If it went off while stored in the limnthal, he wasn’t sure what would happen, but his best guess was that everything he had stored within the limnthal’s extradimensional space would be burnt to cinders. His gold was in there, along with his weapons and other sundries, but he worried most about the expensive cuts of beef and lamb. Losing so much valuable meat would be devastating. He held up a hand as though asking the others to wait. “I’ll be right back.”
Tiny followed him as he re-crossed the street and retrieved his boot. Once Will was reshod, he used the butt of Tiny’s fallen spear to nudge the various vampire parts into a pile. The task was easier than he had expected since most of them had been gradually wiggling themselves closer together before his intervention.
Initially he had meant to simply resummon the alchemical firebomb and let it handle the incineration for him, but as he watched the wriggling mass of vampire parts, another idea came to him. Back when his grandfather had been educating him on the finer points of troll regeneration (and reproduction), the old man had told him that troll parts would fuse together. Will wondered if the vampire pieces would do the same. Or will they somehow differentiate and separate themselves? Will we wind up with two new, mixed-together vampires, or one larger, mixed-up vampire, or just the two individuals that we started with?
“Will, what are you doing?” asked Tiny, nudging his elbow.
“I’m waiting to see if they mix together or separate into the original creatures,” said Will absently.
“Shouldn’t we burn them?”
“I will, just give me a minute. We may never get a chance to observe something like this again.”
“I’m going to have nightmares for months,” complained his friend. “In my ideal world, I would never see anything remotely like this ever again.” His eyes fixed on the body parts. “They keep moving, ugh.”
Will heard a strange noise from Tiny’s throat. “Are you all right?”
Tiny gagged. “It’s the smell. I think I’m going to lose my supper.”
He scowled at the big warrior. “Don’t you dare. That meal was a work of art. Go stand a little farther away if it bothers you too much. The smell will be worse when it starts burning.” Will still had vivid memories of the stench of burning flesh from when he had set fire to the enemy camp in Barrowden. It wasn’t the sort of thing one forgot, but fortunately he didn’t have a sensitive gag reflex.
Despite his warning, he heard Tiny begin to retch into one of the ornamental bushes planted in the exquisitely maintained garden. Will kept his attention on the pile of flesh in front of him. It’s definitely separating, he observed. The parts can tell the difference between self and other.
The movements were slower as well, as though the vampiric flesh was beginning to run out of energy, like a clockwork music box whose spring was winding down. It wasn’t too surprising. They were trying to heal from a massive trauma, and almost all their vital fluids had spilled out. Would they eventually die without nourishment, as the fae did if cut off from Faerie? He had too many questions.
Will activated the limnthal and asked the ring a question. “Do you think it’s safe to store a pile of vampire flesh inside the limnthal?”
For once, Arrogan didn’t immediately respond with sarcasm. In fact, the ring took several seconds to process what Will had said before it answered. “So many questions. I’m assuming you need a quick decision?”
“Yes,” said Will. “I’m not in a safe place.”
“If you still have some of the clay jars in there, one of the big ones that I kept water in should do. Dump it out, put your, uh—sample inside. Be careful, though. If you’re injured or have cuts don’t let any of the vital fluids get on your skin. If it mixes with your blood, you’ll have a whole new set of problems. Seal the top with a heavy piece of cloth and tie it tightly around the neck. If any light gets inside it will destroy your vampire.”
“It’s dark out right now.”
“Not here, moron. Inside the limnthal. It might be daytime in there.”
That brought a dozen more questions into his head, but there wasn’t time. “You said the blood is dangerous. I didn’t get cut or bitten this time, but suppose I do—is there a treatment?”
“Sure. Tell your friends to leave you out for the next sunrise, then put a knife in your heart. That will keep you still until the sun comes up. It takes a few days before you start regenerating the way they do.”
“Anything less fatal?”
