The dungeons. My poor, frail Agnes. And it’s all my fault.Hot tears welled in her eyes. “Take me to her, please,” she begged, her strained voice barely more than a whisper.
“Oh, my dear. Would if I could. But I am afraid you won’t be going anywhere for a while. You need to rest.” He rested a hand on her arm and looked down at her. Warning bells pealed in her mind.
“It’s time to go back to sleep, miss.” His grip tightened around her forearm, and with his other hand, he drew another vial of clouded liquid. She tried to turn her head, but she couldn’t feel… anything. Her eyes flared in panic, and she opened her mouth to scream, but the healer grabbed her face in his sweaty, meaty hand and dumped the vial down her throat. She swallowed involuntarily.
In an instant, a calmness overtook her.
He smiled at her. “That’s a good girl. Get some rest, miss. We’ll wake you when it’s time.”
SOMETHING SHADY
Slaide stomped down the long corridor, his black cloak flowing behind him. He’d left the war room in a hurry, barely allowing the doors to close behind him before breaking into a brisk walk. He moved as quickly as he could across the worn stone floor, riding the line of drawing too much attention and getting to her fast enough. His gut told him he needed to beat the mages to the infirmary.
He wound down several hallways, each more secluded and emptier than the last. When Slaide reached the set of ancient double doors to the infirmary, he barged in without knocking. He opened his mouth to make demands, when he was cut off by the sight before him. Across the room, the healer Slaide recognized as Nemsen stood over the only occupied bed. And he was not alone. Gammen and Oriss huddled beside him, the former having lowered his hood.
Those beady-eyed pricks.
The doors slammed behind him, alerting the three men to his presence. Nemsen turned abruptly, clearly not expecting more company.
“Ah! Master Elias, good to see you,” he said, closing the space between them. Slaide looked past him to where the Archmagesstood, as though they were trying to absorb as much information as they could about this new pet before their little party was interrupted.
“Is that her?” Slaide asked, ignoring pleasantries.
“Who?”
“The girl,” he ground out. “The girl accused of using magic. Don’t play dumb. I’ve had enough of that today.”
Nemsen reeled back as though he’d been struck by a snake. “Right. Well, yes. You see she’s rather incapacitated at the moment. Really shouldn’t be disturbed.”
Slaide looked down at the short, bald man, rolled his eyes, and then shouldered past him, making for where the Archmages stooped. There was an oddly large orange cat sitting on her legs with its ears pinned flat.
He slid up behind them, casting a long, ominous shadow over the men and their subject. Oriss was the first to peer over his shoulder. He did a double take before subtly alerting Gammen to their visitor. Gammen turned slowly to face Slaide, his skeletal face devoid of emotion.At least act surprised I caught you defying the King.
“Ah, just the man I was hoping to see. You really should reconsider, Master Elias,” he said. “One wrong move and you could unleash who knows what on this kingdom. Gods of Caelis, all Aetherium, even. Her kind are an abomination the likes of which only we have the means to deal with.”
“Get. Out.” The muscle in his jaw flicked.
“I can’t do that, Slaide. Let us do the right thing—for everyone.” Gammen was nothing if not persistent.
Slaide stepped forward, his eyes darkening. He was tall enough to look down at the Archmage. As their chests came to touch, grazing slightly, Gammen shifted his weight. He was uncomfortable.Good.“I saidget out.”
Archmage Gammen inclined his head and stared into his eyes, as though trying to get a read on the man no one understood.Good luck with that.Then he submitted, bowing his head and replacing his hood as he stepped around Slaide. He and Oriss gathered their things and left the room without another word.
Slaide watched them leave, his eyes landing on Nemsen, who cowered slightly under his gaze. “Master Elias, I?—”
“From now on, until she is well enough to leave this room, no one enters except you or me. That includes those two and their ilk. Do we have an understanding, Nemsen?”
“Yes, sir,” he said. “Sir, if I may…”
Slaide shot him a warning glare but tempered his anger. “Sure, Nemsen. What is it? Speak freely.”
“Well, it’s just… she’s in a rather delicate state at the moment. And while I wouldn’t dare tell you what to do, I do hope you’ll heed me when I say she shouldn’t be moved or otherwise disturbed for a while.” The man wrung his hands anxiously and avoided meeting Slaide’s eyes.
Slaide sighed. “I don’t know what they told you, and I don’t know what they want with her. But I can assure you, for whatever my word is worth to you, I have no interest in those things. You’ve heard the stories. You know what I do. So, I am going to need you to just trust me on this.”
Surprisingly, Nemsen nodded. “Master Elias, I don’t want to overstep with what I am about to say. But… while we’re on the subject of trusting one another, I wonder if you might have a moment to discuss some things going on around here… specifically in the lower dungeons? I haven’t been down there personally, but a few of my colleagues have and the things I’ve heard are concerning. Disturbing, actually.”
Slaide blanched. He did not, in fact, know anything about whatever was going on in the lower dungeons. He could behonest, or he could put on the face everyone expected of him. So, he chose the former. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. But, I can address it with Magnus and?—”
