His Cure For Magic (Book 2) Read online

  "It does, at that," Kelkin replied. "It has some fish blood in it, but it is mainly composed of sap and a mixture of ground herbs and berries. If you were with fever, this tincture would see you well within two nights."

  "Remarkable," Eryn said. She couldn't stop herself from staring at it.

  Sap and berries. It looks just like blood.

  He passed it to his other hand, and then leaned over and shifted the box at his feet. He put the tincture away and closed it. Eryn was sure if she could see it open now, there would be an empty vile resting inside.

  They continued talking. Eryn kept a close eye on Wilem, to see if his demeanor changed at all from swallowing whatever Kelkin had put in his drink. When it appeared he was unaffected, she stopped worrying about it.

  "Well, I'm going to go to bed," Kelkin said, getting to his feet and picking up his box. "Wilem, remember what I told you. Goodnight, my dear." He lifted Eryn's hand and kissed it before vanishing up the stairs.

  "What did he tell you?" Eryn asked.

  Wilem looked at her in silence. He picked up his mug to take a drink, discovering it was empty. "I need some air. Will you join me outside?"

  Eryn pushed back her chair and stood. "Are you well?"

  He got to his feet. "I will be. I'm just a little nauseous." He started walking towards the front doors, Eryn trailing behind him.

  Once they were outside, he made his way to the alley that led to the stables. He put his hand against the side of the inn and leaned over, taking deep breaths. Was it the tincture?

  Eryn wasn't sure what else to do, so she started rubbing his back. His breathing relaxed and he straightened up, so she started to pull her hand away. He caught it with his.

  "Eryn," he said. She could see he was nervous. Very nervous. "I..."

  She had never held a boy's hand before. It was larger than hers, but soft and warm and strong. She liked the feel of it, but not the situation. She had an idea of what he might be about to say.

  "I'm leaving tomorrow morning," she said.

  It was as if she had hit him in the head with the flat of her sword. The redness of his face fell away to white, and his hand went limp in hers.

  "Oh."

  "My father's business is done. I'll be returning to Portnis with him. Maybe you can visit me there."

  He looked stricken. "I would but... I can't. Not for a while anyway. Mas.. My father's business is here, and then further south."

  She smiled at him. "Well, whenever you are in Portnis, then. You can come for di-"

  Before she knew what was happening, Wilem's face was right up to hers, and his lips were on her lips. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she had to fight every instinct to punch him in the gut and throw him to the ground.

  She just stared at him when he backed up. She fought to disguise her anger. He was a friend, just a friend. Her first kiss, and it had meant nothing to her.

  "I just wanted to say goodbye," Wilem said. "My apologies if I offended you."

  She took a deep breath and forced a smile. "You didn't offend me. I just wasn't expecting that. I like you Wilem, I do, but I have to leave tomorrow, and my father would never approve of me consorting with anyone who wasn't my betrothed."

  It was a good lie, and it calmed the awkward moment.

  "Of course, I understand." Wilem returned her smile. "I'll miss you."

  "I'll miss you, too. Tell your father I said thank you for his wonderful tales. Thank you for your company. You've made my visit here worth wearing these clothes."

  He gave a weak laugh at that. Eryn turned on her heel and went back into the inn, up the stairs to her room.

  It took three hours for her swordplay to put her to sleep.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Eryn

  "I have everything you asked for," Davin said.

  They were in his true residence, a smallish mansion at the western edge of the Heart. They had travelled there separately through the streets, careful that none of them were seen together. The King of Hearts had wanted to use the underground tunnels, but he had been informed that the Overlord knew Silas was in the city, and he didn't trust that they wouldn't plant lookouts or ambushes in the underground routes. Even spiriting them into the mansion had been a calculated risk.

  Eryn stood in Davin's study with Silas and Andreaus. A map was unrolled across the rogue's desk, showing them a more detailed depiction of the Washfall ore mine and its surrounds.

  "You have the coin?" Andreaus asked.