“A blood-cleanse potion will work, but only if given within an hour or so. After that, it will just make you feel sick before you finish transforming into an unholy abomination. It’s a good idea to keep a few of them with you as long as you’re dealing with the undead.”
Will nodded out of habit. The ring couldn’t see his expressions or movements. He actually had several dozen blood-cleanse potions stored inside the limnthal already. He’d made most of his money selling them to the school, and when they’d no longer wanted to buy them, he’d been stuck with the surplus. “How long do you think it will be safe in there? I don’t want to summon it out and have a fully functioning vampire at my throat.”
“If you’ve fully exsanguinated the creature it will heal very slowly. Hell, it might not even finish unless you pour some fresh blood on it. Add to that the fact that time inside the limnthal is a thousand times slower and I would think that you should be safe even if you wait a week or longer.”
“All right. I’d better get to work then,” said Will. Following Arrogan’s advice, he summoned the big water jar and dumped it out. Then he used the butt of the spear to shepherd one of the now-separate piles of vampire pieces into it. That done, he stood the jar up and used one of his spare school tunics to cover the top before tying it shut. He sent the jar back into storage and then took a few steps back from the remaining flesh pile. With a thought, he summoned the alchemical firebomb and tossed it at the pile before moving even farther back.
“Watch out,” he cautioned Tiny, who started to step forward, curious as to what he was doing. “It’s about to—”
“Damn it!” yelled the big man. He was far enough back to be safe, but the sudden eruption of flames had startled him. “Warn me next time!”
“—burst into flames,” finished Will, giggling with nervous laughter. The macabre events were beginning to take a toll on his nerves.
Chapter 17
There was a strange scene unfolding at the Nerrow house as Will and Tiny returned to check on Darla and the baron. Agnes was back at the front door, this time joined by both Laina and Tabitha. All three of them had tear-stained cheeks.
Darla knelt on the path from the door to the gate, her head bowed, while Mark Nerrow stood over her, his sword raised as he prepared to strike. Arrogan’s advice was still fresh on Will’s mind, and he realized immediately what must be happening. “Wait!” he yelled.
The sword came down in a blurring arc but stopped when it met Will’s point-defense shield just above the Arkeshi’s bare neck. The baron turned to face them as they entered the yard, a look of fury on his face, as well as a few tears of his own. “Stay out of this, William. You don’t know what we’re dealing with.”
“The hell I don’t,” snapped Will. “She can be saved.” As his eyes studied Darla, he saw a nasty cut that ran from the woman’s forearm to the back of her right hand. Ugly black veins stood out around the wound.
“There is no cure for the poison of the Drak’shar,” intoned the stone-faced assassin, slowly drawing her own blade. “The Arkeshi know this better than any still living.”
It was obvious she intended to finish the job herself. Will glanced at Tiny and cut his eyes to the left, indicating the big man should try to flank Laina’s bodyguard, then he focused his attention on Darla. “Then your teachers need to do some research. Alchemy has long been able to cure the disease, if the curative is given quickly enough.”
“William, you need to leave her be. The king’s instructions were very clear, and Darla agr
ees with them as well,” warned the baron. His eyes were watching Will’s hands, where a new spell was forming. Though his words seemed to agree with Darla, there was an undertone of uncertainty in his voice, or perhaps hope.
Darla could see what Tiny was trying to do, and she began edging to one side, keeping her knife between herself and the massive warrior while she worked up her nerve to reverse the blade and put an end to her life.
Just wait a few seconds longer, thought Will as the spell came together. Then it was ready. Something in his posture must have given him away, for Darla flipped her dagger and made to drive it home. Tiny lunged, trying to catch her wrist, but she was too quick and dodged to one side—before slowly slumping to the ground as Will’s sleep spell took hold.
Will looked at his father, who hadn’t tried to interfere. “You believed me?”
“I just don’t want to kill her. My gut tells me you’re offering a fool’s hope, but I’ll take it. If whatever you’ve got doesn’t work, then I’ll still have to—” Mark Nerrow made a reluctant chopping gesture with his sword.
