Old Gerthan grumbled as he tried again to heal Dissever’s cut. “I cannot heal him without contact. That wound is passing strange. I have never seen the like.”
Shadea’s eyes burned with curiosity. “Very well. Heal the rest of him as you think best and bandage that leg up for now.” She would not forget – she never did – and would take great pleasure in exploring one more mystery when this current task was done.
The healing magic bypassed Dissever’s hiding place and the absolute agony subsided to mere abundant pain. I lay limp and moaning while he painstakingly healed the rest of me. Shadea lost interest and stared at the wall, deep in thought, eyes flicking to and fro as if reading texts from memory.
He leant over me as his hands passed over my neck and whispered in my ear. “Be at ease. I shall do my best to see Charra out of here should the opportunity present itself. I can give you a chance, nothing more.”
“What did you say?” Shadea asked.
“Just an old man mumbling to himself,” he replied.
The pain was too much for me to reply, but shrivelled up old prune or not, I could have kissed him full on the lips. By the time he finished the old magus was leaning heavily on his cane. I was physically exhausted, but it felt like I had been healed more than Shadea had wanted. My Gift would take a while to restore itself, nothing anybody could do about that. I coughed, wincing with exaggerated pain. “Thank you,” I said. He looked shattered and I couldn’t help but feel he had fed his own energy into the healing process to reduce the toll on my body.
He grunted, pointedly ignored me and turned to face Shadea, an expression as if he’d just stepped in a mound of horse dung on his face. I wasn’t the praying type, but if there had been a great spirit or a god out there somewhere who wasn’t a complete arse-rag, then I’d have sent my thanks.
“It is done,” he said, then left without another word.
As he exited the room Cillian marched in wearing cerulean robes so heavily woven through with metallic wards that soft clinks sounded with every step. The sanctor came in behind her and I could see the shadows of others lurking in the hallway. They were here to force me back down into the Boneyards and they would collar and leash me like a feral dog if they had to.
As the guards removed my chains and began dressing me in clean clothes and new boots, I decided it was time to play the con man again, to take every edge I could get. I groaned and exaggerated the damage to my body, tried to walk, failed and slumped back down on the pallet, face twisting in pain.
“Stop faking, boy,” Shadea said. “You are well enough to walk.”
Cillian glared at me, then looked to the sanctor. “Martain, stay close to him. He is as slippery as an eel and we still have many questions that need answering.” Her eyes warned me to behave. Even if I did what they wanted then I had a hunch that somebody would see to it that I didn’t survive captivity for long. It would be arranged to look like suicide – just another cursed tyrant putting himself out of his misery. It was a crying shame I’d have to find a way to disappoint all these fine magi.
My hands were pulled out in front of me and Cillian fastened cuffs around my wrists. “Oh my,” I said. “In public too. How lewd. You might have asked me first, Cillian, but I’m fine with you being in charge.” She didn’t show any emotion on her face, but did pull away to fuss with her hair. I didn’t imagine many people had enough of a death wish to speak like that to a member of the Inner Circle. Shadea looked more murderous than usual.
Martain punched me between the shoulder blades. “Do not speak to her that way, you viperous mongrel.” I noted he wore gloves now.
I stumbled forward, then turned to smirk at him. He seemed overly protective of Cillian, and from the way he glared at me he probably knew we had once been involved. Angry people didn’t act with forethought, and that I could use. “Viperous mongrel? Is that really the best you can come up with? Why don’t you just piss on her to mark your territory?”
His face went red. He started forward, but before he could do more than growl Cillian snapped her fingers. “Restrain yourself, Martain, don’t dance to his tune – he always was good at angering people.”
Two guards stormed through the doorway, wrapped gauntleted hands around my arms and dragged me out into the corridor where two other magi waited, young men with an edgy, angry air to them that stank of pyromancer. You didn’t as a general rule get old pyromancers. They tended to, hah, burn themselves out quickly.
“Does anybody require anything before we begin?” Cillian said.
I almost asked for a strong drink and a last meal just to be annoying, because I’m the sort of git that likes to rile up serious people for my amusement.
“How about a gag?” Martain said. She seemed to be seriously considering it.
Just because they needed me right now didn’t mean they would shy away from inflicting pain. I had to stay calm, keep my mouth shut, and try to squirm my way out of this midden I’d fallen into.
While I withered under Shadea’s scathing glare somebody in clinking chainmail and creaking leather marched up the corridor to my right.
I turned. Eva started, pretty green eyes widening in shock. She was armoured for tunnel fighting, wearing metal gauntlets with spiked knuckles and a heavy knife sheathed at her hip. Longer weapons would just get in the way down in the Boneyards. I swallowed. Of all people, why did it have to be her? If Shadea or Cillian found out we had spent time together in the evidence rooms it would not be pretty, and she didn’t deserve that.
“Well, hello there, pretty lady,” I said, forcing a sleazy grin onto my face. “Are you my bodyguard? You had better stay very close. What’s your name, my lovely?” She stared in confusion. I turned to wink at Shadea. “You lot really spoil me.”
Shadea was not impressed. “Careful boy, if one more base comment escapes your lips I will sew them shut. If you irritate Evangeline she has my leave to break your fingers. You do not need those to walk.” Her liver-spotted hand slapped into my crotch, held firm. I kept very, very still. “Or perhaps I will take these instead. Anger me further and at the end of this I will have a rarity on my dissection table.” She licked her cracked lips in anticipation.
Eva regained her compose, catching on to my ploy. She was not a good liar, but fortunately all eyes were on Shadea and myself. “So you are Edrin Walker?” she said, scowling with real anger simmering behind her eyes. “I thought you’d be bigger from the way they described you. You look like a lying rogue.”
“Well,” I said. “Don’t say you weren’t warned.”
If she had thought about coming clean she had just missed her chance. Our mutual secret was safe for now. Eva had guts as well as a bit of a mouth on her. I liked that. Shame about the timing. The unsavoury part of me filed all of this away as possible leverage to use later – after all, she had far more to lose than I did.
“Enough delaying, Edrin,” Cillian said. “It is time to begin our descent.” The guards dragged me forward and there was nothing I could do to resist.
Chapter 23
Cillian marched us through corridors and down staircases, winding deep into the very bowels of the Collegiate. Martain and the two guards flanking me were a constant thorn, but I was more worried by Shadea’s soft footfalls behind me. Her gaze stabbed my back, burning for a chance to cut me open and dig about in a tyrant’s still-living innards.