  "Ames is keeping an eye on it downstairs, " he replied. "He and Lance will carry it, and a carriage will meet the three of you outside the walls to take you to Portnis. It's almost everything I've saved over these last twenty years, so don't waste it."

  Andreaus bowed.

  Half of the gold was going to pay blacksmiths in villages throughout the region to start increasing their purchases of steel and iron ingots and begin fashioning them into swords and armor. The other half was going to be for more immediate use in procuring supplies for the rebellion, with the ultimate goal being to harry any of the armies returning from Elling should they try to return through the Killorn Pass. They would prefer the troops to have to take to the sea, because the route was longer and slower, but if they didn't, the rebellion would try to slow them as much as possible, providing time for Silas and Eryn to cut the head off the snake.

  "How are you going to get that much gold out of the gates?" Silas asked.

  "The same way I'm going to get you out. There's a fourth way to and from Varrow City. One that only my most trusted people and me know."

  "Does your daughter know?"

  Davin's face was grim. "No. It pains me to say it, but she can't be trusted. Building the tunnel came at the cost of many lives, lives that I don't plan to see wasted. I've saved more than I took in its making, and I intend to keep it that way."

  "The setup?" Silas asked.

  "Two old nags pulling a wagon laden with grain. I also found a dozen brave souls willing to bring themselves and their own supplies into your scheme. They'll be waiting in the woods between the city and the mines."

  Silas nodded. He was the General right now, focused and intense. "Show us the mines."

  Davin led them over to the table and pointed at the map. "The mines are a half-day's ride to the east of the city. They're below ground, dug out from a small mound of earth into a massive complex of caves. They are patrolled by soldiers at all times, a crossing pattern at the perimeter that never leaves the surrounding area out of their sight, and even more soldiers at various positions in the mine itself. The main entrance is here." He pointed to the side facing the city. "There's a guard station at the top of the mound, where a pair of soldiers and a Mediator keep watch." He looked up at them. "I never knew why a Mediator would be there, until yesterday."

  Silas had told Davin all about the Mediators and their relation to the Cursed. The truth had made him livid.

  "How many people are in there?" Eryn asked. All they were seeing was a map, a simple representation. It gave them only a vague idea of the size.

  "It is hard to know for sure," Davin replied. "My estimate is at least one thousand."

  "A thousand people?" Eryn tried to wrap her mind around the number.

  "There are over four dozen ore mines in the Empire," Davin said. "Washfall is one of the smallest."

  "The East Killorn mine has over ten thousand people in it," Silas said. "Or it did some time ago."

  Eryn couldn't conceive of it. How many people were there in the Empire?

  "What does he do with it?" Eryn asked. "The weapons are almost unbreakable, and I haven't seen the ircidium used anywhere else except the top of the palaces. If the mines have been in operation for years, he must have collected more of the metal than he could ever use."

  "It's a good question," Silas said. "I don't know if I ever knew the answer."

  What they did know about the metal was that it had an interesting relationship to magic. The power couldn't penetrate it from the
outside, and yet it was able to be conducted from the inside. Was there a prison hidden somewhere, a place where all of the Cursed that didn't become Mediators were taken and held until the Curse killed them? Were the cells made of the metal? The fact that there were many more Cursed collected than there were Mediators had been a revelation.

  "They won't be expecting you today, Silas," Davin said, looking up from the map. "If word has reached them of your presence in Varrow, they'll be even more on guard."

  "I know, but we dare not wait. I'm expecting that they'll continue to underestimate what we're willing to do to put the thorn in his side." He turned to Andreaus. "Do you have everything you need?"

  The merchant nodded. "As long as we can get out of the city without being seen, I should be able to get the coin to the rebellion. I'll do whatever I can to get you the time you need."

  "Lance will return to report once the vintner is safe," Davin said. He reached into a drawer in his desk and lifted up the note from Patmos. He tore it into pieces. "Consider your debt paid."

