Eventide (Meratis Trilogy Book 2)
Page 26
“Brady, it’s Maggie. Jasmine’s here too, and Jeff. Open the door.”
No reply.
“Brady, let’s go. I know you’re probably right on the cusp of a long chat with Talfyr, but we have a bit of an emergency and need to access your books.”
Still nothing.
Jeff took up the task and brought his fist down against the wood. Then he tried three more times.
“I don’t understand,” he said. “It worked last time.”
“Maybe he’s gone further into the trance,” said Maggie. “I’ll try something else.”
She took a deep breath and lowered her hands, palms level with the ground. Then she braced herself and ran into the door, breaking through the lock.
Jeff and Jasmine exchanged a look of surprise before they turned their attention to the library.
After the effort to get in, at first glance it didn’t look like anyone was home, Brady was nowhere to be seen, and the candle on the desk had burned out, the remaining wick a blackened husk.
They moved further into the room, Jeff heading towards the windows to make sure they were secured, and that Brady hadn’t done anything stupid.
On his way past, he caught a shadow on the floor. He opened the curtains to let in the fading twilight, the faint glow spilling across the room, revealing Brady’s unconscious body.
“Oh gods,” Jasmine gasped and ran around to the other side of the desk, throwing herself down to brush his hair out of his face, resting her ear against his mouth. “Brady, what did you do?”
Jeff stared down in shock, his mind going automatically to the image of Harold’s dead corpse. He feared the worst, but every now and again—though not as often as it should have—Brady’s chest rose and fell.
“I thought you said the ritual trance wasn’t dangerous,” Jeff said to Maggie.
“The research says it’s not! I did look into it, just like I promised you I would, and nowhere does it mention fainting as a side-effect.”
Jasmine gave Brady’s shoulders a shake, but the man didn’t move, his head lolling to the side. “Maggie, I don’t think he fainted.” She sounded frantic, her voice more shaken now than it had been at the sight of the dragon a stone’s throw away.
Jeff got closer, kneeling down to check Brady’s pulse. Weak and sporadic.
Maggie shooed him away, snapping her fingers next to Brady’s ears. No response. She opened his eyelids and blew gently, but he didn’t blink.
“Not good,” she said.
“Is it a coma?” Jeff asked. “Did he hit his head falling down?”
He ran his fingers around Brady’s skull, but there was no blood, no apparent injuries.
“Wake him up, Maggie. Please? Can you?” Jasmine asked, still shaking Brady’s shoulders.
Maggie reached for her hands and pulled them off him. “I’ll do what I can, pet, but I don’t know what he’s done. His mind may be stuck in the trance, in which case we can’t bring him out of it too suddenly or the shock might hurt him.”
“Then what do we do?”
Maggie chewed on her lip, blue eyes filled with worry. “Jeff, help me get him up and on the sofa. May as well start by getting him comfortable.”
Jeff slid his hands under Brady’s shoulders while Maggie grabbed his feet, and together they lifted him and shuffled over to set him down on the burgundy sofa, the task easy thanks to Brady’s recent fasting.
As her hands brushed Brady’s bare skin, Maggie jerked away as if she’d gotten a shock.
“What was that?” she asked, rubbing her fingers together.
“What?” Jeff asked.
She took Jeff’s hand and rested it on Brady’s arm. “Don’t you feel that? Hear it?”
Jeff closed his eyes and listened, but he could feel nothing except the cold, dry skin beneath his. He shook his head.
Maggie’s blue eyes focused on Brady, her initial concern morphing into outright fear.
“It’s not possible,” she murmured, running her hands down Brady’s arms and under his shirt over his chest. Her eyes closed and her lips moved with silent words.
Jeff sat back on his heels and looked at Jasmine, who watched her friend from the easy chair with rapt attention, her gaze flicking towards Brady every couple of seconds to see if Maggie’s gestures caused any change.
“Oh no. Oh no, oh no,” Maggie moaned. The air tingled with a sudden electricity that ran over Jeff’s skin, and then she dropped her elbows onto the cushions next to the scholar and buried her face in her hands.
