The Children of the White Lions: Volume 02 - Prophecy (66 page)

Sabine did as Chandrid asked without protest. As they helped lower him back to the bed, Jak’s head began to swim. Within moments, it felt as if the room was spinning. His stomach felt queasy.

“I do not feel good.”

“Let me guess,” said Chandrid. “The room is moving?”

“Quite a lot,” muttered Jak.

“I can help that, but first I must ask your consent to treat you now that you are awake.”

Jak tried to focus on her face, but could not.

“Pardon?”

“It is the way of the aki-mahet. I must ask for permission.”

“Fine. You have my permission.”

“I have not asked properly.”

Jak muttered in exasperation, “Then ask. I’m going to get ill in a moment.”

The hillwoman placed her palms together, bowed slightly, and said, “I, Chandridkerit Mortanggard, former lakari of the Laksoo, ask your permission to tend to your wounds and ease your pain.”

“Please,” mumbled Jak. “Ease my pain.” He was sweating now.

Chandrid peered into the open air above the bed and, a few moments later, dropped her gaze to Jak. The room went blessedly still.

“Better?” asked Chandrid.

“Ever so much,” said Jak. “Thank you.” His head still pounded and his side still ached, but at least he was not going to get ill.

Chandrid nodded, lifted the satchel’s strap over her head, and placed the leather sack on the bed. As she opened the flap and began to rummage inside, Helene half-climbed onto the bed in an attempt to peer inside the satchel.

Looking up to Chandrid, Jak said, “Broedi never asked permission to help me when I got shot by an arrow.”

“He is not lakari.”

“And what is lakari?”

Chandrid halted her rummaging, paused a moment, and then said, “‘Caretaker’ is as close a word as there is in Argot.” She resumed rooting through her satchel.

Reaching up to poke at his bandages, he asked, “And I suppose you are taking care of this?”

Chandrid looked up, gently grasped his hand, and placed it back on the bed.

“Do not do that.”

“I won’t as long as someone tells me what happened,” said Jak. Glancing at Gamin, he asked, “Did you and I have a disagreement?”

The redheaded mage smiled slightly and shook his head.

“No, we did not.”

“Jak?” prompted Chandrid. “Tell me the last thing you remember before today. It will help me evaluate your injury.”

Jak studied the faces of the people standing around him. Lady Vivienne, who had yet to say a single word, was staring at him with bright and intensely curious eyes. Sabine’s blank gaze was directed to the bed, the lines in her forehead and around her eyes betraying a sense of worry. Helene had finished climbing atop the bed and now was lying next to his legs, her head turned toward Sabine alone. Gamin was peering at her, concern in his eyes. A strange sort of tension filled the room and Jak did not understand why.

Shaking his head, Jak said, “I don’t know. My memories are a bit muddied at the moment.”

“Please, Jak,” said Gamin. “Try. You might remember more than you think.”

Jak shrugged his shoulders and sighed.

“Alright. I’ll try.”

He closed his right eye and tried to draw forth the most recent memory he had before waking up here. Remembering the cold and the snow, he began to think aloud.

“Morning drills. I remember finishing morning drills, coming inside, and speaking with Commander Aiden in the hall afterwards.” He halted as most of that conversation came rushing back.

“What did you talk about?” asked Lady Vivienne.

Jak lied.

“I don’t remember.”

There was no need to share the contents of that exchange with everyone.

“What happened next?” prompted Chandrid.

“Well, the commander left and…” His brow—or at least half of it—drew together. “Ah! Sabine found me in the hall and we talked—” He stopped suddenly, remembering that they had spoken extensively of his siblings’ locations and wellbeing. He did not know if Gamin and Chandrid were aware of Kenders’ absence.

Misinterpreting his pause, Chandrid said, “Keep going. You are doing well. What did you and Sabine talk about?”

Sabine answered for him, saying, “Nothing of any importance.”

Opening his eye, Jak added, “Mostly we talked about the snow. Oh, and about heading into Claw for eveningmeal.” The story was plausible enough.

After a quiet moment, Lady Vivienne directed, “Please continue.”

Wondering why she even bothered with the ‘please,’ Jak shut his eye again and tried to remember past the meeting with Sabine. It was a struggle, though. Drawing forth his memories was like trying to snatch a leaf from midair during a raging thunderstorm.