  "Come, my dear. We need to prepare." Silas bowed to Davin and Andreaus, and turned to leave.

  "If you die, she'll die," Davin said behind them. "If she dies, I don't want to live."

  Silas bowed again, and led Eryn from the room. As soon as they had reached the hallway, he put his hand on her shoulder. "Are you sure you can handle this?"

  She put her own hand on top of his. "Are you sure you can handle this?" she replied. "You're putting a lot of faith in Davin."

  "We have little other choice. We both want that journal he holds, and if Saretta can bring us to the Dark, we have to take the risk. I hate asking you to come with me, but-"

  "Don't worry, Silas. Amman didn't give me this power in order to stand by while others like me are hunted and killed. If I die trying to help them, then I will sit at his His side and bask in His glow, knowing I lived my life to the fullest I was able."

  She knew Silas didn't have the same faith in Amman that she did, but he smiled and took his hand away. He pushed open the door to the small guest bedroom where they had left their things and looked inside. "The clothes Davin left you are inside, and it looks like his people found our stash without being caught. He's a resourceful one."

  Eryn slipped past him and pushed the door closed. There were two stacks on top of the bed. One was a pair of leather breeches and a small leather vest, a black cloth doublet, and another dress, stained and torn and large enough to be worn over the armor. Next to it was Silas' change of clothes - a stained cotton shirt and cotton pants, along with a pair of hard-soled slippers. Davin had offered him more substantial armor, but he had refused. It wouldn't protect him against the Mediator, and he didn't plan on being struck with a sword.

  The bundle they had buried outside of Varrow was also in the room, and Eryn opened it to find the wand with the white stone, and her father's books. She put her hand to the journal. "Amman, bless me with the strength to right all wrongs, and make all of my family proud." She picked up the journal and kissed it, and then undressed.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Silas

  "I want to thank all of you for volunteering," Silas said to the merchants gathered around their wagons.

  They were out of Varrow City and in to the Washfall Wood, a mile or more from the city walls. Davin had downplayed the impressiveness of the passage, which extended from a nondescript mound of manure behind his stables, travelled deep enough under the city to pass below even the ancient subterranean passages, and moved in a straight line below the walls and out into the trees. It had taken thousands of gold coins, years of digging, a creative dumping of earth around various points of the existing underground, and the death of hundreds to bring it to fruition. It was Davin's life's work, all in the name of his dream of one day overthrowing the Overlord of Varrow and holding the city as a stronghold against the Empire.

  Now he's risking it all to save the woman he loves. I would do the same for you, Alyssa.

  Silas' eyes passed over each of the merchants. Most wore the same stained and unkept clothes that he did. Most had little in the world besides what they wore on their backs or carried in their carts. They travelled from village to city, bartering for meats and grains and selling them to him at fixed prices, feeding the armies to earn barely enough coin to feed their own family. They had little enough to lose, and Davin had promised them that their wives and children would be well cared for regardless of the outcome.

  They were the people of his Empire. They were the forgotten, who moved about without notice from soldiers or the Overlords. Their anonymity made them the perfect accomplices.

  "Thank you, Silas," one of the merchants replied. "Thank you for standing up to him. My son was brought to Washfall after he questioned the price of the grain we had brought in and threatened to sell it somewhere else. I don't even know if he's still alive."

  "If he is, he'll be free by morning," Silas said. "We'll see to that." He looked over at Eryn, who was sitting on the bench of the wagon in the center of the train.

  "My girl," another said. "They took her and accused her of prostitution. My girl ain't no prostitute, my Lord. All she did was say no to a soldier. All she did was respect her pa's wishes to stay pure 'til she was wed." He had tears in his eyes and he used a dirty sleeve to wipe them away.

  The merchants all spoke out in turn, expressing their anger and sadness at the treatment they had endured beneath his boot. Silas listened to all of them, offering individual words of comfort and thanks, and lifting their spirits the way only a leader of men could.

