by Tye Tivillus
Chapter 15: Note-Worthy Notes
The next morning started like any other; with a round of stretches and training, and then because they had finished early, with some sparring. Bo felt very self conscious sparring in front of Arty, Hayes and Alexander, but the weapons master had demanded that he and Ruben fight. Bo found that he felt more sure of his movements, and managed to get a number of controlled hits in. He marvelled at his own improvement as he managed to block and dodge some of Ruben's wilder attacks. Alexander even seemed impressed, giving a curt nod at the end of the fight to indicate as much. After Ruben and Bo settled back comfortably, Arty gave Alexander a wide grin.
'How would you feel about a friendly match? Hand to hand,' she asked boldly. Alexander raised one bushy eyebrow at the suggestion, but walked to the middle of the room, ready for the fight. Bo watched as the portly man fell into a casual stance, centring his balance with a practised ease and with both hands held up in a loose guard. Arty on the other hand took an odd stance on one foot, holding herself in a stiff pose. It didn't look entirely comfortable to Bo, but he'd seen how flexible Arty was and was not fooled into thinking she needed to expend much effort in maintaining her unusual footing.
Like flowing silk, Arty moved swiftly. Her motions were almost like that of a dancer at first, with both hands and legs moving gracefully through well practiced stances. Bo was startled at the deceptive speed of the action, and as the warrior's whole body was in motion, the inexperienced teen was unable to tell where the attack would come from. Arty's hands flashed wide, and she seemed to come close to hitting Alexander on more than one occasion, but the weapons master stood, unworried by the display. When Arty finally unleashed her attack – a roundhouse kick to the head – Alexander seemed to be expecting it. He stepped back only just enough that the kick went whistling past his beard, and then with surprising speed, stepped forward and landed an open handed blow on Arty's unguarded side. Quickly the two combatants parted. Arty looked mildly surprised, and Alexander's expression hadn't changed at all.
'Fought a lot with desert people, have you?' asked the woman warrior mirthlessly. Alexander seemed to be too absorbed by the fight to answer, but eventually he growled out a reluctant 'yes.' There was a strange tense atmosphere as the two squared off. Alexander seemed unwilling or unable to initiate combat, and so Arty approached again. She was more direct in her attacks now, aiming to land several less powerful blows at high speeds. The desert warrior used all of her body to accomplish this task, lashing out with her hands, stepping out of range and transferring her movement into a kick. Alexander for his part seemed content with dodging and blocking. He was preternaturally accurate with his judgement, staying just out of range for most attacks, and at times appearing not to have moved at all. Some of Arty's attacks were too fast to dodge in such a manner and the older fighter was forced to block them. As soon as he saw an opening, Alexander struck with a speed that was not hinted at by his casual stance and soft movements beforehand. Arty was ready, however, and managed to avoid being hit, but not to return the blow. Neither party managed to land many hits, and in the end they were forced to concede that it was a draw. Alexander broke into a smile as the fight was broken up, and the atmosphere of tension dissipated.
'You fight good, yez? Iz good practice for me.' In good humour the group broke up, with Alexander heading back to his quarters, Ruben to the library, and the remaining three to Erasmus' room for breakfast.
'There's another lunch today,' announced Erasmus over his plate of fruit. 'Takeshi wants everyone to attend this time. He says it looks bad if there are a few of us missing- not that it will stop some people from bunking off.' Erasmus glared at Arty and Hayes, who he still wasn't on particularly good terms with.
'Let me come too!' demanded Bo suddenly. He put down his food and glared boldly at Erasmus, sure that the mage would refuse his request. Bo had been feeling more and more like he was out of the loop, and that he wasn't able to do anything constructive with his time. He didn't want Erasmus falling prey to Takeshi again, and wasn't looking forward to spending his time by himself. Erasmus paused. He looked like he was torn on the decision, and his eyes flickered towards Arty as if seeking a silent approval. Arty stiffened slightly before letting out a sigh.
'This is so dangerous, you have no idea,' she grumbled. Bo turned his green gaze toward her, pleading with his eyes, trying to emulate Will's sad puppy expression. The warrior quickly gave in. 'I suppose if I don't agree to this you'll just follow us anyway. Maybe I should just tie you to the bed so that you can't.' Bo's eyes widened, as he worried that Arty would follow through on the threat, but the woman just laughed at him, reassuring the teen that she had been joking.