“There was a boom. A large one. Large enough that the hall shook. Then…a second one. We rushed off…” Things were becoming clearer now. He pictured himself and Sabine running through the hall together. “We got to the courtyard door and—” He cut off as a quick series of images flashed though his mind.

Smoke billowing from a gaping hole in the walls.

Snow drifting down as he sprinted across the icy courtyard.

Blood pouring down Gamin’s face.

“We couldn’t find Helene…so I ran into the hall. The smoke was so thick…” He went quiet again, mentally tracing his path through the burning room as it collapsed around him.

Lady Vivienne urged, “Go on, please.”

Her tone prompted Jak to open his eye and lift his head. The baroness’ gaze was locked on him, cool and calculating. She was after something. What, he did not know. He shook off her penetrating gaze and dropped his head to the pillow, cautioning himself to be careful.

Bringing back to mind the burning room, he muttered, “There was a man on the ground.” Jak turned up his nose, remembering the stench of singed and smoking hair. “He was dead.”

Beside him, Helene shifted, reached out to slip an arm around his leg, and hugged him tight. Curious, Jak opened his eyes and stared down at her tiny form. The moment he laid eyes on her, another quick sequence of images flashed through his head, one right after another.

Helene’s crumbled body on the floor.

Her, cradled in his arms.

The perfect, untouched circle of stone on the ground.

He sat up a little more. Helene turned her head to look at him, her brown eyes as round as eveningmeal platters.

She knew.

“Jak?” asked Sabine quietly.

Turning his head, he found the raven-haired beauty staring at him, her eyes brimming with worry. He wondered if she knew. His heart thudded in his chest making his headache swell.

“Go on,” prompted Lady Vivienne. “What do you remember?”

Jak looked back to the baroness. Her anxious expression betrayed her. She had no idea what had happened in the mages hall. None. Gamin either, from the looks of it. Jak wavered a moment, wondering if he should share what he had seen. In less than a heartbeat, he decided to keep things to himself for now. He should talk with Sabine about this first. Alone.

“I…I turned around and saw Helene by a table. I rushed over and picked her up as the ceiling started to collapse. I started to run out and…and…” He trailed off and did his best to appear as if he was trying to think. After what he hoped was a good show, he shook head. “I’m sorry, but that’s all I can remember.”

“You can tell us nothing else?” asked Lady Vivienne. “Nothing about what you saw in the room?”

Jak lifted his head. The baroness stared at him expectantly.

“No, my Lady. I cannot.”

The lines on the baroness’ face lengthened as her expression grew even more suspicious.

“You are
sure
?”

In as even tone he could manage, he said, “Perhaps you might not have noticed, my Lady, but I seem to have had an accident.” He pointed back to the bandages on his head. “A rather significant bump on the head it would seem. So you will forgive me if I cannot seem to remember every detail.” He offered an apologetic smile that was absent any true regret. “I wish I could be of more help.”

The baroness pressed her lips together and gave a tiny huff of a sigh. “Of course you do. I am grateful you are alive and recovering.” Her words contained as much warmth as his smile had conveyed remorse. “You were fortunate, young Jak. The Manes were fortunate. Things could have been much worse. The man you found? Marick? Somehow, he was the lone casualty.”

Jak instantly recognized the name as belonging to Helene’s teacher. He glanced down to the little girl by his side. She squeezed his leg a little tighter.

After a moment, Lady Vivienne sighed again and said, “If you happen to recall anything else, please let Gamin know immediately. He is leading the investigation.” She turned to eye the mage. “Which is proving to be a rather unsuccessful one. Five days have passed and it seems we still have little idea what truly happened.”

Jak’s eye widened.

“
Five
days?”

He started to sit up but was stopped as Chandrid laid a strong hand on his chest.

“Lay down, please.”

Struggling against her restraint, he exclaimed, “I’ve been asleep for
five
days?”

Adding her own appeal, Sabine pleaded, “Please, Jak. Lie still.”

Jak relaxed and dropped his head into his pillow, staring at the rafters overhead.

“Five days? How?”

When Chandrid seemed satisfied that he would not rise again, she released him and said, “To continue your tale where you cannot, you ran from the room as the wall came down. The Stone mages who were able attempted to hold back the rocks as they fell.” Her gaze shifted to his bandages. “One slipped past and struck your head.”

Jak shook his head, muttering, “I don’t remember that.” His claim was legitimate this time.

