His skin was cold and lifeless to the touch and the illusion of the ropes that bound him was even stronger. She dipped a cloth into the first mixture and carefully washed his chest. She propped him up and washed his back with the same preparation. She spoke to him as she went, explaining each step.
“This is a preparation to sooth your skin and stimulate the blood flow,” she said. She carefully washed his arms, gently massaging them as she went. When she reached his hands, she individually washed and rubbed each of his fingers, flexing the joints one after another, until finally she reached his nails.
She paused there and placed a poultice on his forehead. “This will soothe your mind while I work,” she said. She massaged the poultice with her palm, slowly rocking the warm, moist mixture back and forth across his forehead. She patted it gently with her hand and said, “Rest while I clean you up.”
She produced a razor and soap that Gareb had loaned her. She quickly shaved the growth of beard from his chin, pausing periodically to refresh the poultice on his forehead.
When she’d finished with his beard, she carefully trimmed his fingernails and massaged his fingers once more. She washed them in the solution she’d prepared. She could feel the power of the ropes diminish as she worked. It felt as if they were fading ever so slowly.
She raised his head and lifted a bottle to his lips. “Here, drink this,” she said, tilting it just enough to spill a few drops onto his tongue. He swallowed reflexively, so she added a few more drops.
He moaned softly as she placed his head back on the pillow. His eyes fluttered beneath the lids, but he did not wake. Chihon replaced the poultice and continued washing his chest and arms, softly repeating the words of liberation and freedom as she worked. She could feel it taking hold, but Lorit remained fast asleep.
After several hours, Yerlow entered the room. She carried a tray of bread and cheese and a few pieces of fowl meat left over from dinner.
“You must be hungry,” she said, as she placed the tray on the table.
“I’m exhausted,” Chihon said. “I can feel the spell lifting, but he’s still fast asleep. I fear I may not be strong enough.”
“My husband says you are one of the mighty ones,” she assured Chihon, “I’m certain you will succeed.
“Come take some food and rest a bit. You need your energy for this. You can’t stay up all night without something to sustain you.”
Chihon ceased her ministrations long enough to wolf down the food that Yerlow brought. “Forgive my manners,” she said, realizing that Yerlow had prepared this for her, and she’d eaten it as if it were an obligation or a task she’d rather have avoided.
“My mind is elsewhere,” Chihon said as she wiped her mouth. She gulped from the glass of cold water.
“Have some tea,” Yerlow said. “It will help calm you.”
“Thank you,” Chihon said. She carefully enfolded the cup in her hands. She’d spent so much time rubbing the mixture into Lorit’s skin that her hands were as cold and unfeeling as his. The warmth of the tea seeped through the cup and warmed her as she drank.
“How’s he doing?” Yerlow asked.
“The spell seems to be lifting, but he’s not responding yet.”
“Maybe he just needs a little rest now,” she said. “Why don’t you try to get some sleep yourself? You can start again in the morning, when you’re rested.”
Chihon looked at Lorit. He was fast asleep. She ran her hands ever so gently above him, feeling for the web. “I think you’re right. I can’t feel the web anymore.”
“Come,” Yerlow said. “You can sleep in the workroom; I’ve prepared a blanket and pillow for you.”
“I think I’ll stay here,” Chihon said. “Lorit may wake. He may need me during the night.”
“I’ll bring you the blanket then, so you may be at least a little comfortable.” Yerlow departed and quickly returned with a thick blanket and a fluffy down pillow. “These should make you more comfortable,” she said.
Yerlow guided Chihon to the blanket, and stroked her hair as she lay down. “Rest up, dear, tomorrow will be a new dawn.”
Chihon fell fast asleep as Yerlow soothed her.
Over the next few days, Lorit regained consciousness for longer and longer periods of time. Chihon sat beside him, willing him back to health and strength. He muttered in his sleep and occasionally cried out in pain. It was those nights that Chihon sat up and comforted him.
“They killed Onolt,” he sobbed. “She was just a little girl. She never did anything.” He would grab at his chest and cry out in pain, thrashing about as if trying to escape someone who was cutting him. Suddenly, he would stop and begin sobbing until it finally subsided and he quieted.