'Hm, you may have a point there Arty, maybe we should tie him to the bed?' Erasmus suggested mildly, taking a sip of his drink to hide the wolfish grin on his face. Bo turned his glare on his friend, who was trying not to laugh at the outrage the teen's face betrayed, but it was a losing battle and soon Erasmus was spluttering as the coffee went down the wrong way. Vengefully, Bo stole the last of Erasmus' strawberries as retribution while the mage was too busy choking on his drink with laughter to do anything about it, and the breakfast quickly dissolved into a back and forth of banter and stolen fruit, as bad feelings were eased, and Erasmus was put back into a good humour. Although he wouldn't say anything, he was glad to have company for lunch.
Soon enough it was time to go. Erasmus had spent most of the morning carefully taking in a jumpsuit of his so that it would fit Bo perfectly. He also changed the colour to the same dirty orange worn by Takeshi.
'It's the diplomatic colour, so you won't stand out too much,' explained Erasmus. Bo wanted to have blue like Erasmus or the same colour as Arty and Hayes, but Erasmus quickly informed him that those colours had to be earned, either by training in the army, or by academic achievement. Feeling uncomfortable with wearing the same colour as Takeshi, Bo initially refused to wear the jumpsuit, but after being told he could either wear it and go, or not wear it and not go, the teen reluctantly changed. Like his slave uniform, Erasmus had made the cloth very comfortable and clean. With a belt around his waist, even Bo could see that the jumpsuit looked good on him, and the orange colour suited his darker skin much better than it went with Takeshi's lighter skin tone. Thus placated, he grumblingly accepted the garments.
Bo swallowed his anxieties as he and Erasmus were joined by a larger group of desert mages in the hallways. Most of the mages were unknown to Bo, and Takeshi kept to the far edge of the group, speaking to someone Bo had never met before. Nevertheless, he was certain he could feel Takeshi's glare drilling into his back. Erasmus seemed much more at ease than his younger companion, introducing the boy to too many people to remember all of the names for, although Bo tried his best. He wasn't expected to make small talk, as everyone had more pressing matters on their minds, and technical details of the peace negotiations went right over the teen's head. What he did notice was that most of the desert people were women, which seemed strange. As soon as the group had gathered, they were escorted by a number of gold bangled slaves to a waiting area. Bo tried to keep his distance from the slaves, worried that they may be on the lookout for him. He anxiously tugged at his fingerless gloves, giving them a discrete check to make sure they were still covering his tattoo, and scar. He knew that there was very little chance that they would slip off, but it was better to be safe than sorry. As soon as the group was deemed to be large enough (there were still quite a few absentees, much to Takeshi's obvious irritation) the desert people walked in a casual procession towards the dining area, where talks were to be conducted. They were forced to wait outside a large set of double doors for a short period of time, until their attendance was confirmed by the official inside. During this time, Erasmus was busy speaking to one of his companions, and Bo took the opportunity to gaze at the double doors. They were built of a sturdy wood, with a number of battle scenes engraved onto them, and painted with such a sure hand that it was almost i
mpossible for Bo to restrain himself from running his fingers over the figures. The pictures reminded him of the stories that the old mage had told him in his youth, and he fancied he could even see some familiar scenes.
Soon enough the group was ushered into a large dinning area. Bo recognised it as the same one that he had spied on what seemed forever ago, and made a mental note not to have any wine, lest Will should have seen fit to replace it with vinegar. As before the room was a large rectangular area, with a long table running along the center. Now that he was closer, Bo could see that the table was made of thick hardwood that was polished so that the redish-gold grain looked like fire that had been caught in glass. Each chair was wooden, richly upholstered with soft leather, and there were already a great many papers, pens, blotters, and inkwells residing on the table, ready for a day of tedious work. High above were a number of chandeliers with the magic glowing orbs shedding light on everything below – enough to read and work by, but not too harsh. Dotted around the table there were a few chairs that were left unfilled, as a number of diplomats from both sides had failed to attend. Bo sat next to Erasmus, receiving a dirty look from both Takeshi, and the diplomat who had been supposed to take that particular seat. Feeling out of place, the the teen was about to jump up again when Erasmus grasped his arm, keeping him sitting.