“That is not unusual,” rumbled Chandrid. “Some souls lose entire days or weeks after such a blow to the head. You are lucky. Ketus was with you, Jak.”

“Lucky?” huffed Jak. “Part of a castle fell on me.”

“Exactly,” said Gamin, his tone somber. “The castle fell on you and you are still alive. I’d consider that lucky, too.”

Sabine murmured, “We thought you might not ever wake up, Jak.”

As Jak turned to stare at her, Helene clambered further up the bed to snuggle beside him, resting her head on his chest. Jak draped his arm over her and hugged her tight, stroking her hair.

Silence stretched out, filling the room. Throughout the extended quiet, Lady Vivienne kept her eyes on Jak and a frown on her lips. Jak pretended as if he did not feel the weight of her gaze, but he did.

Eventually, the noblewoman let out a quick sigh, breaking the silence, and said, “I must be going. Things must be attended to. Quick recovery, young man.”

Inclining his head, he said, “Thank you, my Lady.”

The baroness gave a curt nod, spun around—her blue dress swishing as it swirled—and exited the room, leaving the door open behind her. As she strode down the dark hall, disappearing into its gloom, Jak’s gaze naturally shifted to Gamin. The head mage stood motionless, his arms crossed across his wide chest, and his stare resting on Helene.

Jak eyed his mother and father’s old friend and, keeping his voice neutral, asked, “So you’re investigating the accident?”

Gamin’s gaze shifted ever so slightly to rest on Jak’s face.

“I am.”

“And do you have any theories on what happened?”

Gamin hesitated a moment before taking a quick glance over his shoulder to stare into the hall. Lady Vivienne’s distant footsteps could be heard, but she was out of sight. Turning back to Jak, Gamin said quietly, “I have told the baroness I do not.”

“You did not answer my question.”

Gamin let a long, heavy sigh slip from his lips and murmured, “No, I did not.” His gaze shifted back to Helene and a tiny frown graced his lips. He knew.

Wearing a slight frown of his own, Jak asked, “Why is Lady Vivienne so intent on getting an answer?”

“Because she fears for the safety of the enclave,” answered Gamin. “And she is worried that further incidents might expose us.”

“And what will she do if she finds the cause?” asked Jak.

Gamin’s frown deepened as he muttered, “Whatever she must to protect the Manes.”

Jak stared up at Sabine and found a cold, determined expression on her face. Looking back to Gamin, Jak asked, “Do you have any indications as to what happened in the mages’ hall?”

The head mage eyed Jak and said, “Even if I did, I need some time to verify things before I would bring anything to the baroness. And that should take me a while.”

“How long?” asked Jak.

Gamin raised an eyebrow and gave Jak a tiny lopsided smile.

“Oh, at least until after Broedi returns. Perhaps longer after I speak with him.”

Jak shut his eyes, welcoming the sense of relief that washed over him. Gamin’s message was clear. He was going to hold his tongue.

Opening his eyes, he said gratefully, “Thank you, Gamin. I will owe you.”

“You owe me nothing, Jak. Consider it a partial repayment for the debt I owed your parents. A very partial payment. Without them, I would not be alive today.” He shifted his gaze to Sabine and added, “Please keep a close eye on her, though. And for the time being, no more lessons.”

Sabine nodded.

“Of course. And thank you, Gamin.”

“You are welcome,” said the mage. He took a deep breath, drew himself up, and looked back to Jak. “Quick recovery. Please don’t run into any more burning, collapsing buildings anytime soon.”

“Oh, no,” said Jak with a smile. “At least not for a day or two.”

Gamin grinned, held his stare, and nodded slowly.

“I think you should know that Thad and Marie would have been blasted proud of what you did, Jak. I sure as the Nine Hells am.”

Jak’s smile faded as a sudden swell of emotion surged within him. Gamin’s words were unexpected.

“That’s…that’s a nice thing to say, Gamin. Thank you.”

The room went quiet. An air pocket within a log suddenly burst.

Turning his gaze to Chandrid, Gamin asked, “You will keep this conversation to yourself?”

As difficult as it was to forget a seven-foot tall hillwoman looming over him, Jak had done just that. Swiveling his head to stare up at Chandrid, he found her eyeing him, a small frown on her face. He did not know Chandrid well, but she would have to be a simpleton not to have followed that conversation.