“Maggie, what’s going on?”
“I’m such an idiot,” the enchantress said. “But how could I know? I doubt if even he knew.”
The more she talked to herself, the more Jeff saw the growing impatience on Jasmine’s face. To stop her from lashing out, he stepped in, taking Maggie’s hand in his. “Maggie, tell us what’s wrong.”
“It’s not the dragon. It’s Raul!” she wailed. “The spell, the Kemisan spell.”
Jeff felt his face scrunch up in confusion. “Brady’s not an enchanter, why would the spell affect him?”
“It goes after the talent, Jeff, the innate ability. Brady must have latent magic no one knew about.”
“So what does this mean?” Jasmine asked. “Can’t you cast the same spell you cast on yourself? Put a guard around him?”
Maggie nodded and wiped the tears from her eyes. “I can try, but ….” She sniffled. “Honey, it might be too late. I don’t know if we can bring him back.”
Jeff wished he could be strong and support Jasmine, but his own shock was too great. He could only share her expression of silent awe, as though believing that if they stared long enough at Maggie, she would take back what she said. But she only continued to shed her tears and pat Brady’s hand. Over the last twenty-four hours, the scholar’s skin had gone from white to grey; his cheeks appeared sunken. His lips were chapped and raw, his hair lank and greasy. Jeff thought of Brady’s dizzy spell in the tower, realised how similar it had been to Maggie’s in the Haunt. It grew harder to doubt her theory.
A gentle knock rapped the door, and Jeff and Maggie turned towards it, Jasmine sinking to the floor to take Brady’s hand.
Venn stood in the doorway, her black outfit looking newer and blacker, courtesy of the Feldall servants. “I heard yelling.”
Maggie stood, wiping tears from her face, and then she straightened her skirts and smoothed her hair, made sure her corset was aligned properly. Gestures of someone who didn’t know what they should do.
“I have to get the books for the spell,” she said aloud, as if saying it grounded her. “And then I’ll get Jayden. He should know. You’ll watch ….”
She gestured her head towards Jasmine, and Jeff nodded. With a slow exhale, she hurried from the room, Venn coming slowly into it.
“What happened?” she asked, keeping her voice low so only Jeff could hear, although she could have yelled and he doubted Jasmine would have noticed.
“We think Raul’s got his claws in him. Maggie’s not sure if he’s going to make it.” His voice hitched as he said the words aloud. He didn’t want to believe it.
“I’m sorry,” Venn said, with genuine sympathy. “He means a great deal to you both?”
“Yes, he really does.”
“Even more the pity then.” She wandered closer to the nearest table and flipped open one of the many books on top, rolling through the pages at random. It looked like she was building up to a question, so Jeff stayed quiet, keeping an eye on Jasmine, who was brushing Brady’s hair out of his face. He wanted to go over there and be with his friend, but knew he had to give Jasmine this moment.
“Did you …” Venn started, and he shifted his focus back to her. “Did you find anything? At Treevale?”
Jeff stared at her eyes, but she kept her gaze intent on the book. “I didn’t see anything of your sister’s, Venn. She’s gone, and I think anything left of her is buried under more rock than we’ll ever be able to move.”
V
enn forced a nod, her larynx bobbing as she swallowed. “I understand. I didn’t expect—I just thought I’d ask.”
Jeff struggled with whether or not to give the woman a hug when Jayden and Cassie rushed into the room, stopping abruptly when they saw Brady on the sofa.
“It’s true? He’s dying?” Jayden asked, tact forgotten in his concern.
“He is not dying,” Jasmine argued, keeping her back to the room.
Jayden chewed on his lip and approached his sister. He rested his hand on her shoulder. “No, you’re right. I’m sorry.”
At her brother’s display of kindness, Jasmine’s defenses slipped, and she lowered her head to Brady’s hand as her shoulders shook with heavy sobs. Jayden looked to Jeff in amazement, not sure how to react.
Cassie stepped in and sank down beside Jasmine, wrapping her arms around her.