'Don't worry there are plenty of empty seats for her. It won't do her any harm to sit somewhere new for today!' The quiet murmur of conversation was soon interrupted by a ripple of silence, emanating from one end of the room, and spreading out until all talk had been stifled.
'Stand for the entrance of King Samuel the Ninth, Master of The Castle of Middlefortress, and ruler of Redland! Defender of Justice, Duke of New-Sanae, Master of Fortunes, Keeper of --' proclaimed a herald shrilly, giving a surprised look as he was abruptly cut off by an impatient tap on his shoulder by the most glorious, many titled monarch himself. With an indignant 'hmph!' the herald stood to attention, and blew a few short notes on a trumpet that hung by his side. As one the lunch party stood, and a thickset man properly entered the room, stepping out from the doorway so that the gathered assembly might have a better view of him. It was almost too far away for Bo to properly make out the details of the heavy jewellery that the man wore. On each finger there was a ring of gold, silver, or some other colour. Many of them had large stones set in them. Around the man's neck there were three or four thick golden chains. His clothes, although thick and made of silk, were exquisitely tailored to show off the king's broad shoulders and beefy build, making him appear two times larger than the average person. With a smile that crept over his face and quickly off again, The King rumbled something low and official sounding, and sat down on his chair. Everyone else raised their voice in a clear 'Your Majesty!' before lowering themselves into their seats. Bo was glad that Erasmus' hand was resting on his shoulder to give him the cues to stand and sit. He'd be terribly embarrassed to be the last person still standing up. The King didn't so much as look at the desert people, instead leaning back on his chair and kicking his feet up onto the table (boots and all) he closed his eyes and put his hands behind his head. Bo glanced at Erasmus and saw the mage's jaw clenching and unclenching in silent fury. He was clearly unhappy at being treated this way when there was supposed to be a peace agreement being made.
For a good five or ten minutes the party sat silently. Most eyes were on The King who appeared to have dozed off. Bo's eyes glanced across, wondering if he could see the spyhole in the wall. It took him a moment to find it, but when he did the teen was surprised to see an eye peering back at him. Realising they had been spotted, the person in question quickly withdrew. Bo's eyes were wide with surprise, and he turned to whisper what he had seen to Erasmus, but at that moment The King sat up abruptly, opening his eyes and gracing the guests with a wide smile that was more genuine than the last he spoke in a deep rumbling bass,
'Okay let's do this thing! The sooner we do the talking, the sooner we get to the food. What do you say, eh fellas?' Bo's mouth dropped open at the informal tone used by his monarch. Here was the person who was supposed to be making sure the country was run well and was sworn to uphold the interests of his people to the best of his abilities. Under the table Erasmus clenched his fists before sitting back in his chair and closing his eyes to the group. The blue clad mage let out a small sigh as he tried to relax and get his mind on the task before him. Bo's eyes skimmed the room anxiously but no one seemed to have noticed Erasmus' behaviour, and indeed many seemed to have moved to private conversations. Only Takeshi, who was seated nearest The King of all the desert dwellers, was engaging in serious conversation with people from Bo's country. Pieces of paper were handed around the table at a furious rate. Erasmus received a piece of paper himself, and with a large frown stamped across his features, he wrote something on it, and sent it back, explaining as he did so that the minister for magical defence was asking his opinion on a number of conditions that had been introduced to the peace agreement only that morning.
'I had to advise him not to accept them!' whispered Erasmus, clearly mortified, 'It would mean that (essentially) your armies have free access to our lands without retaliation from us, and can camp there without informing us about it first, even bring in weapons if they so wished! Surely they know we couldn't accept that – so it must be a stalling tactic. I just don't see why they would want to drag these talks out for so long.' Erasmus turned back in time to receive another note, which seemed to require a very lengthy reply, leaving Bo to amuse himself. For the most part, he sat back and watched goings on. A lot of the talk he could hear went right over his head, but he could easily read the body language of everyone who was attending. Most of the desert mages seemed angry, while the courtiers were bored. The King was stamping things with a royal seal without even looking at them first, and occasionally sighing deeply and scratching a brief reply to people on small notes that were quickly sent out via message running servants. More than ever, Bo wanted to slip out and see if he could find whoever had been spying on proceedings, even though (in the end) it would probably only be Will. Restlessly Bo fidgeted in his seat, wishing that he could do more. He had known it would be boring but he had not realised exactly how boring, nor indeed how difficult it would be to escape once he was actually in the room. The teen had thought he would be fighting off Takeshi with one hand, and listening to insane debates between The King and the desert people, not sitting idly by while everyone passed notes around to each other about things he didn't understand. Another disappointment was that Lance, the insane mage, was among the absentees, apparently having shucked off his responsibilities to go fishing for trout in the bathhouse, and causing untold damage to a number of occupants who he insisted must be bears, before attempting to wrestle them to the ground (this was reported shortly after the meeting commenced, with The King forced to order some of his slaves to escort the elderly mage to his quarters if they could). After a good half hour of sitting around trying not to make anyone upset, Bo sighed loudly and leaned forward on his hands, wishing he'd stayed behind after-all. Moments later there came a subtle tap on his shoulder. Thinking Erasmus had something to say Bo turned to his companion, only to have a note hurriedly thrust into his face by someone from behind. Curious as to what could possibly be written to him, Bo opened up the letter.
