His Cure For Magic (Book 2) (13 page)

"Amman, keep him safe," Eryn said, rushing to the far passage, her sword at the ready.
 

The tunnel wound down and around, looping over itself more than once. Eryn moved as quickly as she could, at times leaning against the damp earth and wooden supports to catch her breath and clear some of the fuzziness from her vision. Her shoulder hurt where it was cut, and her thigh stung with inexplicable pain. The cries and screams had grown louder, and she winced every time a new pitch joined the chorus.

She reached her first body before she realized it, nearly tripping over the small woman laying dead on the ground, blood pooled around her. She felt her stomach churn at the sight, but she fought it back. More would suffer the same fate if she didn't keep moving. There was no time for sickness.

She passed a few more bodies, and the cries gained in volume. Finally, the tunnel opened up into a larger cavern. There were wooden cages lining both sides of it, stacked four or five high, with planks and platforms giving access to the higher levels. The cages were empty, the bulk of the prisoners herded into the center of the cavern, ringed by soldiers who were grabbing them, stabbing them and pushing the wounded and dying back into the center. The scene was enough to peak her anger and horror, removing all of the fatigue she felt and bringing the magic instantly to the surface of her being.
 

"Murderers," she screamed, loudly enough so that it rose above the cries and echoed in the expanse of the space. Every eye in the room turned towards her. "My name is Eryn Albion. Surrender your arms, or meet the same fate as
his
soldiers in Elling."

She could feel the magic coursing through her. She could feel the tingle everywhere. She was afraid to let it go. She knew she didn't have the control. She would kill everyone in the room, and possibly herself as well. She held it back and stared at them, daring them to resume their killing. If she could have seen herself, she would have known that blue and gold energy was arcing from her skin, and her eyes were glowing white.

Half the soldiers dropped their weapons. The other half thought to charge.
 

They didn't make it far.

Seeing her had the opposite effect on the prisoners as it had on the soldiers. Those that remained unharmed swarmed over them, assaulting them with fists and feet and teeth. Those that had surrendered were mauled just the same as those who fought back. It was over in minutes.

Red tears mixed with salt. Eryn closed her eyes and forced the Curse to subside. Even though she had held back, she felt the fatigue growing, and the pain in her thigh increased. She clutched at it and gritted her teeth while a few of the prisoners approached her.

"Is it true?" The first to reach her was a young man, gaunt and tired but strong in his posture. He was stained with the blood of both prisoners and guards. "The Heroes of Elling are real?"

She started to fall, unable to stand any longer, but he leaned forward and caught her.
 

"Silas," she said. "He's in the mines. He's looking for Saretta. Please. We need to save everyone."

The young man turned back to the others. "Toren, Pein, gather the strongest, take the guard's weapons and head for the mines. The Hero needs our help."

"I'm coming," Eryn said. She tried to move forward, but her head began spinning.
 

"Don't worry, Eryn Albion," the man said. "If he needs saving, we'll save him." He pulled her back to a wall and made her sit against it. "My name is Loshe."

"Do you know Saretta? Do you know where she is?"

"I know her. She was working in the mine."

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Wilem

Wilem was asleep when the pounding on his door began. He'd been there since the prior night after Eryn had said goodnight. He'd paced back and forth in embarrassed frustration until the ale he had drank and the futility of it all had driven him to a deep, restless sleep.

"Wilem. Come on, my boy."

Wilem opened his eyes and lifted his head with a start. Whatever was happening, it was serious. He fought to ignore the throbbing in his skull while he slid off the bed and stumbled to the door.
 

"You hold your ale like a ten year-old girl," Kelkin said when he opened it.
 

Wilem was surprised to have found himself growing fond of the old Mediator during their time together. His stories were entertaining, he was relaxed and jovial, and he had done his best to begin imparting the wisdom of his years on the young man. He'd treated him like a son, or maybe a grandson, and even added a 'my' to his 'boy'.

"What's going on?" Wilem asked.

