Now it was Cael's turn to gasp the loudest.
"You again!" Cael exclaimed, pointing at the newcomer. Since it was useless now, he tore off his veil and threw it under his feet in frustration. "How do you always find these moments to arrive? Did you wait nearby on purpose, Santangelo, to appear when you are least expected?"
Arca Santangelo—who else could that be?—pressed his flamboyant hat to his chest. "It's divine guidance. Divine guidance and divine luck, signore Oliveira. The luck which is all mine today, not yours."
"That's a very dramatic appearance, yes—but why won't SOMEONE explain to us what's going on?" Ramba asked darkly.
Sceerk let out another tirade, most likely just as derogatory as the previous one. Cael glanced at the chief apologetically.
He didn't even dream that Arca would find him so soon! But this time, at least, he had only two priests at his side. Both looked like formidable enough mages, though. Either way…