'If you are bored then you are free to leave. I would understand completely, even if others would not.'
Very slowly Bo read what was in front of him. He got a little caught up with the word 'completely' but after a moment or two he understood. Wondering who could have sent him the message, the teen glanced up and looked around the table, trying to see if anyone was looking at him. The only person looking in his direction was Takeshi, who was glaring fiercely. Bo doubted Takeshi would 'understand his boredom completely' and so he was forced to admit that he didn't know who had sent the note. In the background the messenger did small jogging motions on the spot, until he caught himself at it and tried to stand still. It
was very distracting.
'If you want to go to the toilet, just go?' suggested Bo kindly. The man glared at him, and spoke in a clipped voice.
'I am waiting, sir, for a reply to hand back to your correspondent.' Bo blanked, not realising he would be expected to write. Hurriedly, he borrowed a pen and some paper from Erasmus while the mage was busy talking at someone, and slowly and carefully penned a note back, writing almost as slowly as Ruben in order to make his letters legible.
'I MVST BEE HERE TO MAKE SHVRE MY FREND DOES NOT GET DRVNK AGAYN.'
Bo stuck his tongue out of the side of his mouth to enhance his concentration, as he pressed the pen heavily against the parchment and considered each letter individually. The messenger by his shoulder fidgeted restlessly, impatient to take the reply back. Eventually Bo handed over the note somewhat reluctantly, not knowing if it was appropriate or not, but before he could change his mind the messenger snatched the piece of paper and hurried away into the general bustle of other messengers. Bo quickly lost sight of them. After a very short time, the messenger was back with a new note. It read:
'It must be a good friend of yours for you to sit through so much talking. I am here for the lunch as well.'
Bo grinned at the note. Whoever it was, they were in the same boat as him. Feeling at ease, the teen wrote another reply, and soon enough he had fallen into a conversation with whoever it was. Bo still tried to see if anyone was looking his way, but it was only ever Takeshi, who did not have a companionable expression on his face. In fact, the more Bo looked at Takeshi, the angrier the man seemed to get, until at one point Bo thought that if the man's expression became any more enraged that there would be steam pouring from his mouth, nose and ears in jets.
If Erasmus noticed that Bo was suddenly enjoying himself a lot more, he didn't say anything – nor did he remark on his missing pen and paper, as he had at least three sets of spare pens, and more paper than he could use in a full night of study. Another note arrived, shoved into Bo's face just as rudely as the first, and every subsequent note.
'Is your friend the one sitting next to you who is doing all of the talking?'
'YES. HE LYKES THE SOVND OF HIS OVVN VOYCE. THEES TALKS AR GETTING NOTHING DUN.'
Bo hid this note from Erasmus as he wrote it, paranoid that the mage would look over the teen's shoulder and know that Bo was making fun of him. The note that came back expressed a similar distaste for proceedings, that reflected Bo's own floccinaucinihilipilification of the peace negotiations.
'I think it is because too many people like the sound of their own voice. There is too much talking and not enough thinking.'
'MAY BEE THERE IS TO MVCH TALKING & NOT EENVFF LVNCHING.'
Suggested Bo, his stomach growling as he handed the note over to the messenger, who by this time had given up hoping that the teen would write quickly. A moment later there was a shout of laughter from somewhere up the table. Most people who were nearby paused mid-conversation to wonder at what could have amused The King quite so much, but before anyone could enquire the man stood in his place and hushed all talk.
