Gradually, the dreamless sleep she’d fallen into faded away. As Thia woke, she heard someone shift in a chair. She stayed still, waiting for something to clue her in on who it was. Gnat insisted on sitting on the floor, near the bed. Caelynn? Jinaari was exhausted. He should still be asleep.
“Good morning,” Jinaari said softly.
Sitting up, she saw him rise. The curtains and shadows in the dimly lit room hid his face. “How late is it? Is Adam back?”
He walked toward her. “It’s not quite mid-morning. Caelynn sat in here, studying, until I woke up. I’ve been here less than an hour. She’s resting. And, no, Adam’s not back yet. I don’t anticipate him until this afternoon. We’ll have a lazy day, head out tomorrow. I want him to have full stores before we get on the road.” He sat on the side of the bed. “How are things with you?”
“Okay, I guess. No headaches, I’m not tired, I’m just . . .” She sighed and looked at him. “I guess I’m waiting for something to happen that tells me it’s getting worse.” She looked at her hands; the sparks still danced as if nothing had changed. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“Thia, you’ve done nothing wrong.”
She raised her head and looked at him. “I promised you I wouldn’t heal the bruise Sayge gave you until we were away from here. I know what it meant to her, and for you to have it show, but I healed it anyway.”
His hand closed over her, reassuring her that he wasn’t mad. “You needed proof that you could still heal others. It was visible, easy, and you saw it disappear. Your confidence needed the boost. I am not upset that you did it. It was necessary.”
“I gave you my word, Jinaari,” the words tumbled out of her mouth in a rush. “People already think the worst of me because of my eyes. If people start thinking I can’t keep a simple promise, it’ll—”
His finger touched her lips, and she fell silent. “If anyone asks, which no one here will, I’ll tell them I did it. That the healing I can do also works on myself.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want you lying for me.”
He smiled. “I won’t be. The largest healing spell I can cast, the one I used on you, does help me at the same time. I’m a warrior, Thia. I get injured, as do my brothers. That sigil is designed to keep one person alive while healing the caster enough that they can continue to fight. It’s also unique to Garret’s Paladins, so I can’t teach it to anyone. Not even you.”
She cocked her head to one side. “Are you so sure about that?” Stretching, she continued. “A lazy day, you said? Does that mean you plan to get another bruise from sparring? I’ve never known you to simply lounge around.”
Her heart skipped a beat at the look in his eyes. “Maybe I’m thinking of a different kind of sparring.” His voice was low as he moved to kiss her.
Someone knocked softly on the door. “Jinaari?” Caelynn said as she peeked her head into the room.
“Later,” Thia whispered as he drew back.
“What is it, Caelynn?” Jinaari asked. He walked closer to the bard. Thia pushed aside the blankets and searched for the socks she’d kicked off as she slept.
“Thia?”
“I’m awake.”
“I may have found something. I don’t know if it is, but it’s the closest to what you’re experiencing.” Caelynn sat in a chair.
Walking toward the others, Thia threw a shawl over her shoulders. The bard held a large book in her hands, fingers marking a page. The leather binding was cracked with age; faded gold lettering decorated the spine in a language she didn’t know. “What’s that?”
“It’s an alchemist’s journal. He lived centuries ago in Tavisholm. Most of it is pretty dull reading; notations about potions requested, ailments they were good against. The local healer was a snob, apparently. They only healed those whose injuries they felt were ‘worthy’ of their magic. The rest of the city went to this guy. Here,” she opened the book and sat it on the table, “is where it gets interesting.”
Thia leaned in, trying to read the area Caelynn pointed to. “What language is it? I can’t read it.”
“That’s the Old Tongue,” Jinaari said. “It fell out of use after the kingdoms were united by the relics. Few know it now.”
She looked at Caelynn in amazement. “You know this?”
“I’m a bard, Thia,” she replied. “Some of the best tales are the oldest ones. I had to learn if I wanted to use them in songs or stories.”
“What does it say?”
