Veilspeaker (Pharim War Book 2) (14 page)

Villia groaned and tried to get to her feet, but it
was obviously a struggle, and she gave up, never having fully shaken off her
daze. Jez rolled to his feet and tried to make it to her, but the demons
blocked his way. She wasn’t moving. Rock dust from the broken stone covered
her. Jez caught the blade of one shadow, but the other stabbed him in the arm. Cold
shot out from the wound, filling him from his fingers to his shoulder, and he
lost all feeling in his arm as it fell limp to his side. He glanced at Villia,
but the demons were ignoring her.

“Rock dust,” he said under his breath.

He backed off several steps and started weaving
another ward, this one drawing power from stone. One of the bricks in the floor
exploded, completely covering the shadows in rock dust. Almost instantly, Jez
was bathed in sweat. With anything other than the brute application of force,
earth was difficult for him to deal with, but he couldn’t think of anything
else. Jez closed his fist, and the dust solidified, slowing the creatures. One
of the demons slashed at him, but Jez caught it on his blade. Weakened by the
earth binding, crystal sword cut through shadowy blade, and the tip of the
demon’s bladed arm fell to the ground. Jez lunged forward. The creature tried
to move out of the way, but binding had removed its unnatural speed, and Jez’s
blade pierced the chest. He drew it out almost immediately and turned to face
the other, not even watching as the first shadow died.

A blade came at him from his left, and he tried to
back away, but the limp arm was awkward. He wasn’t used to not having control
over it, and the stone covered shadow cut a gash from his elbow to his hand
before Jez moved out of the way. He didn’t even feel the wound, which he
suspected was a very bad thing. He tried to strike back, but either this demon
hadn’t been as strongly affected by the binding, or it was simply more skilled
than its companion. Jez’s sword missed it by inches as it backed away. The lack
of resistance threw Jez off balance, and he recovered just as the demon thrust.
The blade went into Jez’s stomach, and cold ran over his entire body. He cried out,
but his voice sounded weak. He tasted blood on his lips. The last thing he saw
before he lost consciousness was Villia rising and slashing off the demon’s
head.

Jez woke as a yellow sashed healer was
standing over him. The grandfatherly man held his hands clasped over Jez’s
stomach and warmth flooded into his body. He took in a deep breath and the
healer smiled.

“I’m glad to see you awake. We weren’t sure you’d make
it. The wound was bad enough but what that thing left inside...” The healer
shivered. “No matter. It’s gone now.”

“What happened?” Jez asked.

“We were hoping you could tell us.” Jez turned to see
Osmund standing near him. “We found you unconscious in the hall. The guards
said something about shadows, but they were so scared it was hard to get
anything out of them.”

Jez nodded, though the effort drained him. “It was
some kind of demon. Lina got away and sent them to cover her retreat. Did you
find her?”

Osmund shook his head. “We got Varin. He actually came
running back to us, screaming. It’s why we went looking for you. The king threw
him in the dungeon.”

“What about Villia?”

“What about her?”

“Is she all right?”

“I haven’t seen her in the past couple of hours.”

“She saved me,” he said. “Maybe she went after Lina.”

“Jez, her workshop is empty.”

“What?”

“It looks like she left.”

“No,” Jez said as he tried and failed to sit up. “I
convinced her to stay. She wouldn’t just...”

Jez’s words died out. He’d convinced her to fight, and
she’d done it badly. She was lucky to be alive. She’d been hurt and should’ve
been here. If she wasn’t, and her body hadn’t been found, Osmund was probably
right. Of course, that was all assuming a dead afur would leave a body.

“What exactly happened?” Osmund asked. “How did Lina
get away?”

“I’m not sure.” Jez thought back to her capture. “When
we came out of the dungeon, she tried to use her power, but I countered her and
cut her off. Oh no.”

“What?”

“I thought I cut her off. She turned invisible,
remember? I thought I countered her, but it was too fast. She made an illusion
of herself. That’s why her expression never changed. She made me think I had
warded her by fooling my protection sense.” He remembered feeling the draft as
they had gone in to see the king. “She even brushed by me in the map room, and
I still didn’t put it together.”

Osmund let out a low whistle. “She’s very good.”

“That’s enough for now,” the healer said. “He needs
his rest.”