During his calmer moments, he explained to her what he felt as he lay captive. He was certain the priests had killed his sister and his mother. He grew more angry and bitter about it as he recovered. Gone was the happy optimistic Lorit she’d met weeks back in Trickby. Lorit seemed older, harder, as if his happiness had died with his sister.
Sulrad sat behind his desk, impatiently awaiting the arrival of his summoning. Only Vorathorm had the nerve to make him wait, and one day the man would tarry a little too long.
The air shimmered and twisted into the shape of the High Priest. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” Vorathorm said as he materialized. He casually took a seat across from Sulrad, dropping into the chair as if it were his office and not Sulrad’s.
“The web has been broken,” Sulrad said without prelude or introduction. He looked at Vorathorm, waiting for the High Priest to react.
“The Wizard has broken free of the web? How was he able to do that? I destroyed the pairing when I dispatched the girl. He should have spent the next two seasons slowly dying in that crypt.”
Sulrad smiled. It looked like Vorathorm had been paying attention after all.
“Father Taiez did not provide a lot of detail. He sent an under priest to report the failure; there was very little to be garnered from him. He did indicate that it was strong Wizard’s magic that destroyed his carefully laid spell.
“I thought you had handled this situation. Have you failed me?” Sulrad asked, eying Vorathorm with a challenging look. He hoped the High Priest wasn’t going to let him down like so many others had.
Vorathorm looked slightly ashamed. “I handled the girl. That should have been enough to prevent this. Lorit should have been shielded from any Wizardly interference while he expired. No strength short of the pair bond should have been able to penetrate that web.” He shifted uncomfortably in the chair. “With the sister gone, who could have located him, much less broken the web?”
“That’s the heart of the matter, isn’t it?” Sulrad reached for a stack of papers on his desk. He lifted one of them and handed it to Vorathorm. My spies tell me that he had a girl with him at Bebrook. She was also with him at the court house when he testified, and she was still with him at the campsite when he was taken.
“It seems that I can trust no one to do a proper job with this. Do I have to spell everything out for you? It would be rare indeed that he and this girl are paired, but until we get our hands on them, we must treat them both as a threat.” Sulrad explained. He kept his shields at full strength throughout the conversation. Vorathorm was a superb tool, but like a sharp knife, one had to take precautions or risked serious injury.
“So they have not been able to locate him?” Vorathorm asked. He flipped through the papers as he spoke.
“He may still be in Trickby,” Sulrad said. “I scarcely believe he could have gotten far. Even with the web broken, he must be weak. Find him and destroy him.”
Vorathorm stood up and bowed slightly. “As you wish.” He stepped back to the center of the carpet where he had first appeared and quickly vanished.
Awakening
“Chihon?” Lorit called out. “Chihon? Are you there?”
He sat up in a strange bed. The stone tomb that trapped him was gone. It had been replaced by a heavy comforter. He looked around the room in a panic before he remembered where he was.
“Lorit?” Chihon called from the kitchen. “I’m in here.”
Lorit sat up in the bed, wrapping the blanket around him. He was still weak, but regaining his strength more and more each day. Chihon entered the room carrying a plate filled with bread and cheese slices and a cup of steaming tea.
“Here,” she said, offering it to him. “Your breakfast is ready.
“Did you have the dream again?” she asked.
“I did. Not so vivid this time.”
“Good. Zhimosom and Rotiaqua say they can feel your powers again.”
“This is a good thing?” he queried her.
“They were worried about you,” she said. “They didn’t believe that you were still alive. They were completely unable to sense you using any method known to them.”
“But you were. I felt you reaching for me.”
“Yes, I could,” she said.
Lorit questioned her at length about what she'd done, and what the web was like that had enmeshed him. He reviewed the remedy she had used reading and studying her spell book. He even borrowed more from Gareb and read those, too.
“I don’t speak words or create potions,” Lorit said one afternoon, “I just do the magic.”
“Maybe the words help,” Chihon said.
