He was a broad-shouldered man who had spent most of the meeting standing near the rear wall like a tavern bouncer, his thick arms folded across his chest. Dark markings crawled from beneath his collar as he stepped forward, and the muscles along his arms hardened beneath a rough black layer that resembled stone fused with bark.

Two women moved with him. One wore a narrow grey coat and had been standing near the documents for most of the meeting. Three silver rings appeared around her wrist without touching her skin, rotating slowly as she raised one hand. The other had short hair and a pale blue Scar running from the side of her jaw all the way to her fingertips. When she flexed those fingers, the air around them warped.

Sio’s stomach sank. ”Angle. Three actual Wayfarers hiding in the crowd.”

”I see them.” Angle shifted closer to Sio, flames beginning to gather properly around his fists now that he finally had targets who could take the hit.

The large Riven came first. He crossed the room much faster than someone his size should have been able to move, driving one reinforced shoulder toward Sio. Sio opened a portal in front of himself, expecting the man to commit, but the bouncer stopped just short.

The woman with the silver rings attacked at the same time. One ring flashed, and something invisible snapped around Sio’s wrist. His arm jerked toward the floor as though a heavy chain had suddenly been attached to it, tilting the portal before he could stabilize it.

Sio’s eyes widened. ”What the hell—”

The big man’s fist came through the half-formed opening. Sio twisted enough to keep it from hitting his face, but the reinforced knuckles clipped his shoulder and spun him sideways.

Across the room, Angle rushed the woman with the rings. His right fist burned bright enough to paint the nearby walls orange, but the blue-scarred woman swept one hand across her body before he reached his target. A compressed blast of air struck Angle from the side and slammed him into the edge of the table.

He caught himself before falling and looked toward her while rubbing his ribs. ”She compresses air.”

”Good to know.” Sio yanked against the invisible weight around his wrist until it finally loosened. ”Mine’s apparently got invisible handcuffs. Very thematic considering where we’re probably going.”

The silver-ringed woman flicked two fingers toward him. Another ring flashed, and the same crushing pressure wrapped around Sio’s ankle. His foot locked against the floor just as the big Riven charged again.

Sio opened a portal directly in front of the incoming fist. The punch vanished into the entrance, and Sio shifted the exit behind the blue-scarred woman. A huge blackened fist burst from empty space toward her shoulder.

She reacted at the last possible moment. Compressed air detonated beneath her feet and threw her sideways, letting the fist miss by inches.

”That would’ve been really cool,” Sio muttered.

”Try surviving first,” Angle said, already moving again.

He rushed the silver-ringed woman, driving a burning fist toward her shoulder. One of her rings flashed, but Angle changed direction before whatever invisible restraint she had prepared could fully catch him. His burning heel swept low instead and forced her backward. The blue-scarred Riven immediately covered her, thrusting both palms forward. Two bursts of compressed air struck Angle across the chest, snapping his coat behind him as he skidded across the stone.

Sio tried opening a portal behind her, but the bouncer stepped into his path. The rough armor had spread across most of the man’s upper body now, thickening over his shoulders and chest until he looked less like a person and more like a moving wall.

”Of course you’re the tank.”

The man swung, and Sio ducked beneath the fist before opening a portal beside his ribs. He started putting his own arm through, aiming to strike from the bouncer’s blind side, but the silver-ringed woman caught his elbow with another invisible restraint before he could finish.

The big man drove his knee into Sio’s stomach.

Pain folded through him. The injuries he already carried from their earlier fight flared at once, and his portal collapsed while he stumbled backward.

Angle saw him and immediately tried forcing his way across the room, but civilians were already closing around him again. He pulled the fire from his hands when an older resident stumbled between him and the blue-scarred woman, and that brief hesitation was all the silver-ringed woman needed. She pointed toward his leg, one ring flashed, and Angle’s knee locked in place.

The blue-scarred Riven drove a concentrated burst of air into his ribs while he couldn’t move. Angle hit the floor hard enough to lose his breath, and the bouncer immediately changed direction toward him.

