Arcanius (14 page)

It was difficult, slow work, but there was always a sense of accomplishment whenever Tiberius healed someone. He liked knowing he was using his magic for good and that no one could argue that healing another person wasn’t right. They might fear or even hate magic, but they had to accept that
this
was good.

He was almost finished driving Robere’s fever away when he suddenly felt as if he needed to stop. He couldn’t understand why. His mind was completely focused on the task of healing his old servant, but something was trying desperately to get his attention. Still, he didn’t want to stop before he had done everything he could for Robere. And, he rationalized, Lexi was with him. She would let him know if something was wrong.

The fever spell was much like scrubbing an oily dish and required Tiberius to give all his attention to the spell. He beat back the fever and gave Robere one final inspection. Tiberius didn’t want Robere to suffer because he had missed something.

When Tiberius finally sat back and opened his eyes, a wave of fatigue crashed over him. He sat watching Robere, who was resting quietly. Tiberius got to his feet slowly and looked for Lexi, but she wasn’t in sight. The dungeon was quiet, and he began to worry a little.

“Lexi?” he said, his voice echoing off the stone walls. “Where are you?”

He stepped to the metal door of the narrow cell, and then he saw Lexi. She was lying on the floor in a pool of blood. His heart nearly stopped beating, and for an instant he was frozen in fear. Just past her in the corridor lined with dungeon cells lay another man. Lexi’s dagger was still lodged in his neck, and it was clear the man was dead.

Tiberius rushed to Lexi’s side, kneeling beside her. She was still breathing, but her mouth was covered with red, foamy bubbles. He searched her lithe body and found the handle of the healer’s knife protruding from her ribs. He felt a sob catch in his throat and he braced himself. He jerked the knife free, releasing a torrent of blood.

“
Acies Penetralis Deprimo Sano Crudus Viscus
,” he said loudly.

Immediately he felt the magic rushing forward, and he poured it into Lexi’s frail body. His mind sank down into Lexi’s chest where he could sense that her lung had been punctured by the knife. It was nearly full of her blood, which was why she was struggling to breathe and why her mouth and nose were covered with red foam.

He let the magic do its work, and the blood in her lung began to recede. He hardly noticed the searing pain of the
Corporeus Adfectus
. His heart was thundering with worry, and his mind was channeling a raging stream of healing magic into the person he loved most in the world.

Once her lung was drained of blood, the magic began to heal the delicate organ itself. The flesh knit itself back together, but unlike the other lung, which was large and full of air as she breathed, the other lung was small and flat.

“
Sano Sarcio Acies Deprimo Abscido
,” Tiberius said, changing from the spell to heal internal bleeding to the spell to heal lacerations.

He kept his mind focused on Lexi’s body as his magic healed her. The muscles reconnected, and the skin slowly grew back until her side was perfect. There was no indication, other than the blood, that she had ever been wounded. Tiberius opened his eyes, expecting to see Lexi coming around, but instead she was wheezing, her face contorted in pain.

“Lexi!” Tiberius said, shaking her shoulder slightly. “Lexi, wake up.”

Her eyes opened, but her face was still pinched with pain.

“Can’t … breathe,” she said.

Tiberius wasn’t sure what to do. He didn’t have a spell that would re-inflate her lung. She would have to do that herself, and it was obvious she was struggling.

“It’s just your lung,” Tiberius said. “I healed it, but you’ve got to breathe deeply. You have to refill it with air.”

“Hurts,” she said.

Tiberius rolled her onto her side and held her hand.

“You can do it,” he said. “Breathe with me.”

He took a long, slow breath, filling his lungs with air. Lexi was still panting, but she tried to do what Tiberius told her. Then she coughed and sputtered.

“You can’t give up,” he told her. “Keep trying.”

They breathed together for a moment, then Lexi squeezed Tiberius’ hand and pointed up. He looked up, but there was nothing to see in the dark corridor.

“What is it?”

“Up,” she managed to say.

“You want to stand up?”

She nodded. Tiberius wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not, but she seemed to be recovering. He stood up and helped Lexi slowly to her feet. Once she was standing, she put one hand on the metal bars of the nearest cell and took deep breaths over and over again.

“Are you okay?” Tiberius asked after a moment.

Lexi nodded but focused on her breathing.

“Master Tiberius,” said a strange-sounding voice. “You saved her.”

Ti turned and found Robere leaning against the bars of his own cell. He looked frightened but somehow proud at the same time.

“Are you okay?” Tiberius asked the older servant.

Robere nodded.

“Okay, let’s get out of here.”

Robere had no trouble walking, although he was embarrassed by the fact that he had no clothes. Tiberius wrapped his cloak around the older man and then walked with Lexi back out into the room lit by the soft glow of a lantern. He stopped for a moment.

“Stay here,” he said.

Then he hurried back to the filthy man in the corridor. Tiberius bent over the corpse but he didn’t recognize the man. He pulled Lexi’s dagger free, then wiped it on the dead man’s cloak. When he got back to the anteroom at the bottom of the dungeon stairs, Robere was staring at him.

“You killed Quintus,” he said, his voice rasping over his healed but toothless gums.

“No, I think Lexi did that,” Tiberius said. “Let’s go.”

They climbed the stairs slowly. Lexi was improving, but Tiberius didn’t want her to strain her recently collapsed lung. When they got to the door, it swung open easily, and they all felt a little better once the door was closed behind them.

“How did you make it back to the city?” Robere asked in a soft voice. “I thought you were surely dead.”

“It’s a long story,” Tiberius said. “But the blighted lands aren’t barren—they’re lush and full of life.”

“How is that possible?”

“I don’t know,” Tiberius said as they kept ascending the stone staircase, past the storage rooms and then the kitchens. “We came back to bring Olyva’s family.”

