Baldewin grunted, not surprised in the least. Cassie and Lisette had been working on getting an exact location for Nestori since the sun had peeked above the horizon. They had to be exhausted, even with the help of dragon power to fuel their spells.
“Lisette also offered to come to Finland if we don’t find him within a day or two,” Warin continued.
That thought alone halted Baldewin’s feet, and he jerked around to glare at Warin as if the man beside him had suggested she make the trip, which he could not imagine him doing. “Alric could not have possibly agreed to that.”
A low snort left Warin’s throat, and he smirked. “I don’t believe Lisette has run that suggestion by Alric just yet. And no, I don’t believe for a second he’d allow it without an entire fleet of dragons to protect her.”
“And Dieter.”
Warin laughed. “That grumpy old dragon would never let her travel so far from the castle without him.”
With good reason. Lisette was both the mate to Dieter, a royal advisor to the king, as well as their head mage. She was most experienced in all things magical, and their clan couldn’t risk losing her under any circumstances. She was one of their brilliant, shining lights that brought greatness to the Burkhard Clan. One of its most precious treasures.
If dragons were good at anything, it was protecting those things and people they treasured.
“Then it is critical we find this Nestori Taavi before Lisette decides to lock horns with our king and demand a trip to Finland,” Baldewin murmured, continuing through the park.
“Do you think we will have trouble convincing him he’s a mage like we did Cameron?” Warin asked after a few minutes.
Cameron had known little of mages when he first met Alric and refused to believe that he might be one. Convincing him that dragons existed had been much easier, due to a certain blue dragon flying overhead when Cameron arrived at their castle for a tour. Not the best introduction, but it had been effective all the same.
When it came to Nestori, Baldewin was hoping for a lighter touch. Something about the wariness in the man’s grey eyes, the lines of strain in his handsome face, left Baldewin wanting to shield him from any new shocks and discomfort. He needed to be protected.
“How can we not smell him?” Warin complained.
It was something that worried Baldewin, as well. Mages smelled heavily of magic, the scent of charged air right before a lightning strike. It was the smell of heaven.
Mages had also become the scent of home. Burkhard Castle had always housed them within its walls, and now every carpet, tapestry, banner, wooden beam, and stone in the place was permeated with the scent of magic.
“Maybe the breeze is too strong today. It is blowing his scent out of the park and into the city,” Baldewin offered, not that he particularly believed it.
“I don’t—” Whatever Warin had been about to say was cut off sharply, and Baldewin realized why a heartbeat later.
Magic.
That sharp, beautiful scent of magic on the air.
Their mage. He was close.
“Which way? Which way?” Baldewin demanded, not caring that his usually deep voice might have just jumped a couple octaves higher in his excitement. He spun around where he’d stopped, trying to get a better gauge on which direction the scent had drifted from.
Warin was spinning, too. They were both catching the attention of other people in the park who were obviously wondering what the devil was wrong with them, since they looked around the immediate area as well. Baldewin did his best to ignore them, not caring if they were attracting attention.
“There!” Warin announced, pointing toward a path leading away from the main thoroughfare that cut down the center of the park. “It’s stronger in that direction.”
Warin started to take off at a jog, but Baldewin grabbed his arm, slowing his pace to a brisk walk. “We don’t want to startle him.”
His companion nodded and released a deep breath. “No, you’re right. We’re close. We will find him.”
They hurried down the park path while trying not to look like they were hurrying, scanning the immediate area for any sign of the man in the picture Cassie had provided. Trees crowded the path, stretching their limbs overhead and blocking out more of the sunlight, creating a slightly more private atmosphere.
About halfway down the path, they spotted a single man sitting at a small table with a pair of folding wooden chairs. He was hunched over, all his attention focused on several sheets of paper in front of him. Leaning on one elbow, he rested his head on his hand, fingers thrust through his hair. His lips were pulled into a deep frown, and lines crisscrossed his brow. An acoustic guitar leaned against the table beside him.
Baldewin found his own steps slowing even more as he soaked in every bit of Nestori’s appearance. His clothes were worn, and the hem of his jeans were a little frayed. They hung on his hips a bit, as if he’d either lost weight or maybe got stuck with a pair one size too big. Either way, it looked as if he could do with a few good meals. There was a gauntness to his face that bothered Baldewin. He needed a sandwich. A big one. Maybe a slice of cake to go with it.