Free from his burden, the warrior went over to Jeff. “Maggie mentioned Raul? I couldn’t really understand the rest because she was trying not to cry.”
“We’re all surprised. It turns out Brady must have a magical side no one knew about. Raul’s been draining him all this time, like with Maggie.”
Venn pressed her lips together, focusing harder—if possible—on her book.
Jayden picked at the hawk crest on his chest. “Maggie said the spell was general, over an area, not directed at anyone specifically. Do you think Raul knows?”
“About Brady? I think he suspected. It makes sense now, why he’s always been so keen on getting him on his side. He used to mentor him, for fuck’s sake, he must have seen something that caught his interest.”
“Shit.” Jayden sighed. “And here we thought we had this all under control.”
“I hate to say it, but it gets worse.”
The warrior’s jaw flexed as he ground his teeth. “Tell me.”
“Harold’s dead.”
That drew Venn’s attention away from her book, and both she and Jayden stared at Jeff with blank expressions. Neither them of them spoke, but their silent questions battered Jeff until he didn’t know where to begin.
“I tripped over his body. A half-assed attempt to bury him under the bridge in the courtyard. He’s dead, but he’s not the one that tried to kill Venn.”
“Fuck!” Jayden yelled, making Jasmine and Cassie jump. “I can’t keep anything straight. Wasn’t he the one behind the conspiracy?”
“Apparently not. Someone else must be wearing the black bear of Basten.”
“Black bear?” Venn asked.
“Yeah, the bear. The sigil. The image that you saw on the shield.”
Venn shook her head slowly, looking from Jeff to Jayden and back. “It wasn’t a black bear. It was a grizzly. Up on its hind legs.”
Jeff balked at the blatant miscommunication, clapping his hand to his forehead. Jayden’s lip pulled back in a snarl and he wheeled towards the door.
“Dorning!” he growled, striding at such a fast pace that both Jeff and Venn had to jog to keep up. “Where is he?”
“I haven’t seen him since this morning, when he volunteered to go to Treevale.”
“And take me with him,” Venn added, her face pale as she realised how close she’d been to another murder attempt.
“How could we have missed it?” Jayden yelled. “In front of us this whole fucking time.”
“And the rats run free,” Jeff said under his breath, the second piece of the Sisters’ puzzle fitting into place. Again too late.
The servant assigned to the Dornings’ rooms passed by, and Jayden made a grab for his collar. “The queen’s soldiers, where are they?”
“I-I don’t know, my Lord,” the man sputtered, not used to his master’s rough handling. “I think I saw them leave a few hours ago.”
Jayden released him. “Take a message to the guards, I want them on full watch in case they try to come back. Understood?”
“Yes, my Lord.” The servant hurried away, and Jayden continued to Darcy’s room.
The bed hadn’t been made, borrowed clothes strewn about the room, and laundry still waiting to be picked up. It was damp, as if Darcy had tried to wash it out and failed.
“It was him,” said Venn, picking up the bloody shirt and stretching it out. Droplets, smears, and spray covered the white cotton from neck to sleeve.
“Then he dies,” Jayden stated, like it was the easiest decision in the world.
Rage battled Jeff’s grief for Brady, furious that Michael had stood there, worried about Jasmine, when his own son had almost killed her.
They moved from Darcy’s room to Michael’s, but the only thing he had left behind was Harold’s dagger, still covered in blood, in the bottom of the wardrobe.
Jeff sifted through their brief acquaintance with the men, trying to pick out anything they might have said or done to give themselves away. A few choice words, in retrospect, but nothing that would have tipped Jeff off. Their plan would probably have succeeded if it hadn’t been for Venn. “They never wanted to bring you here,” he said to her. “At the time I thought they just didn’t want the extra burden, but really they were worried you’d recognise them.”
“What do you think they wanted?” she asked.
Jeff couldn’t begin to imagine what their goal had been. Keeping an eye on Feldall to see how close they were to finding Raul? Making sure they were out of dodge when the shit hit the fan back at the palace?