“The king will want to see him.”

“The king will have to wait if he wants anything more
than a few minutes with him.”

“A few minutes will be fine,” Haziel said as he came
up next to Jez. His eyes were hard, and his brow was creased in anger. “Baron,
I was given to understand you were a skilled binder. Villia’s apprentice has
been trying to convince me of that, but I don’t see any evidence. Would you
care to explain how a mere child escaped your personal escort using only
illusions?”

“Your Majesty?”

“I would not have entrusted her into your care if I’d
known you were so incompetent.”

“She tricked us,” Jez said. “Even your guards didn’t
know.”

“My guards are not mages. Give me one reason I
shouldn’t throw you in the dungeon alongside the traitor Varin.”

Jez just stared at him for several seconds, unsure of
what to say. Finally, he blurted the first thing that came into his mind. “It
was all Lina. I don’t think Varin actually did anything.”

The king’s face reddened and he spoke through clenched
teeth. “You’re working with him.”

“What? No.” Jez started coughing and the healer
practically pushed Haziel out of the way. The king glared, but the healer
didn’t seem to notice. He put a hand on Jez’s forehead, but Jez waved him off.
“Your Majesty, I’m the one that accused him.”

Haziel snorted. “A clever ploy.”

“To do what?” Osmund asked.

The king rounded on him. “Don’t take that tone with
me, monster. You’re lucky you’re not already in prison. That can be remedied.”

Osmund’s eyes went wide, he looked at Jez, but Jez
could only shrug. What could’ve happened to so completely change Haziel’s
attitude? Before he could say anything, however, the healer stepped forward. He
flinched when he saw the expression on Haziel’s face, but he stood firm.

“Your Majesty, I really must insist you continue this
after Baron Jezreel has gotten some rest. It does no one any good to exhaust
him further.”

The king scowled but nodded. “Very well, but I want
him under guard.” He glared at Osmund. “I want both of them under guard with
binders to keep their powers under control. If the baron does not provide a
satisfactory explanation for this disaster, he and his attack dog will be
thrown into the dungeon and suffer the same fate as Varin.”

The king started to walk away, and Jez reached up and
grabbed his sleeve. The king turned and gave him a look that could’ve burned
stone. He pulled away. Jez tried to hold on, but he didn’t have the strength,
and the king’s robes slipped away. Jez gasped and Osmund moved forward. Jez
shook his head and Osmund backed up. The healer ushered the king out and Osmund
went to Jez’s side.

“What was that about?”

“He smelled like sulfur,” Jez said. “I think Haziel is
under the influence of a demon.”

Osmund watched the departing king. “Are you sure?”

Jez shook his head. “Not really, but nothing else
makes sense.”

“He’s controlled by Lina, then?”

“It looks like it.” Jez’s thoughts were fuzzy. “She’s
a summoner and a mentalist. Where did she learn it all?”

“But the king was mad that Lina got away. Why would
she make him feel like that?”

The healer exchanged a few words with the king before
shutting the door. He started to walk back to them, so Jez spoke quietly so the
old man wouldn’t here.

“I have no idea.”

Jez fell asleep shortly after the king
left. For the next several hours, he slept in fits and spurts. Nightmares of
his battles with Marrowit stopped him from slumbering too long. He kept
worrying he wouldn’t wake up. Every time he woke, Osmund was by his side though
they never spoke for very long. Once, he dreamed the arm he’d been stabbed in
was on fire. The pain was so intense his arm still tingled after he woke up. A
few times, he woke screaming, his cries summoning whatever healer was on duty.
Most of the time, they would only touch his forehead or give him a drink of
water. Once, it was Paleel, and she clasped her hands over his chest. They
glowed, and warmth spread through his body. His eyelids felt heavy and he
couldn’t keep them open. He fell asleep a few seconds later.

The sun was shining when he awoke the last time. There
was a bowl on a small table by his bed. Chunks of chicken were floating in a
yellow broth. The soup was still steaming, and Jez’s stomach growled at the
scent. He grunted but managed to sit. Osmund, who was dozing in a nearby chair,
stirred and woke. Almost instantly, he was at Jez’s side, but Jez smiled at
him, and Osmund relaxed a little. Jez took a few spoonfuls of soup while a
healer, a young woman with dark hair, came to examine him. Her eyes glowed
yellow for a second, and she nodded before scurrying away. Osmund handed him a
cup, and Jez drank deeply of the water. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was
until he put the cup down and saw that he’d emptied it. Once he was done with
the meal, he felt stronger, though the sight of the guards inside the sick
chambers made his stomach churn.

