Michael Stackpole - When Dragons Rage

Lombo sniffed the air, his nostrils widening. “Traces. People here, aside from us.”

“Yes, yes.” Qwc looped once, then landed with great elan between Will’s knees. “Beautiful lady came. Saw her, Qwc did. Beautiful.”

Dranae smiled. “And what did she do, Qwc?”

The Spritha sat down abruptly. “Don’t know. Qwc slept.”

Will nodded. “Touched me. Healed me.”

“Healing requires a lot of magic.” Peri scratched with a talon right beside her right ear. “You had poison in you, and a horrid wound. It left scars.”

“Scars?” Will winced as he spoke more loudly than he should have.

Peri reached over on the bedside table and handed him a small hand glass. Will took it and held it back and away so he could inspect his throat. Qwc lightly leaped over his right knee and helped support the small mirror.

Will got a good look at his throat. Two scars stood out on his neck, each with the fluid patterning of severe burn marks, yet they had regular edges and could each have easily been covered by a small silver coin. When he swallowed, the pain did run from one scar to the other.

He released the mirror, and Qwc toppled backward with the thing on top of him. As the Spritha struggled from beneath it, the thief looked up. “I saw her.” He wanted to say more. He wanted to describe this winter vision of loveliness, with her white hair and pale skin and silver eyes. He wanted to tell them of her touch, which was at once gentle and firm. He wanted to share that all with them, but he realized that even if his throat had been fine, the words to explain would be elusive and insufficient.

Dranae folded his arms across his chest. “That you were healed magickally is beyond question. Resolute was able to detect some basic magick, but could not determine how your healing took place. King Scrainwood sent some of his mages, and someone named Syrett Kar came from the Vilwanese consulate. They said a lot, but told us nothing more than Resolute.”

Will shivered and drew the bedclothes up around him. “Cold. Thirsty.”

Lombo moved to the door. “Thirstbane for Will.”

“Lombo, something hot.” Peri opened the door for him. “Soup if they have it, nothing too strong. And nothing too solid.”

Will nodded and gave the Panqui a smile. The Gyrkyme closed the door, then quickly told Will what little had happened since he had been wounded. She started by assuring him that the ruby fragment was safe, and that Resolute had said that but for Will, it would have been long gone.

Will knew that for a lie, but a kindly one. Resolute would have cursed him for a fool for going after a sullanciri with nothing more than a dagger. Will also caught a hint of hurt in Peri’s voice that Alexia had kept a secret from her, but that she understood why it had been done.

Will was glad to hear that Nefrai-kesh had not been seen again in Meredo, and even more glad that Crow would be released. While he did not like the idea of Scrainwood getting control of a fragment of the DragonCrown, he agreed with the reasoning. It was better to get Crow free and preserve Alcida’s strength than to fight a battle they were destined to lose.

The only true negative was learning that Kerrigan was still missing. Will remembered the trouble Kerrigan had gotten himself into when wandering through the Dim in Yslin. Will had once felt Kerrigan was about as useless as a thief’s promise, but he’d come to see just how powerful he was. He admired Kerrigan’s pluck in getting the fragment out of Fortress Draconis, and very much wanted his opinion on the business of the healing magick.

Dranae draped another blanket over Will and the thief pulled it tight around him. His flesh developed goose pimples and his body began shivering, but that helped him warm up. As he did, the pain in his throat began to slip away. “Feeling better. Thanks.”

Lombo returned with a huge steaming pewter tankard of fragrant soup. Peri eyed it suspiciously because carrot chunks floated within the creamy liquid. She clearly intended to have Lombo take it back, but Will reached for it, so she transferred it from the Panqui to him. “Be careful, Will, it’s hot.”

The thief nodded, then sipped. The steam filled his head and the soup went down easily. It was hot, no doubt about it, but didn’t sear his tongue. He got a piece of carrot, but it had been so well cooked that it just fell to mush in his mouth, and he swallowed it with ease. Easier, in fact, because the soup’s warmth helped soothe his throat further.

He lowered the tankard and Qwc helped steady it, then pulled back and shook his hands. “Hot, hot, hot.”

“Be careful, Qwc.” Will smiled, then turned to the others. “There was a Lady Snowflake.”

Dranae looked at Peri, then shook his head. “I saw nothing. Supposing for a moment that you were seeing things because of the poison…”

The Gyrkyme raised a hand. “Since he was healed, we have to assume someone did it. If Kerrigan had done it, he would have stayed.”

Lombo snorted, then tapped his snout with a finger. “No Kerrigan spoor. Lombo seeking, not finding.”

“Agreed, it was not Kerrigan.” Dranae raked fingers through his dark beard. “The questions are then simple: who did this, why did they do it, and why did they not remain? There was nothing that should have scared them off.”

“Unless it was the sound of us in the other room and the king’s guards leaving.”

“That’s possible, Peri.” The man frowned. “Elves and Vilwanese would have taken credit for saving the Norrington. Wanting to keep the work secret would suggest someone who worked for Chytrine.”

“ Not Nefrai-kesh.” Will shook his head adamantly. He refused to believe his grandfather would have saved him. He thought for a moment and realized it was more complicated than that. He was afraid his grandfather might have saved him just so he could recruit him to Chytrine’s service. That idea sent a chill through him, so he drank more soup.

Peri shook her head. “Unlikely. He seems to like to make his presence known and having you die would advance Chytrine’s cause. Dranae, your explanation for why they did not remain to take credit makes sense. That means there is someone in Chytrine’s camp who opposes her.”

Dranae frowned. “It’s not as simple as that, Peri. Assume, for a moment, that the sullanciri are scheming against one another to gather power. The arachnomorph could have decided to kill Will to win approval for itself. Another sullanciri might want Will alive as a potential rival for his grandfather and father.”

He looked down at Will. “You called her Lady Snowflake. Could it have been Myrall’mara? She can heal, and she is very white.”

Will thought about that for a moment. Myrall’mara had once been a Vorquelf, and certainly was beautiful and slender and even glowed with light. Lady Snowflake had been similar in form, but had a real quality to her that MyralPmara never had. And Will recalled very well the hateful expression the sullanciri wore when she made an abortive attempt to kill him in Yslin.

“No. Not her.” He swallowed more soup, then licked his lips. “She was not a sullanciri . Even with the poison, I know that.”

“So, another player.” Dranae intertwined his fingers, then hooked his hands over the back of his neck. “We don’t know who. We don’t know if she represents a faction or not. We do know she wanted her work hidden.”

Peri nodded. “And we know she is very powerful.”

Will tipped the tankard up and drained the last of the soup from it. He smiled and wiped his mouth on the back of his left hand. “Thanks, Lombo.”

The hulking Panqui nodded solemnly.

Will threw back the bedclothes, catching Qwc in a woolen tidal wave, then swung his legs off the edge of the bed. He’d have slid off it and onto his feet, but Peri firmly planted a hand in the middle of his chest. “Where do you think you are going?”