“What about Leonosis? He had Quintus torture me, and they kept me locked in the dungeons.”

“Leonosis isn’t here,” Tiberius said. “He’s gone to Sparlan Citadel, married the princess, murdered the king, and taken his throne.”

Robere looked troubled. He obviously couldn’t believe what he’d just heard, but Tiberius knew it was the truth. He moved quietly, helping Lexi and taking them up to the earl’s private quarters.

“
Abdidi Incantatio
,” he said, casting the cloaking spell on them before stepping out into the broad hallway that led to Tiberius’ old room.

When they slipped inside, Tiberius realized the bed hadn’t been made since he had slept there earlier that day. He was so used to Robere taking care of his every need that seeing his bed unmade was surprising to him, even though he had just rescued the old servant from the dungeon.

“Sorry about the bed,” Tiberius said. “But you can rest here.”

“Where are you going?” Robere asked.

“Lexi and I have business in the city. You rest. If anyone asks about me, you don’t know anything. We’ll back later tonight.”

“And then what?” Robere asked.

“And then, hopefully, we’ll know what to do next.”

Chapter 16

Olyva

The sky ship from Hamill Keep had moved away from Mount Avondale. It didn’t move far, just back away from the huge mountain so that a sudden change of weather wouldn’t smash the vessel against the rocky terrain. Olyva didn’t like being so far away from Rafe. She felt oddly alienated on the sky ship, despite the fact that her mother and sisters were with her. Tiberius had used magic to calm everyone’s attitudes about her and about the fact that he was a wizard, but he was no longer on the ship, and Olyva could feel the stares of the ship’s crew whenever she was out of her cabin.

Ignoring her sisters was difficult, as well. She wanted to be in the bright, amber-colored sunlight, but she couldn’t help hearing her sisters whispering about her. They huddled together, plotting ways to get rid of Olyva and somehow return to Hamill Keep. She also knew they would prefer being in a different city, a wealthier city, but they needed to be married to have any wealth of their own. Olyva tried not to laugh at the irony that Rafe and Tiberius were working to get them into Avondale. She knew they had no idea how wondrous Avondale truly was, and yet ironically all they could talk about was seeing Olyva and her friends fail. They plotted to throw her overboard and leave her stranded in the blighted lands, but in truth she wanted nothing more than to be off the sky ship and back on the rich plains with Rafe and their friends.

“Don’t brood,” her mother chastised her as Olyva leaned against the ship’s rail watching for any sign of Rafe or the others. “It’s unbecoming.”

“I’m not brooding,” Olyva said. “I’m watching for my friends.”

“Yes, your friends,” her mother went on in a patronizing tone. “I can’t say I approve.”

“You would rather I had married Brutas? He’s a pig.”

“Perhaps, but then he’ll be Earl of Avondale, won’t he, dear? Not just a homeless swordsman.”

“Rafe isn’t homeless. You should be more appreciative—he saved our lives.”

“He wouldn’t have had to save it if he hadn’t endangered it in the first place.”

Olyva shrugged her shoulders, deciding not to remind her mother that the creature inhabiting their father’s body had beaten the countess so badly just before they fled Hamill Keep that her mother could barely walk. The fact that her mother had already forgotten her torment just confirmed what Olyva felt about her family, and it made her feel ashamed that she had ever been like that, but she knew she had been just as shallow and self-centered when she went to Avondale to become Brutas’ wife.

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Olyva said, turning her attention back to the mountain.

“I’m sorry that you’ve been infected with…” Her mother didn’t finish her insult but just looked at Olyva’s feet as if she were hideously ugly.

Olyva just laughed, which only made her mother even more angry.

“I’m going to order the ship to sail for Sparlan Citadel at first light,” the countess snapped. “I’m sure the new king would be interested in hearing all about your attack on your father.”

“How can you be so blind?” Olyva insisted. She whirled around to face her mother, who had backed away from the ship’s railing and had been joined by Cassandra and Frezya. “Do you really think you’ll be safe in the very place where Father was murdered?”

“Don’t talk about Father that way,” Cassandra hissed.

“Your father was a good man,” the countess insisted.

“But he didn’t return from the capital. If that is where you want to go, by all means, don’t let me stop you. But I’ll wait here for my friends.”

“You’ll do as you’re told, freak,” Frezya said.

“Your disrespectful attitude is very unbecoming,” Countess Mauryn added.

“There are worse things than being unbecoming,” Olyva shot back. “Like being an ignorant suck-up.”

“How dare you!” cried Cassandra.

“Throw her overboard, mother!” Frezya demanded.

“Look!” cried Desyra, pointing up at the sky. “It’s a ship. See!”

Olyva turned around and saw the hull of the war ship appearing out of the mist. She felt a stab of panic as the ship’s crew began to shout and run to their stations.

“To the cabin, girls!” Mauryn ordered. “That means you too, Olyva.”

But Olyva ignored her mother. She watched the ship descend and felt cold suddenly. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. How had the war ship known where they were? Did this mean that Rafe and Tiberius had somehow failed? Were they all dead? And what about Lexi?

Olyva didn’t know what to do. She wanted to get off the ship, where she could flee down the mountainside, but they were too high off the ground, and the ship’s captain was getting ready to flee from the war ship. Then Olyva realized what would happen next. The war ship would shoot fire bombs at the larger, slower sky ship. One hit would be all it took to set the vessel ablaze. The wood would burn quickly, and unless the bulbous hylum sail was somehow damaged, the fire would consume them all before they could escape to the blighted lands.

The war ship continued to descend, and for some reason Olyva couldn’t tear her eyes away from the smaller vessel. Then she noticed something odd. Someone in the bow of the ship was leaning over the railing and waving a white flag. Olyva was just about to shout to the captain when one of the crew saw the flag and called out to the captain.