'We're having lunch early. These negotiations are over for the day.' Just as abruptly, The King sat down again and handed the remaining pile of paperwork to one of his slaves. Bo stared at the King, a horrible conclusion forming in his head. Had he been having a very frank discussion with the King? King Samuel turned and winked at Bo, so quickly the teen might have missed it, were he not staring at his monarch with horror. It seemed to confirm his worst fears.
'Bother!' the boy hissed under his breath. Erasmus turned to frown at the teen,
'What's wrong?' Bo shook his head, unwilling to say that he'd just been telling The King that the peace talks weren't getting anything done, and that they might as well have lunch. Erasmus patted Bo's arm reassuringly, 'well as long as you keep a low profile – you wouldn't want anyone to recognise you, so don't draw attention to yourself, okay?' Bo nodded numbly. Glancing over at Takeshi, he noted that the man was still glaring daggers at him.
Sooner than Bo had thought possible, lunch was served. Bo kept his head down and his gaze averted from the slaves who brought it in, worried that one of them might recognise him. The slaves, however, were far too busy with serving their King and his guests to go looking deeply into the face of every person there, and they were all silver collars who would probably have had minimal contact with the lower brass collars. There were platters of meats, both hot, cold, sweet and savoury. The aromas of the fresh cooked flesh wafted invitingly over the table, and even those who were slightly put out about having to cease discussion so soon were happy to pile their plates high with the food. There were salads and side dishes, soups and breads, and everything was fresh from the kitchen, made with only the finest the pantry had to offer. Despite his guilt at having been communicating with the King, Bo grinned widely, selecting a small piece of everything and anything that was passed by him. His plate included a number of roasted nuts dipped in honey, fried vegetables, a cold noodle salad that had a surprisingly tangy flavour, two small pieces of steak (one heavily marinated), a poached egg, some fish with a white sauce that tasted of garlic, and a wild herb salad that was garnished only with ingredients that could be found 'out in the wild.' He would have taken more but Erasmus gave him the look that said 'you're being greedy.' Pouting slightly, but not wishing to make a scene in front of all the important people, and the King, Bo quickly stopped taking from the platters that went by. Instead he merely gazed longingly at them, until Erasmus sighed in defeat. The last item that Bo snagged for his plate was a pickle, which he had cultivated a fondness for.
After that the teen set about consuming the food he had picked out, working away at it doggedly – determined to eat it all. Erasmus, who had taken far less, ate at a more respectable pace, leaving time between mouthfuls to talk to Bo and the other people he knew. Takeshi's glare never left Bo, and it was somewhat disconcerting to see it whenever he looked up from his meal. By about the halfway point, Bo was starting to feel full, and by the end he thought he'd probably have to roll back to his room as he was so very stuffed. Sitting back in his seat, the teen patted his stomach with satisfaction, beaming at Erasmus as if to say 'see I fit it all in.' For his part the older mage simply looked amused despite his horror at Bo's enormous appetite. It was then that the slaves brought in an after lunch, sweets course. Bo made a whining noise in the back of his throat at the sight of so much tasty food that he knew he wouldn't be able to even sample. Erasmus laughed, seeing the difficult position his friend was in, before accepting a large bowl full of raspberry cheesecake and cream, which he ate with delicate relish.
'You could have told me there would be dessert!' grumbled Bo sadly, watching as trays of strange and wonderful treats passed him by. Erasmus merely shook his head.
'Perhaps next time you should not eat until you are quite so full?' Bo merely groaned at this comment and forced down a small chocolate. After an almost unbearably long time the table was cleared, and it was time to leave. The King stood, to the usual pomp and ceremony, and was the first out of the doors, while his courtiers and guests trailed behind. Thankfully Erasmus had been careful not to drink too much this time, and when everyone was allowed to leave, he had no trouble walking himself to the door.
'Ah I just need to have a quick chat with one of my fellow mages, it's nothing very interesting, so could you wait here? I'll be back in a few short seconds!' Erasmus practically dived on another person clad in blue who did not seem to want to stop to talk (if anything she looked like she was trying to escape), forcing Erasmus to keep up if he wished to speak. Soon enough the two had disappeared down the corridor, leaving Bo at the entryway to the dining area. He sighed heavily, starting to wish he hadn't eaten quite so much when a heavy hand fell on his shoulder. With a start he tried to turn but the hand held him tight, and dragged him back into the dining hall where no one else would see what was going on.
