The Dragon Hunter and the Mage (46 page)

“So what?” Aric asked. “Raiders don’t know that. Besides, there are other valuables here. The Glowstone stockpiles alone are worth a fortune. Not to mention the conventional weapons, the horses, the cows. Even basic supplies like wood, tools, and candles are worth stealing.”

Leth grimaced but otherwise dropped the argument. The two of them found their way into the kitchen and Aric began opening random cabinets.

“I have never so much as walked into a kitchen my whole life,” Leth said, twitching his nose as if the place reeked. “If my father saw me now he would fall into a coma again. I’m a direct descent of the Ultrarchs of Akham, for Goddess’ sake.”

Aric emerged from a cabinet holding two very large pans. “I didn’t know your father was comatose,” he said.

Leth shrugged. “Happened long ago. I was six. I can barely remember him healthy.”

“I thought comatose people died within days,” Aric said.

“It’s not truly a coma. He opens his eyes sometimes, even looks at you, but I don’t think he’s there anymore.” Leth shook his head. “The Grand Duke of Nalwar… the most powerful man in the East, unable to do anything except drool.”

“I didn’t know,” Aric told him. “I’m sorry.”

Leth took a deep breath, then exhaled loudly. “So am I,” he said. He picked up a pan and looked at it as if it was bottomless. “They say the Mages might have been able to help him if they had still been around, but I’m not sure. I think some things just cannot be fixed.” He paused. “Sometimes I wonder if the world is not one of them…” Then, he snapped out of it with a shake of his head and looked at Aric. “See? This is why I don’t like to talk about these things. Now close your mouth and get cooking. What is it exactly that we do?” He held the pan as if it was some kind of undecipherable artifact.

“Well, huh…” Aric decided to drop the subject as well. “Yeah, I used to have all my meals in the Citadel’s kitchen, so I watched the cooks every day. It seemed like hard work, but nothing overly complex. Hand me one of those knives will you? I’m going to chop some of these cabbages.”

Aric started out slow and awkward. Apparently, peeling, chopping, and dicing vegetables wasn’t as simple as it looked.

“You look like you are trying to dissect a small animal,” Leth told him. “It’s a cabbage. Just hack away and be done with it.”

“You want to do it?” Aric asked, presenting Leth with the knife.

“No, thank you,” Leth replied, taking a step back. “You’re not doing it wrong enough to turn me into a cook.”

Shaking his head, Aric resumed his slicing duty. “How wrong would that be?”

“Well, if you start trying to chop
me
instead of the cabbage, I might take over for you.”

Aric raised his head from the counter and looked at Leth. “Don’t tempt me.”

At that moment, a wailing horn echoed in the distance, startling the two of them.

“What the heck?” Leth said.

“Intruders.” Aric dropped the knife. “Where is it coming from? East?”

“Oh come on,” Leth protested. “You’re not buying this, are you? Someone’s obviously messing around.”

Aric shot him a stare. “Let’s go,” he said.

Exhaling loudly, Leth followed Aric out into the main hall. The horn echoed eerily throughout the empty hallways, making it hard to tell where exactly it came from. Aric tried following the corridors leading to the eastern face of the mountain, but the horn’s unrelenting howls just grew fainter, so they circled back around.

“Southeast,” Aric said, climbing a stairwell two steps at a time. “Irenya’s watch point.”

“Probably saw a dune lion and panicked,” Leth said, chasing after Aric.

The watch point was a tiny balcony on top of a turret. Irenya took the horn out of her mouth as soon as she saw them race towards her. She started panting as if she had been blowing the horn in a single, uninterrupted breath from the start.

“There…” She gasped. “There’s…”

“Easy,” Aric said. “Just breathe, alright?”

“Raiders,” she managed to say, stretching an arm towards the desert. “Dozens of them.”

“Where?” Leth asked, looking everywhere.

Where indeed. Aric scanned the vast, golden dunes. There was not a single person in sight. Not even Geric’s sneaky shadow. Just the usual rolling sea of dunes.

“I… I don’t understand,” Irenya grabbed the stone parapet and leaned out. “They were there. Charging across the sand. There were fifty of them, probably more.”

“Well,” Leth said, “maybe your horn scared them off.”

Luckily, Irenya did not pick up the sarcasm, but Aric shot him a stare anyway.

“Have you been drinking enough water?” Aric asked her. “It’s really hot out here.”

Irenya did not reply. She just kept searching the desert with her mouth half open. Whatever had happened, she clearly could not explain it.

“Wait, what is that?” Leth asked.

Aric followed his finger but did not see anything.

“Right there,” Leth insisted. “A flicker in the sand. Like a mirror.”

Squinting, Aric tried to focus on the spot Leth was indicating.

He was right. There
was
something in the sand. At first, it was just a sparkle, then…

“Are those white robes?” Irenya asked.

Eliran…
Aric thought. He turned and left. “It’s her,” he said. “It’s Eliran.”

“What? Where are you going?” Leth asked. He was forced to race after Aric across the whole fortress, crashing into the main gate just as Aric was opening it and forcing it closed once again. “Will you listen to me?” he said, his shoulder locking the gate in place. “We can’t know if we can trust her.”

“I think she needs help,” Aric said.

“How do you know?”

“She was clearly laying on the ground, fallen. She probably can’t walk. I’m guessing she used a spell to cause Irenya to hallucinate and sound the alarm. It was a call for help.”

Footsteps echoed through the hall. It was Clea, Ergon, and Ashur.