  "You think this plan will work?" Sharl asked. His wife had been taken over a dozen years earlier for stealing a loaf of bread. He was one of the oldest of the bunch, and while he was certain his wife couldn't have survived the labor of the mines, he clung to the hope that he could earn revenge on her memory.

  "I'm sure it will. Take heart in that. They'll be telling stories of this for years to come."

  It would work because his soldiers would be prepared for an attack. What Silas was bringing was something they wouldn't expect. He climbed into the wagon with Eryn. "We'll stop right before we enter the clearing, but only for a moment." He waved at the others, and they all gained their own wagons and eased their horses into a slow trot.

  ###

  They could hear the sound of the mines as they moved closer to it, a murmur of voices rising into the crisp night air, backed by the muffled clang and thump of picks and hammers. Stars shined down from the sky above them, but Silas couldn't see them from his position underneath the center wagon.

  "Are you well?" he asked.

  Eryn shifted slightly in the leather harness that was holding them off the ground. "I'm scared."

  Silas smiled. "So am I, my dear. So am I."

  They rocked and shifted as the wagon trundled forward, the makeshift straps groaning beneath their weight and threatening to spill them to the ground at any moment. The merchants around them were talking to one another, a nervous banter meant to try to fool the soldiers into thinking they belonged, though Silas was sure it would be a failed effort.

  They spoke about their children, they spoke about their wives. They spoke of the simple pleasures like fishing and whittling, of minstrels and mummers. They tried to hide their fear. They tried to stand up to it and face it down. They showed the courage of a hundred soldiers, though none had ever picked up a sword in their lives.

  Until tonight.

  Silas heard the hoofbeats of the approaching soldiers. Judging by the speed of the caravan, they were almost two thirds of the way to the front gates. Luck was with them - they had gotten further than he had hoped.

  He couldn't see the mines, but he didn't need to. His nose caught the scent of heat and sweat and death, and in that moment he remembered. Not this mine, but the mines of Killorn, where ten times or more the number of people worked day and night to dig out the ores that he craved so desperately. How many people had General Talon Rast brought to those mines? How
much pain and suffering was he responsible for?

  "Hold!" The soldiers reached them. The wagons rolled to a stop.

  "We... We have a delivery of supplies. A... A special replacement order." The merchants had put Oli in charge of speaking. He was the eldest among them, a kind old man who had lost half of his left hand in a farming accident years ago. Silas could hear him fumbling with the papers Davin had forged. A special letter from Overlord Prezi verifying the cargo.

  "Give me that."

  The paper rustled again while the soldier unfolded it. Silas could see the hooves of the other soldier's destrier, trotting slowly along the line.

  "The seal is missing," the soldier said.

  "Wh.. What?" Oli's fear made his voice crack.

  "I said the seal is missing, old man. What are you trying to pull?"

  "We have a message from the rebellion," Oli said. "Silas is coming. He's going to die, and you're going to die with him."

  Silas heard the sound of old swords being lifted from the front of the wagons. He held his breath and closed his eyes. "Too soon," he whispered.

  Oli's scream followed a moment later, and the second soldier charged the nearest merchant. Another cry echoed in the night, and the two horses turned and raced away, back towards the mines.

  "Where are they going?" Eryn asked. Her own voice was thick with fear.

  "It's time." He reached over and twisted his wrist, pulling on the strap and causing it to drop them to the ground. They could see the merchants' feet shifting around the wagons while they tried to figure out what to do. "Eryn, save us."

  She closed her eyes. "Obex," she whispered.

  Heartbeats passed in tense silence. It appeared as though nothing was happening.

  Then the world exploded around them.

  It occurred in the space of one breath to another. The merchants shifted from foot to foot, uneasy, not knowing what to expect. The sky brightened as though it was daytime, and a rush of air blew leaves and bent the grass around them. Next came heat, unbelievable heat, and it poured down on the caravan like it had been dropped from the sky, igniting the wagons and their contents as no more than tinder, igniting the clothes the merchants wore and scattering them while they burned alive.