Lorit opened the palm of his hand. “Incendo ignio,” he whispered. A small flame appeared just above his hand. He could feel the heat of it, but it did not burn. “Incendo exstinguere,” he said quietly.
The flame vanished and his hand immediately cooled. He stared at his palm again and willed the fire into existence without a word. It appeared just as readily as when he spoke. He extinguished it just as easily.
“It does not seem to make any difference.”
“Maybe it only helps when you really need it,” she said.
“Advolo ad mea,” he said, stretching his hand out towards the plate Chihon had placed on the table. The cheese lifted from the platter, wobbling slightly, and then headed for his hand. He grabbed it out of the air and took a bite of it before tossing it back. The cheese obediently floated back to settle squarely on the plate once again.
“Did they have any idea who would do something like this?” Lorit asked.
“They think that it was the work of the Temple. Not your local priest, but someone high up in the Temple hierarchy, or a combination of very powerful priests.”
“I need to get going,” Lorit said. “I have to find out who did this, and repay them for their kindness.”
“You’re still recovering your strength, Lorit. You need to rest at least another week.”
“A few more days, no more,” Lorit said, “I have to get going.” He lay back in the bed, wrapping the blanket around him and was soon fast asleep.
Lorit woke in the middle of the night. It was pitch dark. He felt the call of Zhimosom pulling at him. He relaxed and allowed the wizard to appear.
The old wizard materialized, sitting in the familiar chair in his study. He was surrounded by books stacked on the floor and table. He leaned forward into the light of the candle.
“You're looking better, son,” he said.
“I'm feeling better,” Lorit said. “I need to find out who did this to me.”
“Yes, I know you do. It may be dangerous, as you have not yet come into your full powers, and you are still weak from your trials.”
“I can’t just sit here and do nothing.”
“I understand,” the wizard said. “You will need to learn and practice a few more things if you wish to survive this quest you have set for yourself. It would do no good to find the priest who did this, only to fall under his spell once again”
“What do I need to learn that I haven’t already learned?” Lorit asked.
“You need to learn to counter spells such as the one you were captured with. You also need to learn how to shield yourself and those around you even while you sleep.
“You were overcome and physically assaulted while you slept,” the wizard explained. “Fortunately, they did not recognize the significance of the girl, or she would have been taken along with you. Had that happened, I fear that you both would have been lost and the Temple would have won.”
“Show me what you have in mind,” Lorit said. He crossed his arms across his chest and leaned back in the bed, waiting to see what the wizard had to say.
The wizard picked up his staff and used it to assist him in getting out of the chair. He walked around the desk and stood before Lorit. As he stretched out his staff, Lorit thought that the image seemed more solid than usual. The wizard raised his staff. With the blunt end, he jabbed Lorit in the chest.
Unprepared for the physical impact, Lorit jumped when the staff contacted him. He’d expected the vision to be insubstantial.
The wizard approached until he towered over Lorit.
“Do you require an object lesson?” he demanded. “I could do more than simply tap you with my staff.”
He pulled out the chair and seated himself with a heavy sigh. He leaned over and pointed at the candle which ignited, filling the room with light. The Wizard’s study faded, leaving Zhimosom sitting the table in the bedroom.
Zhimosom looked over the untouched dinner that Chihon had prepared for Lorit. He picked up the cheese and examined it as if inspecting it for flaws, then took a bite and placed it back on the plate.
“Are you ready to learn a few things now?” Zhimosom asked.
“Yes,” Lorit said, sitting at attention on his bed. “How did you get here physically, like that?”
“That, you will learn later. For now, we must concentrate on developing your ability to protect yourself even when asleep.”
The wizard carefully described the techniques that Lorit would need to protect himself. Until now, he’d maintained shields for specific purposes, like when he wanted to remain invisible as he had in his excursions through the temple or jail. Now he learned how to raise and maintain protective shields without even thinking.
The wizard repeatedly poked and prodded at him with his staff, as Lorit became more and more adept at the various forms of physical protection. Finally, he stepped back and asked, “Are you ready for the real test?”