Kelkin held up the disc that matched the one held by General Clau. "We've been summoned. We need to make our way to the barracks."

Wilem took a deep breath. The relays were simple artifacts, only able to transmit a message that had been predefined by the holders. Clau wouldn't have used it unless it was important.

"Give me one minute." Wilem closed the door, took advantage of the indoor plumbing, and rejoined the Mediator.
 

"Ten year-old girl," Kelkin said again.
 

He led Wilem out of Waverly's, away from the Heart to the rear of the palace. The main barracks abutted the palace walls.

"State your name and business," the guard said when they approached.

"Move aside," Kelkin said. In an instant he had shifted from the relaxed patron back to the intense Mediator. "We are on the business of General Clau." He held up the relay.

The soldier examined it for a moment, and then bowed. "As you say, my Lord." He stepped aside and motioned for the barrack gates to be opened.

Varrow was a large city, and as a result had a large complex for the soldiers contained within. Wilem and Kelkin passed through the open iron gate and into the training yard, where hundreds of soldiers stood in formation before their Commander. To the right, a smaller group clashed in a padded recreation of a battle, and to the left archers took aim on solid targets.

"This way," Kelkin said, leading Wilem to the left. Past the archers was a large stone building that bore a vague resemblance to the palace, but on a much smaller scale.

"You've been here before?" Wilem asked.

"No, but I know the officer's building when I see it." His voice was cold and condescending. It was as though he were a completely different person.

A scribe sat behind a high desk in the corner. He looked up when they entered.

"General Clau," Kelkin said.
 

"He isn't here. Follow me." The scribe hopped down from a tall stool and led them back out of the building. They followed its length past the organized soldiers to a second door. "This is the infirmary. The General is with a patient."

Kelkin nodded and the scribe went back to his post. "Come on, boy."
 

They were greeted with a set of stairs leading below the ground, turning slightly as they did. When they were halfway, he began to hear the screams.

"That's why it's underground." Kelkin said, noticing his pale face. "So the others don't have to think about their brothers' suffering."

 
The stairs led out into a long room lined with straw mattresses and lit by torches. The last five mattresses in the rear were occupied by unclothed soldiers in various states of injury. Men and women in robes moved to and from them, bringing wet clothes for their heads or fresh poultices for their wounds. The screaming soldier was in the last bed, a white cloth soaked with blood resting against his abdomen.
 

Wilem felt his stomach churn. "Where is the General?" he asked. Clau wasn't in the room.

"You are here for General Clau?" one of the nurses asked. Her dark robes were darker in spots, stained with blood. "Through that door."

Wilem had been so engrossed by the wounded that he hadn't noticed the door on their right. It was open enough for a sliver of light to escape from it, but not enough for him to see anything.
 

Kelkin went over to it and pushed it open, with Wilem right behind. Clau and Talia were there, standing on the left side of a brute of a man. He had a blanket over his legs, and his head and chest were wrapped in bandages. His arms rested atop the blanket, and Wilem could make out a tattoo of what looked like a heart on his wrist.
 

There was someone else in the room, standing on the other side. She was an older woman with long, wavy silver hair and a stern but attractive face. She wore a rich green velvet dress with a deep, plunged neckline. Resting between her breasts was a large green gem, held in place by an ircidium chain around her neck.

"My Lord," Kelkin said with a bow. "Overlord Prezi." He bowed to the woman.

Wilem felt his heart pound. He had never been face to face with an Overlord before. He became very aware of himself as his repeated Kelkin's motions.

"This is the boy?" Prezi asked.

Wilem's heart pounded harder.

Clau looked back at them. "Yes, my Lady."

She beckoned him to enter the room. "Come here, Wilem."

Wilem walked over to her on rubbery legs, fighting to calm his nerves. He wasn't a boy any longer. He was a Mediator. He forced himself to straighten up.

Overlord Prezi cupped his face in her hand and looked into his eyes. Wilem could feel the power of her Curse building, and then the warmth of it flowing through her fingers on his chin.
 

