Vol1: Chapter 21

The door to Vessadial’s grand hall was already open when they arrived. Dedran pushed past Raekar at the doors, holding the elf’s sword – the only sword they had – at the ready. The rest of his men had armed themselves as they were able, mostly with torches stolen from the walls.

Privately, Dedran doubted mundane weapons would matter at all, given how easily they had been subdued by the undead in the dungeon without Halana’s divine magic to protect them. Still, he had been more prepared to die in battle than cowering in some damned cell. Except that it seemed he wouldn’t have to.

The lich – Dedran recognized the robes from his brief visit to their cell – was laying on the ground. His head was cocked to an unnatural angle, and a heavy silver candlestick was lodged into the back of his skull. By the wall behind him, lady Halana knelt over Winia, her back to the door. She glanced over her shoulder, but when she saw them instead of foes she turned back to the other girl.

Dedran waved his men into the room. The ship boy was the last of them. As soon as he hobbled in, the elf leaning on him for support, Dedran gestured to the doors. “Barricade those,” he snapped, and his soldiers rushed to the task. Their immediate defense seen to, he crossed the room to lady Halana.

Raekar had beat him there, running to the priestess’ side as soon as he recognized his apprentice on the ground. Dedran frowned as he arrived. Winia was unnaturally pale. Her lips were a few shades too close to purple, and her breathing was shallow. Despite that, and the wide rents in her blouse, there was no injury on her that Dedran could see.

“Every potion?” Raekar was saying. “Be sure, the sentiment is appreciated, but that seems a bit much – and do you know how hard those are to make?”

Halana cradled Winia’s head in her lap. The apprentice’s eyes were closed. “You didn’t see her before,” the priestess snapped. “And all of them together haven’t banished the cold.”

“No,” Raekar admitted. “I suppose not. But they were made to treat physical trauma – not this. This is the result of too much black magic. You, of all people, should know that hell is cold, my lady.”

Dedran chose then to interrupt. “Lady Halana,” he said, “am I correct to believe that with the lich dead, the threat of this place has passed as well?”

Halana turned and caught his eye with a glare that made him blanch. For the first time since coming over, he could really see her. She wasn’t apparently injured, either, but her face was haggard from the pull of too many emotions. Her robes had been torn apart to her waist, and an ugly white scar ran like a spill of acid between her breasts. “Indeed,” she said with acrid dryness.

Dedran flushed and snapped his eyes back to her face. He fumbled with the clasp to his cloak and offered her the garment as soon as it left his shoulders.

Halana’s features softened as she accepted it and draped the heavy cloth over Winia. “Yes,” she said. “with Vessadial dead, we are safe enough – though it may be wisest to keep those doors barred until morning.” She turned back to Raekar. “Do you have anything to aid her recovery? I cannot call upon the power of my own patrons until daylight.”

The wizard shook his head slowly. “No,” he said, “though she seems to be recovering naturally. It’s strange,” he added, brushing fingers across his apprentice’s brow. “I would think that without the wards in her eye patch she would be more vulnerable – but perhaps I was wrong.” He frowned. “I’ve never actually seen her close that Eye before.”

In Halana’s lap, Winia rolled over, pulling the cloak tighter about herself. “No,” she rasped, opening her good eye. Despite the fact that her color was returning to normal, Dedran saw her shiver. Standing the furthest back, he almost missed her next words. “It’s only closed because he doesn’t want me to die from it,” she whispered. “I’m the only link he has left to her.”

Continue to Volume 1 Chapter 22