Disclaimer: Alas! They are not my characters (mostly) and it is not my made up world. I'm just having my way with them. laughs evilly
Chapter 17 - SecretsNumair was extremely tired. Shortly after arriving in the crescent shaped harbor of Rajmuat, he had found lodging at a shipping inn. The stone building was one of the older establishments on the waterfront and it had built a reputation for maintaining anonymity. He had taken a room and had barely settled down to sleep when Alanna had contacted him. He wondered if any of his friends were injured. Alanna had not mentioned it, one way or the other.
His power was a lot lower than he would have liked. Clearly he would use most of it to transport with the focus. That left him little for blasting. He was glad he had brought some powder packs. The chemical bundles could cause explosions similar to low level mage fire, but required no gift to power them.
He double checked his herb packs and tried to think of anything that might help him. He attached the dagger guard to his ankle and sheathed the blade. Then he saw the two jars Alanna had sent. He decided it might be wise to drink some of the tea now. If it could help him recharge, it certainly couldn't hurt. It would delay him a few minutes but it was a necessary delay as it might save Michael's life if all went bad.
As he prepared the tea his mind drifted to the events of last night. He wondered if Daine had accepted his apologies or not. The idea that she might not made him ache. Somehow he knew he did not want to go back if she had not. It was foolish, but he was growing used to being foolish where Daine was concerned. Maybe foolish was okay as long as it did her no harm. He wondered if she would date Perin Porter. Would they marry and have children? Would he be able to live with that inevitability? He was suddenly painfully aware that he would not. He would have to leave Tortall if Daine were to take a husband. That might be the smart thing to do anyway. And yet he knew that all she would have to do is ask and he would come running back to be her fool again.
He drank the last of his tea and pulled out the locket. Centering his mind on the focus, his black fire burned from the core of his being and time and space bent. There was a sharp tug through the center of him and his feet left the ground. He lost all sense of gravity, as if he was floating in a vacuum. Light swirled before his eyes, shooting violently past, and then faded away to blackness. His feet touched solid ground. Dizzy and blind, he struggled to get a sense of where he had landed. Then he realized that his blindness was due to the fact that he was in a darkened room with no windows or other source of light.
He listened for any noise, and heard only raspy breathing. He wanted to use his gift to light his way, but it was inadvisable. He did not know if anyone unfriendly was in the vicinity and he did not know what power he would need to retain for escape.
The boy's prison was windowless and damp. It smelled of mildew and decay. The raspy breathing seemed to be right behind him. He felt into the darkness, and realized that he heard the scratching of rats. One thing was certain, if Daine found nothing redeeming in rats, then Numair could hardly trust their presence.
His eyes slowly adjusted enough to show him the boy was being held in filth. This was not the kind of prison you kept someone in if they were intended to live. The thought sickened him. Rats crawled over all the surfaces including a small lump on the floor. His heart leapt to his throat when he realized that the three year old boy he was seeking was that lump. Fury grew inside him as he grabbed the sleeping child, tossing rats in every direction.
He was alive, but it could barely be called that. "Michael," he whispered. The boy only stirred. He could see rat bites on his small face and open, weeping sores. The child weighed practically nothing and his skin was translucent from malnutrition. Placing his hand on the boys face, he realized that Michael was burning up with fever.
Numair tested the walls with his magic. They repelled the power right back into him. This was a dungeon of some sort and the walls had been spelled to trap Gifted prisoners. This would hardly be a problem as he had the powder packs, but he needed to figure out which wall to blow apart. And then, as if something had whispered in his ear, he realized with dread where he was. This was the Kyprin Castle. The Kyprin rulers were in on this scheme. When the powder packs blew apart, the castle guard would descend upon him in hoards.
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To say that Jon was a little unhappy about the things that had taken place in Corus in the last 24 hours, was like saying that hurricanes were accompanied by a little rain. He thundered and raved at Alanna, George, Onua, Sarge and Daine. Daine felt worst for Sarge, who had come to their rescue without the slightest idea of what he was getting himself into.
Duke Baird had been dispatched to see to Elyra, who was unconscious. There was something extremely curious in that there was blood all over the floor by where she had been found, but no visible wound to explain its existence. Her face looked as perfect as ever and yet Zek had described the punch Master Tyrus had inflicted on her as having been to her face.
Alanna had sent for Simu-Numair, who now stood stiffly in the corner of the room while Jon examined him. Daine could tell he was impressed in spite of his anger. The magical working was genius. Simu-Numair even appeared to breath. Changing her ears to that of a bat, Daine listened for a heart beat -- he had one of those too. He was both fascinating and disturbing. He looked like her friend in every respect, but he was not even real.
"You do realize that the very war you claim to have been trying to avoid will likely be forced upon us now?" Jon was yelling.
"Well, what did you want us to do, Jon? Let them beat her to death?" Alanna shot back hotly.
"I don't think you get it. Of the eight nobles sent to our shores to discuss peace, five are dead, one is missing, one is in the dungeon and the last is in the infirmary."
"Yes, we know that Jon."
"Calm down everyone, please." Thayet begged.
"Jon, I hate bein' sucker punched too," George began, "But what you gotta' ask y'rself is what ya' woulda' wanted if ya' had known about the little boy."
Jon took a deep and frustrated breath. "I would have wanted to help him, of course."
"That's fair close to what Numair said you would want," Daine spoke up. "Only he said you couldn't attempt sending a rescue team inside a country without risking war. Was he wrong?"
"No," Jon acquiesced. "That's the most annoying thing about it all."
Daine saw Alanna stifle a laugh.
"Has Numair arrived on the Islands?" Thayet asked.
"Yes. He was resting when I spoke to him. He might even have the boy by now," Alanna answered.
"I want to talk to him. Can that stone work for all of us to see him?" Jon asked.
"Let's find out." Alanna held out her palm, building a bubble of magic around the opal. This time she didn't find his face inside or anything. She called to him, "Numair, where are you?" and waited. There was no answer.
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Elyra awoke to the probing magic of Duke Baird. She was disoriented but immediately shouted, "Michael, Meesha, where are they?"
"Ssshhhhh," the healer soothed. "Meesha is still in the nursery safe and sound. Was it Michael you asked about? I don't know who that is."
She lay back against the pillow. Her face was painful and swollen. Without really realizing what she was doing, she reached to her cheek and touched it gingerly.
"I'm glad you're awake now," Duke Baird remarked. "I could do a lot more to help you if you would let the spell go." He must have seen fear in her eyes because he next offered, "Don't worry. You're secret is safe. We don't judge people here. Now let me help you."
Wordlessly, she let go of the magic. She heard him take the sharp intake of breath that always accompanied a look at her true face. But he was far too kind to say anything derogatory.
"This looks painful. I will help you as much as I can."
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Hahahahaha! Did you see that coming? Please reply.