“A blood-cleanse potion can stop the change, if it’s given within an hour,” explained Will.
“And you learned this where?” asked his father.
“From someone who actually fought these things the last time they crawled out of the shadows. Can we take her inside?”
Tiny stepped up and lifted the Arkeshi. Darla’s small frame made her look like a doll in the giant warrior’s arms. The baron nodded toward the door. “Let’s take her to the front parlor.”
The entire Nerrow family followed them in, and Agnes eventually began shooing her daughters away to make room. Only so many people could help with one unconscious woman.
“We’ll need to wake her up to be sure she swallows the potion properly,” said Will.
The baron nodded. “Then you’ll want her bound.”
Agnes turned to her youngest. “Tabitha, run upstairs and bring down the spare sheets. We’ll bind her wrists and ankles with those.”
Her husband frowned at the thought of cutting up the fine linens. “We have some rope in—”
The baroness cut him off. “She’s less likely to hurt herself if she struggles.”
“But…”
Agnes glared. “She’s more than just a servant.”
Will stayed out of the argument, and in a few minutes a large bedsheet was brought down and cut into wide strips. Will’s father tied Darla into a cushioned chair while Tiny helped position the unconscious woman.
“Don’t you need to fetch the potion?” asked the baron as they finished.
He had already taken a moment to step aside and summon the blood-cleanse potion from the limnthal while the others were occupied. Will held it up for the baron to see. “I have it here.”
Mark Nerrow frowned. “You had that with you the whole time?”
Will allowed himself a smug look, hoping he seemed mysterious. “Apparently I did. Let’s wake her up.”
The sleep spell would ordinarily keep a person in a deep slumber for several hours, but it wasn’t an enforced sleep. Enough stimulation could eventually rouse someone, especially if the person applying it was as determined as Laina was. Darla’s eyes opened after a few minutes and slowly focused on her friend. Then the Arkeshi jerked slightly as she attempted to move, quickly discovering her bonds. “You can’t keep me like this,” insisted the former assassin. “You know that.”
Laina won the patient over with her usual brusque charm. “Shut up and drink this.” She took the potion from Will’s hand and unstopped it before holding it up to Darla’s lips.
Darla twisted her head away. “What is it?”
Laina’s tone grew hard. “Have you ever disobeyed me before?”
“No, mistress.”
“Drink,” commanded Laina once again. This time Darla acquiesced, grimacing slightly at the taste.
Will took the empty vial from Laina’s hand and dribbled the last remaining drops onto Darla’s wound before using a spare piece of the now-shredded bedsheet to work it into the cut. The Arkeshi made no sound, but he could tell it hurt her by the way her muscles tensed as the cloth moved over the injured skin. Once he was sure he had rubbed in the last of the potion, he took another strip and neatly wrapped her forearm and hand with a bandage.
Darla hadn’t said a word, but she finally spoke. “We need to see the wound to tell if it’s working.”
He nodded. “It will work, but we’ll check it every hour until we’re sure you’re better.” Will headed for the door.
“Where are you going?” asked Agnes, a look of alarm on her face. “It’s still dark out.”
Will glanced quickly at Darla. “Your sentry needs rest until she heals. Tiny and I will sit outside until dawn arrives.” His eyes stopped on Mark Nerrow for a split second as a bitter thought came to him. I wouldn’t want to wear out my welcome, after all.
There were only four hours left until dawn, hours that were made more pleasant when the baroness brought out a silver platter with sweet biscuits and hot tea. They enjoyed the refreshments, and Will studied the silver utensils. He needed to buy some silver and see the weaponsmith soon.
When the sun finally began to show on the horizon, Will knocked on the door before leaving. Tabitha answered, as apparently the others had finally fallen asleep from nervous exhaustion. As always, Will was struck by the warmth on his younger sister’s face. Her hair was tangled and her eyes puffy, but there was a spark of positivity in her that refused to be dampened by circumstances.