“A client came in, worried about their friend. They had an illness that was causing them to speak differently, show a different personality. At first, it was nothing but a cough. By the time the client came to the apothecary, it was much worse. Their family had shunned them because of the things he’d say, so this person took them in. Over time, however, the symptoms got more severe. The patient was tired, but unable to sleep. His speech patterns would change mid-sentence. When they tried to go to the local healer, they turned them aside in horror. And I quote, ‘the priest declared before those waiting that the curse was divine in nature and that he would not undo the will of the Gods’.”
“Cursed?” Thia looked at Jinaari. “Who would’ve cursed me? And when? I’d have known if this happened!”
Jinaari looked at her. “The symptoms aren’t identical to yours, Thia. It’s possible it’s not a curse.” He turned back to Caelynn. “What else does it say?”
“The apothecary gave them some potions, and instructions on how and when to use them.” She looked up, and Thia drew back from the sadness in her friend’s eyes. “I know the combination. It’s used to induce a deep sleep. In the amounts specified, the patient wouldn’t have woken up.”
Thia sat back, stunned. “The apothecary helped this person kill their friend?”
“That’s not the important part, Thia,” Jinaari said. “If it’s a curse, that explains why neither you nor Keroys could find anything wrong.”
“But who could’ve cursed me?” she asked.
“Samil,” Adam said.
Thia looked toward the door. Adam closed it then walked toward them. “When? How?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he said as he settled into a chair. His face was tired. “When I confronted him in the Green Frog, he said something about you not being able to trust those around you, or appearing mad. This could be what he was talking about. If he did this, it happened between when he showed up and then.”
Thia buried her head in her hands. “I was careful, though,” she said. She felt Jinaari’s hand on her shoulder, reassuring her. Raising her head, she looked at Caelynn. “You were there, almost every time I saw him. I refused the gift he wanted to give me. The one time he touched me, when I fell, he didn’t say anything even close to a curse. He laughed about my elbow being sharp.”
“It is,” Jinaari said. “You’ve jabbed me in the ribs with it enough.”
Thia glared at him. “That’s not the point. How can he put a curse on me when I’ve never taken anything he’s offered? I know how they work, Jinaari. It’s either attached to an item, or the words are said to the recipient. Nothing he ever said to me could be considered a curse. He needed me alive, wanted me aware of what he was making me do.”
“Where’s the arrowhead?” Adam asked.
She blinked, trying to remember. “I’m not sure.”
Jinaari looked at her. “What arrowhead?”
“When Samil pretended to be you, he wore a necklace—an arrowhead on a leather strap—around his neck. He said it was the one that he—you—were shot with and it was a reminder that he wasn’t immortal. It proved my suspicion that it wasn’t really you. You’ve never taken off your medallion that I know of. I got him close enough to break it off his neck. That’s when the illusion shattered. It was the real thing he used to make my mind believe.” She looked at Adam. “I remember showing it to you, when Samil disappeared. But I don’t know what happened to it after that. As far as I know, it’s back in your room in Cirrain. That, or I put it in my pocket and took it back to my room.”
“Check your pack. Make sure it’s not hiding in there,” Jinaari ordered.
Thia rose and picked up her bag. Tossing it on the bed, she began to rifle through everything. “Why can’t I remember what happened to it?”
Adam coughed. “You had a fair amount of mead that night.”
“Not so much I can’t remember what happened.” She threw the last bit of clothing aside. Picking up the bag, her hands searched every pocket. “If it’s a curse, shouldn’t it have died with Samil?”
“He’s not dead,” Jinaari said, “unless the Solar’s decided otherwise.”
“No. There’s not been word about that from Helmshouse. I do, however, have these.” Adam said.
Thia dropped the pack. “It’s not in there.” Walking back over, she took a letter from his hand. “What’s this?”
“It’s from Elizabeth and Pan. Jinaari’s comes from Tomil and Amara.”