Sio forced himself upright and opened a portal beneath the big man’s leading foot. His leg dropped knee-deep through the opening, ruining his balance for the first time. Angle reacted even while struggling to breathe. Fire wrapped around his fist as he pushed himself up and struck the bouncer across the jaw.

The black armor cracked.

Sio grinned despite the ache in his stomach. ”There we go.”

The opening disappeared almost immediately when the ordinary residents surged back into the fight. A farmer grabbed Angle from behind while the clerk caught his arm. Angle’s fire flared on instinct, but Sio saw him kill it the moment he realized who was holding him.

The silver-ringed woman had been waiting for exactly that hesitation. Her remaining rings flashed together, and invisible pressure wrapped around Angle’s shoulders and waist, dragging him downward while the blue-scarred woman struck him with another blast of compressed air.

Sio tried reaching him, but the bouncer tore his leg free of the portal and charged. Sio opened an entrance between them and shifted the exit behind the man, intending to step through and escape his path, but the woman with the rings caught his wrist again before he could complete the movement.

His portal distorted.

The bouncer’s shoulder hit Sio squarely in the chest and launched him backward onto the stone.

For several seconds Sio could hear everything without properly seeing it—the scrape of boots, somebody calling for guards, Angle swearing somewhere nearby and the ringing left behind by the impact. When his vision steadied, two residents had his arms forced behind him while the bouncer planted one heavy hand between his shoulder blades.

Angle was several feet away, the invisible restraints still locking his body in place. Blood ran from the corner of his mouth, but his eyes remained fixed on Baron rather than the people holding him.

Baron finally rose from his chair and approached them. ”You’ll both be executed tomorrow. Your bounties will be collected through the Wayfarer Nexus afterward, and the money will be used to improve this town. Even in death, you’ll finally contribute something useful.”

Angle strained against the invisible pressure around his body. ”Leave my dad out of this.” The anger in his voice cracked around the edges, and Sio turned enough to see his face clearly. Angle had been hiding the same fear since Arch began behaving strangely, but he couldn’t hide it anymore.

Baron noticed too. ”Your father will have an important role tomorrow.”

Several guards entered carrying dark metal shackles. One locked them around Sio’s wrists, and the pressure of his Claim disappeared so abruptly that he instinctively reached for a portal. Nothing answered. Across from him, the fire around Angle’s hands vanished at the same moment, and the invisible restraints holding Angle finally released as the guards took hold of him.

Sio pulled once against the chain and grimaced. ”Okay, these are definitely going on the list of things I hate.”

Angle barely seemed to hear him. His attention stayed on Baron while the guards hauled them upright, and his breathing had grown noticeably shallower.

Baron turned toward the innkeeper. ”Take them beneath the mansion. Tomorrow morning, bring their father to me and prepare the final agreement. Once he signs, he’ll prove his loyalty to this nation publicly by executing his own sons.”

Angle went completely still.

Sio felt the guard pulling him toward the staircase, but the wording bothered him enough that he twisted around. ”Technically, he isn’t my father. Just so you know.”

Angle slowly turned toward him, disbelief briefly overpowering the fear on his face. ”My dad is apparently going to execute me tomorrow, and that’s what you decided needed correcting?”

”He said sons,” Sio replied, then saw Angle’s expression worsen and added, ”Yeah, okay. Bad timing.”

Angle shut his eyes for a moment, looking too exhausted to decide whether he wanted to laugh, yell or headbutt him. When he opened them again, he looked past Sio toward the room while the guards dragged them toward the staircase, as though some part of him still expected Arch to appear and prove that none of this was actually happening.

The stairs beneath the mansion were narrow and damp, and the warmth from upstairs disappeared with every step. Water dripped somewhere below while the smell of wet stone grew stronger around them. Sio glanced toward Angle, ready to say something about tomorrow’s execution, but stopped when he noticed Angle’s hands trembling inside the shackles. His mouth closed again, and he turned his attention toward the darkness waiting beneath the mansion.