She squinted at the sunlight that was beginning to peak over the rooftops. “Sun’s up. You should come inside and rest.” Then she grinned. “Unless you’d prefer to cook breakfast first?”
Tabitha and Sammy would make great friends, thought Will. They’re so similar. He shook his head, though he wished he could accept her offer. “No, I need to get back home. I have lots to do. Here.” He held out five blood-cleanse potions he had summoned from the limnthal before knocking. “Take these, in case anyone else gets injured.”
“What if you need them?” she asked.
The door opened wider then, as Mark Nerrow stepped up behind his daughter. “Take them in and put them in the kitchen, Tabitha.” He waited until the young woman was gone before addressing Will directly. “Thank you for the gift, though I can’t help wondering. You haven’t left and I’m certain you only had the one potion last night.”
“Perhaps if sorcerers spent more time studying magic and less time looking down on wizards, they’d still know how such things are done,” Will retorted, his irritation coming fully to the surface.
The baron ignored his tone. “I’ve known and studied with quite a few wizards. I was a student at Wurthaven myself once upon a time.”
“And yet you’re still wrong. I’m the first you’ve ever met.” Turning away, he looked at Tiny. “Let’s go.”
“William, I know I was a little harsh last time we spoke, but—” began the baron.
Will cut him off. “Don’t worry. We’ll be back tonight, when it’s dark and no one will see me. That way you won’t be embarrassed.”
As he started walking, he heard Tabitha’s voice from inside. “He’s leaving? What were you talking about? Did he say embarrassed?”
***
Tiny was silent most of the way back, lost in his own thoughts, but eventually he spoke. “You were very rude to the baron.”
“I get stupid when I’m tired,” said Will. “He deserved it, though.”
“It’s never wise to make enemies out of noblemen, Will.”
Half a chuckle escaped before Will replied, “Did you notice he didn’t respond? He just let me walk away. There’s a reason for that. You don’t need to worry. He may not be a friend, but he’ll never be an enemy.” Silently he added, I hope.
“Does this have anything to do with the count you killed? Are they afraid of you?”
“You heard the rumors?”
“I’m pretty sure that even t
he wild men of Barsta have heard about it by now.”
Will stopped. “I didn’t kill Lord Spry, I killed his son. Selene killed the earl—at their wedding.”
The squire gaped at him, then finally closed his mouth. “I heard a version like that, but I dismissed it as unbelievable.”
Will nodded. “I’m sure none of the tales come close to the full absurdity of that day.”
“Some of them claim you died, and the high priest prayed until Temarah interceded and raised you from the dead,” said Tiny tentatively.
They were finally home, and Will laughed as they walked through the door. “No, that one is completely wrong.”
Tiny laughed along with him, releasing his hidden tension. “That would be impossible, right?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say impossible,” said Will carefully. “I did die, for a little while. But it wasn’t the priest or Temarah that brought me back. I took care of that myself. I may have met the Mother, though. I had a weird vision while I was being whipped the other day, but I’m not sure. I might have been hallucinating from the pain.”
Tiny stared at him quietly, then replied, “We need to have a long talk.”
Will nodded in agreement. “We do, but can we wait until after we’ve bathed and slept?”
Blake stepped through the door at the end of the hall. “Would you like me to heat some water for you, squire? We have a large tub in the back.”
The big warrior nodded at his host. “After your master has bathed. I wouldn’t dream of being first.”
“Go ahead,” offered Will. He planned to forgo the pleasure of hot water and use a spell to save time. Exhaustion weighed heavily on him, and every minute away from his pillow was a minute he wouldn’t have to rest later. “I’ll take care of myself, Blake. Don’t wake me.” With that, he headed for the stairs. He paused with his foot on the first step.
Scholar of Magic Page 18