Thia sat. The gold ribbon was accented by a blue border. The seal was her aunt’s private one, not the one of the Queen of Avoch. Glancing at Jinaari, she saw him slide the other one between his leg and the arm of the chair. Neither of us want to read them in front of Adam and Caelynn. Why? I have to tell them what it says. I trust them. Or, I should. Shaking her head, she slid a finger under the seal and broke it.
“Thia?” Jinaari asked, “how are things with you?”
She looked at him. “No secrets, right? If there’s something in here that we all need to know, that keeps me alive, then why wait?”
Adam coughed. “Tomil and Elizabeth both asked some questions before they wrote those letters. I tried to keep my answers positive, especially when it came to the seriousness of Thia’s illness. That’s what was asked of me.”
Thia nodded, then began to read the letter.
My dear niece,
Your friend says you are well, all things considered, and I hope he is right. You are missed, and I look forward to seeing you ride back through the gates of Cirrain before midsummer. I’ve asked Pan to do some research, without telling him why as it would only worry him. If anything is found, I will send a message to Tavisholm. I have an old friend there who will watch for you.
Elizabeth
Shuffling the pages, she saw Pan’s name at the bottom of the second one.
“Any news?” Jinaari asked.
“None yet,” she replied, glancing at him. “Only that I’m missed, that she hopes we can return to Cirrain by midsummer. And that she put Pan in charge of research without telling him why. There’s a note from him, as well.” She noticed his letter was unsealed. “What news from Almair?”
“That I need to be back before my niece or nephew is born or my sister will have my head on a stake.”
Thia smiled. “Amara’s pregnant! That’s great news!”
“Tomil said he’d send word to us in Tavisholm if he found anything.”
“So did Elizabeth.” Thia focused on the letter again, reading the second page.
Cousin!
Are you sick? Did Caelynn get hurt? Mother told me to look for something that might cause some strange symptoms but not why. I hope you’re not sick. That wouldn’t be good. But you’re the strongest person I know, so it can’t be you. You don’t have to tell Jinaari I said this, but you’re stronger than he is. Not with a sword or in a fight, but you’ve faced some pretty terrible people and came out on top. I mean, we kinda helped. I think. Eli says hello and that I have to stop writing or Adam will leave without my letter. It was nice to see him. I miss you all soooo much! Stay safe!
Pan
“If the arrowhead isn’t with her, then it can’t be the source of the curse,” Caelynn said.
“Maybe it’s not a curse?” Thia looked at Jinaari, hoping he’d agree. His face was blank, though. That’s odd.
“Anything else happen we need to know about?” Jinaari’s tone was flat.
What was in that letter?
Adam shook his head. “No. I went to Cirrain first, then over to Almair. Took a short rest while Tomil wrote the letter, enough to recharge my stores, and came back here. Where’s Gnat?”
“Sleeping. You need to as well. I’m on watch. I want everyone ready to leave at first light.” His voice was firm.
The other two rose. “I’ll take this with me, see if I can find anything else,” Caelynn said as she picked up the book.
As soon as they left, Jinaari said, “Thia, go lock the door. Put the key someplace, then bring me the pitcher and bowl over there.”
She glanced to where he pointed. “What’s wrong?”
“Do it.”
“Okay,” she said, rising from her chair. She locked the door, then walked over to where the items he wanted were. Leaving the key on top of the cabinet, she brought them over. “What’s going on?”
He looked up at her, his face serious. “They’re lying.”
“Who?”
“Adam and Caelynn.” He poured water from the pitcher into the basin. “I caught them arguing before he left. There’s something they’re not planning to tell us until somewhere between here and Tavisholm. Caelynn said it was about their past, had nothing to do with your illness, but she didn’t translate the book correctly.”
“You can read Old Tongue?”
Jinaari nodded. “Our spells use it. It’s Garret’s native language.” Pulling a dagger out of his belt, he carefully pried up the wax seal on the outside of the letter he was given.
Thia blinked. “What did she get wrong?”