"Are you sure?" she asked, holding his face but looking at Clau.

What is she talking about?

"What do you sense?" Kelkin asked.

She glanced at the older Mediator. After a moment she let Wilem go and smiled. "Just a test, Wilem." She looked him in the eye, and then at Kelkin. "You've done well, so far."

Wilem looked back at Kelkin, confused. The Mediator was stone-faced.

A groan sounded from the man on the bed. His eyes lifted open. Overlord Prezi lost all interest in Wilem when they did.
 

"Lance," she said. "This is General Clau. Tell him what you told me. It's very important."

"I... I..." His eyes welled with tears. "Sazi?"

"Sazi is well," the Overlord said. "Her husband is in the dungeon, under arrest for aiding a fugitive."

Lance smiled at the news. "I... I killed my brother."

"You served the Empire. Neither Sazi or I will forget it." Overlord Prezi looked at Clau. "Lance and his brother Ames are part of the Broken Hearts gang. It is run by a man named Davin Capaldi, a rogue who settled here some time ago and made the Heart his own. The peasants there call him the King of Hearts. I've let him operate because he helps keep the peace there, and has been no real trouble before now."

"Has he been brought in?" Clau asked.

"No." Prezi's face darkened. "I sent the Constable to arrest him, but found his mansion abandoned. Somehow he knew we were coming. I had the mansion burned to the ground, in case he might be hiding inside."

"The Liar," Lance said. "Sazi...You promised."

"I will put in a very good word for you, Lance," Prezi said. "You will be recognized and esteemed for your service."

The big man smiled, but there was still a hint of sadness to it. "My brother."

"Where is he?" Clau asked. "Where is the Liar?"

"My brother. Sazi." The man was delirious. His eyes began to flutter closed.

General Clau rose to his feet and leaned in, wrapping his hands around Lance's neck. "Where did they go?" he shouted. "Tell me, and then you can live or die as you and Amman will have it."

Wilem swallowed the breath that was caught in his throat. Just because it was necessary didn't mean he enjoyed it.

Lance's eyes opened wider as he began to struggle to breathe. His hands came up to try to peel Clau's away. "Please..."

Clau released his grip. "Where is he?" he asked again, instantly calmed.

"Washfall."

Clau's eyes whipped over to the Overlord. "The mines?"

"There is nothing else at Washfall that he could want, but I can't guess why he would go there."

Clau's jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed. "Why would you go there, Talon?" he whispered. "How long ago did this one turn up?"

"He stumbled up to the guards some three hours ago. I've had all of the guards questioned since. No one saw him leave the city."

Clau looked at the ground. "The three of you, go back to the officer's building and have Pendergast lead you to your things. Change your clothes and meet me in the courtyard in twenty minutes."

"I'm coming with you," Prezi said.
 

"No," Clau replied. "Three Mediators are enough to handle the girl."

"General..."

"No," Clau said. "We can't risk it. Can you imagine what would happen to this city if Talon killed another Overlord? Have your stable master prepare our horses."

Prezi nodded and pushed her way past them.

"Why are you still standing here? Go."

Behind him, Lance's eyes closed. They wouldn't open again.

###

"What did the Overlord do to me?" Wilem asked Talia. He held out his arms, happy to be returned to the black cloth of the Mediators.

"She was measuring your Curse."

"She didn't sound pleased."
 

Yet she had said he was well, so far. He remembered the way she had looked at Kelkin when she said it. Immediately, he remembered the night before, when Eryn had asked after the blood that the Mediator carried. Why had the box been open?
 

"She has heard good things about you. Perhaps she discovered they aren't true?"

"They are true." Or at least they
were
true.
 

"How have you been enjoying being a peasant?" Talia asked. They had been sent to separate rooms to change, and now they stood together in the hallway waiting for Kelkin.

Wilem's mind settled back on Eryn. She was beautiful. She was sweet. She was funny and exciting. He had kissed her, and it was the best experience of his life. Even if she hadn't returned his affection, he would always remember it.