“Have they been here all night?”

Osmund followed his gaze and nodded. “Haziel came in a
little while ago, but Mage Rana turned him away.” He shuddered. “That’s one
mean old woman.”

Jez smiled. “Master Balud said some healers are like
that when they’re taking care of someone. You didn’t have to stay here all
night.”

Osmund looked back at the guards. “Actually, I did.”

Jez’s mind was still foggy and it took him a while to
figure out what Osmund was talking about. “Oh right.”

“Can you free the king from whatever is controlling
him?”

Jez let out a breath. “I don’t know. Without knowing
if it’s a full possession or just some kind of influence, I don’t know what I
can do. It’s not like he’s going to sit down and let me examine him.” Jez shook
his head. “I need more information. There’s more going on here than we thought.
Have we been declared prisoners?”

“No, not officially.”

“Then, I’m still the Baron of Korand.”

Osmund nodded. “As far as I know.”

He called over the healer. She walked to him and
inclined her head.

“Yes, do you need something?”

“Can you get me a canvas and some paints?”

Osmund smiled. Jez had used this technique to access
hidden knowledge before, but the healer’s brow wrinkled. “My lord?”

“A canvas and some paints.” Jez smiled. “Don’t worry,
I promise it won’t tire me too much. I’d very much like to paint right now. It
helps relax my mind.”

The healer looked uneasy. “I’m not sure. I should
probably ask Mage Rana. I think she’s still sleeping though. She was tending to
you all night.”

“I don’t think you need to bother her. I don’t even
need to get out of bed. I just want to paint a little.”

“Well, yes, I suppose that would be all right, as long
as you didn’t tire yourself.”

Jez smiled. “I’ll be careful.”

Her head bobbed, and she scurried away to speak to the
guards. A gruff faced man glared at him, but Jez didn’t blink. Osmund stood
next to him with his hand at his side. It could’ve been a coincidence, or he
could’ve been preparing to summon his sword. The guard blanched but nodded. It
took nearly a quarter hour for the supplies to be delivered. Servants who
brought them in struggled to set up a small easel near the bed so Jez wouldn’t
have to get up. He always felt awkward when people were serving him like that,
but this time, the image fit with what he was going for. An old man with ink
stained fingers handed Jez a palette. It held half a dozen colors as well as
three brushes. Jez took the biggest one and dismissed the servants. The healer
was trying to look over Jez’s shoulder, but she left at a wave of Jez’s hand.
He turned and stared at the canvas.

“Go ahead,” Osmund said.

Jez rolled his eyes. “This isn’t really something I
can do on command. Talk to me.”

“What do you want to talk about?”

Jez shrugged. “Anything. Is this your first time in
Rumar?”

Osmund nodded. “I never made it this far inland before.”

“Where else have you been?”

“Mostly the places you’ve been.”

“But you come from the Narian Isles, right?”

“Yes.”

“What were they like?”

“Hot,” Osmund said, though the beginnings of a smile
had formed on his face. “So hot, you thought you were sweating a gallon every
day. There were animals of every kind you could imagine, and jungles so thick
you couldn’t walk through them. I used to hide there when the people got too
hostile because of this.” He waved his hand in front his of face and wrinkled a
nose that was just a little too large. He smiled. “It was nice except for the
people, and the water was so blue you wouldn’t believe it.”

“I did come from a coastal town,” Jez pointed out.
“I’ve seen blue water before.”

“Not like this. It’s almost like the water is made of
sapphire. I think you would like it.” Osmund blinked. “It’s not working.”

“What?”

Osmund pointed at the canvas. “You’re not painting
anything.”

Jez blinked and let out a breath of frustration. The
canvas was still blank, and the brush was dry in his hand. He was tempted to
keep trying, but it wouldn’t do any good. Sariel had locked away his memories
too well, and even if he needed them, they were beyond his reach. He put down
the brush. “What do we do now?”