The servant Jayden had sent to the guards returned, out of breath. “The stableboy confirmed it, my Lord. The two soldiers rode out of here shortly after Lady Jasmine and the Creator. They didn’t say where they were going.”
“Great, now we’ve lost them, too.”
“No, my Lord, I believe arms-master Brian gave orders to send a rider after them.”
“Good.” Jayden nodded his approval.
“But there’s more news, my Lord,” the servant continued. “An emissary party has arrived from the capital. Their leader is looking to speak with you, sir. I believe it’s the first counsellor.”
Jeff admired the man’s ability to deliver his message so calmly.
“Gods be damned,” said Jayden. “All right, thank you, I’ll see to them.”
He ran his hand through his hair, and then smoothed it back down. “I guess our two weeks are up a little early. I’ll go greet our guests, find out what the hell they want. I’m not looking forward to sharing how badly we fucked up.”
***
Maggie had returned to cast her spell, so Jeff and Venn only had to share the news once. Cassie was mortified.
“I spent so much time with him, but Darcy never—I had no idea! Jeff, I’m so sorry.”
Jeff wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead. “No one’s blaming you for not seeing it. None of us did.”
“But why?” Jasmine asked. “What would the captain of the guard hope to attain by deposing the queen? Does he think they’ll rise him up to replace her?”
“They ran off before we could ask him, but I don’t know if it matters. We know they were in league with Raul, and we know they can’t go back to the palace. Likely they’ve gone to him. Hopefully the rider Brian sent after them will come back with some answers.”
“And now we have an emissary, as well?”
“Not sure how many of them, but at least First Counsellor Basten.”
Cassie frowned with disappointment. “But he’s so … moustached. You’ll see,” she added when Jasmine raised an eyebrow.
“Any change with Brady?” Jeff asked.
Maggie crossed her arms and shook her head. “I cast the spell, but it might have cost me more than it saved him. The moment I dropped the guard, I heard Raul’s voice in my head again. It’s not a nice feeling.” She brushed the back of her hand down Brady’s cheek. “I wonder if he heard it, too. Maybe he thought it was Talfyr and that’s why he kept pushing?”
Brady moaned, and Jeff and the four women held their breath, all hoping he would wake up. Jasmine hummed a soft tune, trying to soothe whate
ver demon made him toss his head against the pillows. Sweat beaded on his brow and trickled down his face, his skin turning pink and then red. When Maggie reached out to wipe his face with a cloth, her knuckles brushed his face, and she jerked back with a gasp.
“He’s burning up.”
The scholar began to thrash, his limbs convulsing against the cushions, the one at his feet sliding to the floor. Jasmine and Maggie tried to hold him down so he didn’t fall off, but his movements were too violent. He threw Maggie off balance, and Jasmine couldn’t hold on.
“What’s happening?” she asked.
“I have no idea. I think—gods, I think the Kemisan spell got in him too deeply. Even with the guard up …”
“No,” said Jasmine, unwilling to accept Maggie’s words. “It’s not that simple. We’re not just going to let him die. There has to be something more we can do.”
Jeff paced the room, unable to watch her panic without losing it himself. He cared about Brady. The scholar had been his rock the first time Jeff came to Andvell, always the voice of reason and patience. So eager to learn and so void of negative judgment. The thought of losing him, especially now when they needed him most, when Jasmine’s eyes had opened, and he was so close to achieving the happiness he’d pined for since he was six years old, it was too painful.
Not to mention Jeff would lose one of his best friends.
His throat closed up, and he dropped into Brady’s chair. Pulling the heavy book on the table into his lap, he hunched over it the way he’d seen the scholar do so many times. The book was open to a specific page, presumably the trance Brady had been working on the last couple of days. Jeff wondered how close the man had come to reaching his goal before Raul’s magic caught up with him.
The page was covered in small script and hand-drawn images. Jeff couldn’t understand the text, the words of the ritual written in some squiggly language, but the pictures suggested the goal of the trance was to find the centre of the mind and let it branch out. Similar to what Jeff had read about astral projection. All to do what? Order a dragon around?