'Mind telling me what you were saying to King Samuel?
' growled a familiar voice. Bo scowled.
'It's none of your business Takeshi! Let go of me! Erasmus will be back soon.' Takeshi's grip tightened painfully, as the man hissed his anger.
'Why does Erasmus like you so much? What makes you so special that The King answers your messages?' Bo grabbed at Takeshi's hand, and kicked backwards as Alexander had shown him before twisting the captured appendage in a painful hand-lock. Having pried Takeshi loose he sent the man stumbling backwards with gentle nudge to the hand he was holding. With a few muttered words, Takeshi untied a loosely knotted string around his wrist, and with magically boosted strength he came back at Bo, slamming the teen against the wall and holding him around the throat. Takeshi's breath was tainted by the smell of wine as he leaned in close to whisper, 'everything was going fine until you came along. I tried to find out what Erasmus sees in you, but his journal is full of stupid magic notes, so maybe I should just find out for myself why he likes you so much?' Bo struggled, unable to protest with Takeshi's strong grip closing off his airway. Not even sure what the threat was supposed to mean, the teen feared the worst, when the doors of the hallway blasted open. They crashed noisily against the walls, having been kicked in by what looked suspiciously like a horse.
'Tally HOOOOOOOOOOO!' howled the rider, waving their arms about energetically. Shocked at the intrusion, Takeshi froze up. Bo squinted, nearly blinded by the flashes of light reflecting from the highly polished armour that cavorted some distance away. With more wild shouts, the rider of the horse rode right over the table, heedless of the damage he was causing, before scooping Takeshi up by the scruff of his clothes. Frightened by being handled in such a way, Takeshi lost his grip on Bo as he was hoisted high into the air. Even with his magical strength, the desert man was unable to free himself, and looked almost like a worm squirming on a fishing hook. When Bo managed to wipe the spots out of his vision, and catch his breath, he found a confused looking Sir Lance Fair peering into Takeshi's face from a mere centimetre away.
'You,' he began, giving a short pause for emphasis, 'are a flea. Now go find a dog's backside to kiss, hop it!' With that he released the desert mage who began to hop up and down on one leg. Looking frightened and more than a little angry, Takeshi was forced to literally hop away – Bo presumed it was due to a spell cast by Sir Lance Fair, although the elderly mage had used no stimulus, just like Erasmus. The mad mage turned his gaze on Bo, and the teen was startled to see just how pale the man's eyes were, and was strongly reminded of Will for a few seconds. With a grin, Lance spun about on his saddle until he was facing the wrong way.
'I'm on a horse,' he announced proudly. Bo had nothing to say to that, and wasn't given the opportunity to respond in any case. Lance leaned over backwards until he was eye to eye with Bo. 'Why are you so special? Why are you so special? Why are you so special?' Bo swallowed, wondering why everyone was asking him this all of a sudden.
'I'm not – really,' he replied, respectful of Lance's power and station. There was a momentary gleam in Lance's eye, and an inscrutable expression passed over his face.
'That is the CORRECT answer! You aren't special. Never have been, never will be!' abruptly Lance's jubilation fell from his countenance and he addressed Bo in grave tones. 'Stay away from magic – it'll drive you insane boy-o, and I should know! All of my friends are insane. All that power isn't good for you. If you can mould the truth how do you know what is really true any more? If I weren't such a well grounded person that kind of thing might have driven me crazy. How do I know I didn't just dream you up one day?' Lance paused, frowning. It seemed like he was more talking to himself now than anyone else. His eyes had drooped as he mumbled to himself, but suddenly they snapped open as he came back to life. 'THERE HAS BEEN A MISTAKE!' he cried, before sitting back up in his saddle and riding the horse out of the room, abruptly cutting off the conversation. Bo winced as the elderly mage banged his head on the door frame on his way out. 'Stay safffeeeeeee!' Lance called over his shoulder, the clatter of his ghostly steed's hooves were the only sign of the mage by the time Bo exited the dining hall. Luckily Erasmus had come back by that time and was looking anxious.
'I saw Lance riding around here – we should get back to my room before he accosts us. Are you okay? You look like you've had the wits frightened out of you,' asked Erasmus, clearly concerned. The teen shook his head, promising to explain all when they got back to their rooms.