“Only Auroch had the same plan,” Braddoc noted stiffly.
Brisbois nodded his swollen head. Brisbois looked at Jo and began to tremble. He took a breath of air through lips so swollen they could hardly open.
Johauna looked from Brisbois to Braddoc and back to the knight. Her mouth curled into a sneer, and she said, “You bastard liar” She spat in Brisbois’s face.
“That’s enough!” Braddoc roared. He grabbed Jo’s arm and dragged her a few steps away. The dwarf stared at her, twitches of anger working across his features. “Johauna, I’m ashamed of you! Ashamed, do you hear?” As if to reinforce his words, he took his hand off the young woman’s arm.
Enraged, Jo tore into the dwarf. “He’s lying, you fool! He’d say anything to avoid going back to the castle! He’d kill Auroch to save his hide, and he’d kill us, too.”
Braddoc waved his hand. “The man would have died here if we hadn’t happened—”
“He faked it! He’s faked it all!” Jo shouted. “Somehow he knew we were here! He hired those thugs—”
“Excuse me,” Brisbois said in a whisper that cut through the humid air. He tried unsuccessfully to raise his hand. “I don’t mean to interrupt … your decision of my fate,” he said, his eyes whirling in his head, “but I think I … Brisbois’s expression went blank, a mocking smile seeming to curl about his battered lips, and he crumpled to the wet ground.
“I knew this would happen! I just knew this would happen!” Braddoc fumed. He handed Jo his battle-axe and knelt by the injured man. Jo refused to move; she watched in stony silence as Braddoc checked Brisbois. “His arm’s broken—thankfully not his sword arm—and he’s got a lot of bad bruises. His face looks awful.” Braddoc stood and began gathering the man’s lanky body over his shoulder.
Jo licked her lips, and her eyes narrowed. The wind shifted a little, and the stench of the rendering hall hit her full in the face. “Throw him into the dead animal pen,” she said brutally. “Tomorrow he’ll be a candle—not a traitor.” Her lips pulled downward.
“Wish I had a real squire to give me a hand,” Braddoc barked unexpectedly. “I’m bringing this man back to the inn. He may or may not be innocent, but he is injured. You can either stay here and pout or join us.” The dwarf grunted as he shifted Brisbois’s body on his shoulder.
Braddoc started walking away, back through the alley they had entered.
Unmoving, Jo watched Braddoc sway as he disappeared past the lamplights range. Her glimpse of Brisbois saw his broken arm swing loose from the dwarfs hold. The arm jerked and dangled, moving unnaturally. The squire smiled coldly, and her eyes didn’t blink. For a long time she continued to stare after the pair, her expression frozen, until she could no longer hear Braddoc’s shuffling gait.
The squire turned away, then suddenly raised her fists to the sky. She threw her head back and cried in rage, “Fliiinnn!”
The rain began again to fall.
Karleah entwined her fingers together and then stretched out her arms, cracking her knuckles and her elbow joints simultaneously. Granting the boy a sidelong glance, she began to rummage through a basket of dried herbs on the table before her. As her fingers slipped among the dried stalks and tightly woven bags, the old woman peered up at the boy through her bushy brows. It was on the tip of her tongue to say, “You’ve grown,” but Dayin’s expression was too sad and confused for such an innocuous observation.
“What are you looking for, Karleah?” Dayin asked quietly. His sky-blue eyes were shadowed with pain, but he hadn’t cried. There was an edge to his gaze that had been lacking this morning. Karleah wondered if the boy would ever cry again.
“Let me present a puzzle to you, boy.” Her long fingers delicately pulled the orcbane from the feverfew. “Let’s see if you get the same answer I did. Sit down.”
“What’s this puzzle about, Karleah?” Dayin asked, a tinge of interest coloring his voice. His eyes shone a little brighter.
Karleah frowned as she stared at the boy. “Why do you suppose the dragon brought useless wands of power with him to his fight with Flinn?” she asked. “Verdilith knew he and Flinn would fight; he knew Flinn would finally join him in the glade where they had first fought many years ago. So why did the dragon bring useless gadgets along? And why did he refrain from casting his own spells? Tell me, Dayin.”
The boy stared at Karleah and then blinked twice. He shook his head and said, “They must’ve been drained, just like your spells were drained.” Dayin paused, waiting for Karleah to say something. She remained silent, and he continued, “So whatever drained the spells must be in the glade where they fought, or in the dragon’s lair itself.”
“Almost right,” Karleah replied, amused at the boy’s sincerity but gratified to see that he was working out the puzzle on his own. “Where were my spells drained, in the glade or in the lair?”
“The lair,” Dayin blurted, sudden recognition breaking over him, “so whatever was draining magic must have been in the lair, right?” The boy stopped, his blue eyes clouding a little.
Karleah nodded and said, “Yes, Dayin?” Let the boy work it through, she told herself.
“But that’s not quite right, either,” Dayin said suddenly. He propped his chin with his hand. “Because I wasn’t ever in the lair, and I lost my spells, too. And you lost more spells after we left the lair; your staff kept being drained, even after we got to the castle.”
Karleah played with a forget-me-not twig, then looked at the boy. “And … ?” she queried.
Dayin’s brows knit again. “And …” he said slowly, then his brows rose, “and so that means somehow I’ve been near whatever drained you and the wands of magic. It must have been something that attached itself to you in the cave… . Something like dust, or water, or spores …”
“… or treasure,” Karleah nudged impatiently.
Stunned, the boy stared at the wizardess. “Do you think all that stuff works like a magic magnet, Karleah? Sucking out enchantments from everything the treasure comes near?”
Marshaling her patience, Karleah responded gently, “You saw all the things Jo and Braddoc brought from the lair. Tell me about them.”
Dayin’s eyes wandered to the ceiling. “Jo had a really pretty opal, I remember, and a crown with some blue gems on it. She had lots of coins, a weird dagger, some pearly things …”
“And Braddoc?” Karleah coaxed.
“Braddoc had, let me see, a jeweled dagger that you could hide stuff inside the hilt. And he had a giant goose egg encrusted with gold and gems.” Dayin pointed suddenly at Karleah. “Oh! And a box! That funny box that wouldn’t open!”
Karleah smiled, touched her nose with one finger, then reached out and touched Dayin’s. “You’ve got it, Dayin! Dragons hoard treasures of great value. All the objects you mentioned would fetch a fortune in the marketplace—all except that plain iron box. It had to have some reason for being there, some great value to the dragon, and I think drawing magic must be what it is.”
“Are you sure, Karleah?” Dayin said, suddenly discouraged. “It was awfully plain—Just iron and all that.”
“Ah, but you saw what happened when Braddoc tried to open that ‘simple’ box,” Karleah rejoined. “There’s much more to that box than meets the eye, my boy.”
“But the box didn’t even seem magical …”
“Of course not,” Karleah replied, a bit more harshly than she intended. “It’s antimagical. It somehow acts as a magnet for magic and draws it out of anything that is near it.” She smiled at Dayin, well pleased at his deductive powers. “So, the riddle is solved.” Dayin responded to her keen-edged smile with a look of concern. “Don’t worry about it; I’ll have Braddoc drop it in the bottom of a deep gorge in the Wulfholdes. That should …” Karleah’s words trailed off as the boy’s expression of concern deepened into one of horror. “Dayin?” Karleah asked worriedly.