“What’s happening?” Ashur asked. “What was all that fuss about?”

Instead of answering, Aric turned to Leth. “You want to stay here? Fine,” he said. “But let me out.”

“It might be a trick,” Leth insisted, but he still stepped away from the door. “Remember all the valuable stuff in the fortress?”

“I doubt a sorceress has any interest in goats and hammers,” Aric replied, stepping out the door.

“Will someone please explain?” Clea said.

“Leth will fill you in,” Aric said.

“Wait!” Leth grabbed Aric’s arm. “At least take a horse. You’ll waste the better part of an hour just getting up and down the mountain.”

Aric agreed with a nod and, moments later, he was galloping down the mountain, a cloud of dust and sand trailing in his path. He found Eliran’s body about two hundred yards south of the foothold of Lamash, her white robes spread across the sand like a puddle of milk.

With a jump, Aric got off the horse and knelt beside her. She did not look in very good shape. Her robes were torn to shreds, three crimson slashes crossed the pale flesh of her face, and one of her hands looked like it had been burnt to a crisp.

Exactly like the corpse in my dreams…
 

“Eliran?” he called, grabbing one of her shoulders.

Aric shook her, slowly at first, then more vigorously, but she did not respond. He placed an ear on her chest and felt it rise before hearing a faint heartbeat. She was alive.

“What happened to you?”

Having run out of options, Aric decided to lift her to his horse, then galloped back to the fortress.

He raced up the mountain and stormed straight into the fortress’ main hall, the horse’s hooves clopping wildly on the stone floor.

“What happened?” Clea asked.

“I don’t know,” Aric replied, taking Eliran’s body off the horse as gently as possible. “But I bet it was the other Mage. Help me get her into a bed. Ergon, get your sister, please. She might be able to help.”

“The other Mage,” Leth said, locking the great wooden gate. “You mean the one we don’t even know for sure if he exists?”

“She’s unconscious, Leth,” Aric said. “Just look at her wounds. We need to help her.”

“Sure,” Leth said. “She was probably not unconscious when she made Irenya hallucinate with dozens of raiders, though.”

“Yeah, she’s probably playing with our heads,” Ashur said, stepping closer to Eliran’s body. “I bet those wounds are fake.”

Aric looked from Leth to Ashur. “Well, she made the two of you agree. That’s powerful magic indeed.”

They placed Eliran right across from the Company’s quarters, in a room Aric guessed had once been the private chamber of some Captain or Lieutenant. Lyra washed the Witches’ wounds the best she could, but everything else was beyond her knowledge. The burn on Eliran’s left hand, for example, was nothing like anything she had ever seen. All Lyra could do was treat it like any other burn and hope for the best.

Aric, Leth, and Clea were standing by the door, watching quietly as Lyra changed the wet towel on Eliran’s forehead.

“You know there’s no point in you three standing there, right?” Lyra said. “She won’t get any better just cause you’re staring.”

“I want to be here when she wakes up,” Aric said. “I’m the one who brought her in. I want to make sure I don’t regret that decision.”

“So you’re just going to stand there night and day until she does?” Lyra asked. “What if she never wakes up?” She turned and placed two fingers on her patient’s neck. “Her pulse is weak and uneven, she might neve
r‒
”

A hand jumped from the bed and grabbed Lyra’s arm, making her squeak.

“What are you doing? Who are you?” The Witch said, her eyes bulging, suddenly awake.

“I… I’m,” Lyra mumbled.

“She’s one of my people,” Aric said, stepping forward and releasing Lyra from Eliran’s grasp. “And she’s trying to help you.”

There was a flicker in the Witch’s eyes, and she seemed to relax, but only a little.

“What is this?” she asked, raising her charred hand. “What did you put on my skin?”

“It… It’s just an ointment,” Lyra replied, standing up from the bed and taking a step back.

“Of
what
?” Eliran demanded.

“Blonde grass,” Lyra replied. “And… and blood parsley… I think.”

“You
think
!?” Eliran smelled her hand and sat up on the bed.

“Hey!” Aric snapped. “She probably saved your life. The least you can do is show a little respect.”

Once again, Eliran seemed to calm down. “My life wasn’t in danger,” she said, then turned to Lyra. “Where did you learn how to heal?”

Lyra was going to reply, but Aric cut her off. “She doesn’t owe you an explanation!” he said.

“I’m a Mage, you fool!” Eliran stood up, her raggedy, white robes flowing around her. “And I was under a heavy dose of Runium. My body responds differently from regular people’s.” She looked at Lyra. “The ointment seems harmless enough, but I need to know what else you gave me.” She moved her tongue as if she was savoring something. “You gave me something to eat? What’s this taste?”

“Just an infusion,” Lyra replied. “Galennia petals and white bark leaf.”

“Anything else?” The Witch received a vigorous shake of the head. “Hmm, let me guess, Temple healer?”

“Yes. I used to help the healer in my orphanage. She taught me.”

“See?” Eliran told Aric. “If she had told me sooner, there would have been no need to worry. The Temple specializes in pointlessness.” She turned to the bed and fumbled around the sheets. “Where are my things? I had a satchel with me.”

“Your possessions are under my custody for now,” Aric replied.

An eyebrow climbed Eliran’s forehead. “What is that supposed to mean?” she asked.

“Why are you here?” Aric demanded.

The Witch did not reply right away. “My battle with Sohtyr did not… go according to plan,” she eventually said. “I needed a place to rest.”

“This Sohtyr you keep talking about,” Aric said, “I’m still unsure he really exists.”