“The curse was put on the man by a death mage and could only be undone by either the caster or a God. At the time, death mages worked for anyone rich—or desperate—enough to afford their services.” Jinaari sighed. “The man hired the mage, desperate to save his daughter from a disease. The priest had refused to, because the family wasn’t well-connected. When his daughter got better, the mage asked for payment. Only the harvest had been lean and the man hadn’t been able to earn enough from his crops. That’s when the mage cursed him. Garret cured the man and gave his daughter to the mage as payment. He then turned on the priest, furious for his refusal to help. He disbanded the clerical part of his followers there and then, saying only those who knew the meaning of honor, would fight for justice, would ever be allowed to earn a place among his warriors. It’s the day my Order came into existence. The story is taught to us as initiates as an example of why we must hold to our word.”
Thia sat back; her chest tight. “I . . .” she stammered, “I don’t understand. Why would she not tell us that?”
“I’m not sure. Garret can be an arrogant prick, and the story does paint him in a bad light to anyone who doesn’t understand why he is the way he is.”
“Is that where you get it from?” Thia tried to lighten the mood, but her mind reeled from what he was telling her.
“It certainly didn’t lessen it.”
“Did Amara say anything in the letter beyond being pregnant? You didn’t share much.”
“She did, but not in writing.” He picked up the seal, “Back when I first went into training, Amara found a way to send me messages that couldn’t be read. It was her way of keeping me informed of some of the more interesting things going on at court, since I wasn’t there.” He traced a sigil, then put his hands on each side of the bowl and whispered, “Calidus.”
Steam rose from the water as Jinaari released his spell. “She could put a small drop or two of her blood into the molten wax of a seal. Until that letter got over twenty feet away from her, the seal would record everything she saw or heard, through her eyes. Any message with the words, ‘blood strengthens us,’ meant she’d done this. All I had to do was put it into hot water and let it melt.” He glanced at her as he dropped the wax into the bowl.
Thia leaned forward, not sure what to expect. The water turned a dark red, then the color spread away from the center. She saw Tomil’s face.
“I don’t know, Amara,” the duke said.
“Trust me,” Amara’s voice drifted up from the water. “He barely answered our questions and wanted unlimited access to the archives. Adam’s traveled with Jinaari for years. I’ve never seen him so anxious.”
Tomil handed her something, “You’re sure this will work?”
“It will.”
The background changed, and Thia watched as Amara headed down a hall and then a spiral staircase. “Adam?” she called out. “Are you down here?” She rounded a corner.
Adam stood in front of a wood table. Three books sat open in front of him. His eyes were wide. “I didn’t think you’d be done with the letter this soon.” Thia caught the catch in his voice.
“Tomil didn’t want to say much. He trusts Jinaari to take care of Thia. Are those the early texts?” Amara asked as she walked closer.
The warlock slammed the books closed. “Yes, well, I was hoping to find a clue as to the person Gnat spoke of. Helix.” He took the letter Amara offered, tucking it between the pages of one book. “I’ve got to get to Cirrain yet, and we can’t stay at the monastery that long. I know your brother’s itching to get back on the road.” He slid the book into his satchel. “I’ll make sure to return this one. Don’t worry.” Colors swirled around him, and the water in the bowl became clear.
Thia looked at Jinaari, her eyes wide. “He told us he went to Cirrain first. Never talked about the book. Why?”
“I don’t know. And that’s the problem.” Jinaari gestured at the letters she had. “We should burn those.”
Handing it over to him, her mind reeled. “They worked so hard to gain my trust,” she said, her voice quiet. “Both have saved my life. Adam helped me save yours. He told me there were some skeletons in his closet, but what could be so bad that he’d lie to you like that?”
Jinaari stood and walked over to one of the braziers. Thia saw him trace a sigil. The papers ignited, and he dropped them onto the glowing coals. “I don’t know, but I intend to find out. They weren’t willing to tell me earlier, so I’ll give them a few days. Until then, I’ll set up any room we stay in where I’m between you and them. They won’t get past me.”
Thia stared at him, horrified at his suggestion. “You don’t think they’d do anything to me, do you? Jinaari, they’re my family!”
“So was Herasta. Right now, I trust them as much as I did her.”