“There are victims here, Your Majesty.” Neriver glanced over his shoulder. “Prepare yourself.”
“Can we save them?” I asked.
Neriver grimaced. “They're already gone.” He turned and went back into the room.
Raven set his hand on my shoulder.
“I'll be fine.” I removed it and jerked my chin forward, motioning for him to go ahead.
The knights went first, a few making soft sounds that warned me more than Neriver's words. Still, I gaped when I entered the long, narrow room.
Neriver had said they were already gone. I had expected a pile of bodies waiting for disposal. That was not what I found.
Corpses hung suspended from chains. There was a lack of wings that told me none were Okon or Lelurra, and a few had the size of the Ricarri, but other than that, it was impossible to tell what race they were. They were wrapped in silk strips, completely covered, but bound so tightly that their shapes were evident.
Sir Foxren leaned close to one and sniffed. “Some kind of preservative, I think.”
“Why preserve corpses?” Raven looked down the line of hanging bodies. “They resemble cocoons.”
I shuddered at the reminder of Bara's moths. Then I peered closer. With their legs together and arms down at their sides, they did indeed resemble cocoons. Was that on purpose?
There were at least twenty of the wrapped corpses hanging along one wall. Opposite them were long tables holding tools, steel bowls, knives, and rolls of white silk. I walkedalong past the tables, noting jars full of unknown substances, pincushions prickly with needles, and then a familiar notebook.
“Your Majesty!” I scooped up the book and handed it to him.
Raven flipped the book open and growled, “Bara's. Damn me for not destroying this sooner.” He held it up.
“Wait!” I grabbed his wrist. “Is it only Bara's writing inside?”
Frowning, Raven handed me the book. “I wouldn't know.”
I opened it and skimmed through. “This is Bara's handwriting.” I tapped a page. “But this isn't.” I handed the book back to the King, open. “These must be Nahel's notes. We might need them to undo his experiments.”
The King grimaced from the book to the bodies. “I'm not sure we can undo anything, Mate.”
“Not with these poor people, but maybe his warriors.”
“It may not be possible, Eliel.”
“Shouldn't we at least try?”
“Very well.” Raven slipped the book into his jacket. He looked up, over my head, and nodded.
I turned to see Sir Vanoak slip through the doorway at the end of the room. The rest of us followed more slowly, careful to walk silently.
We entered a corridor. Up ahead, Vanoak exited through another doorway, but he'd left a line of doors unopened. Neriverheld up his lantern to shine on the closest door. It was steel just like the others, but this one had a square opening in the top, about a foot square. As the light shone through it, a whimper came from the other side of the door.
I looked at Raven.
The King cursed, went to the door, and angled his lantern so he could peer inside. Grimacing, he stepped away.
“Are there captives?” I asked.
He nodded. “We can't free them now. First, we need to find Nahel and apprehend him. Then we can free the captives.”
I didn't like leaving them, but I understood. “All right.”
We left the cells behind and entered the next room.
