Scent of Magic
Page 80

 Maria V. Snyder

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Eventually Kerrick was left with a single spoke. But he used it like a sword. Avoiding the sharp edge of Olave’s weapon, Kerrick countered along the flat of his blade. Kerrick snaked in past his defenses a few times, rapping him on the arm and poking him in the stomach. Olave didn’t have Noak’s skill or finesse. Each touch increased his fury. A part of Kerrick knew this fight wouldn’t end well for him, but he was having too much fun goading him.
Despite Kerrick’s skills, a sword beats a wooden stick every time. Olave unarmed him and pressed the dadao’s tip into the hollow at the base of his throat.
“Olave, my father has him under our protection,” Noak said.
“He should die,” he said.
“That is not your decision.”
“Nor yours, princeling. You shouldn’t have brought him here.” Olave traced the four scars on Kerrick’s neck with the blade’s tip. “These marks mean he’s lucky. Nothing more.”
“Even so. He is protected.” Noak put his hand on the hilt of his dadao.
Olave stepped back. “Not for long. Once I marry your sister, I will challenge your father, and take his place.”
Noak laughed. Kerrick stared in amazement. The man did know how to smile.
“It will be your right to test my father,” Noak said. “But consider, a man armed with only a chair almost defeated you.”
“I spared your pet dog. For now. Once I’m leader, he’ll be the first to go, followed by you.” He left without saying another word.
Kerrick touched his throat. The cuts burned, and blood coated his fingers, but they didn’t seem deep enough to worry about.
Danny stared at his neck with a strange expression. He reached toward Kerrick with an intense focus. Kerrick recognized the significance of it. He had seen that same avid gaze on Avry’s face before she healed someone with her magic.
Kerrick grabbed Danny’s arm, making sure he didn’t touch the boy’s skin. If Danny healed him in front of Noak, then they’d never let Danny go free.
CHAPTER 16
Estrid had a day to decide to either accept the unconditional surrender or to condemn us all to death. The atmosphere sizzled with tension and fear. But for me, that day passed in a watery blur. As I checked on my patients, tears leaked until they built up so much pressure I had to run to my room to muffle my sobs. Most of the people in the infirmary believed I was upset about the potential surrender, and I didn’t bother to correct them as I stumbled through the day like one of Tohon’s dead.
My thoughts kept returning to what Cellina had told me. At first, I had thought she lied just to be cruel. But she had described Kerrick’s death with such horrific detail. Plus she had his sword. The one his father had gifted to him. Kerrick would never part with it willingly.
Sleep was impossible. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw an image of Kerrick being torn apart by a pack of ufas. Grief and guilt filled me until I thought I’d burst into a thousand pieces. Giving up, I returned to the infirmary. I hadn’t had a good rest in days, and I doubted one was in my future.
While my patients slept, I organized the supplies and prepared the morning’s round of medicines. When I exhausted all those tasks, I returned to my room, settled on my bed and sorted through my meager possessions. If Estrid surrendered, I had no doubt I would be claimed by Tohon and would need my pack.
The gloves Belen had given me caused tears to flow. I crushed them in a fist, hoping he was still alive. Perhaps I could ask Cellina if he’d been captured when she returned for Estrid’s answer.
I found the Death Lily’s toxin sacks as I dug deeper in my pack. Why had the Death Lily given them to me? The toxin wouldn’t work on Tohon’s dead soldiers, and I wouldn’t use it on anyone living. Well...I’d love to inject it into Tohon, except he was immune. I placed the sacks on the night table, considering.
Tohon would have no qualms about using these to threaten and/or torture his enemies since almost everyone pricked by the poison suffered a long, horrible death. And those few who survived turned into healers. That was the theory. Tohon had been trying to create more healers, but I had destroyed his garden of Death Lilys and rescued Danny and Zila—the only survivors of his horrendous experiment—before it could be proven. It might be years before we’d know for sure.
I should destroy the sacks so Tohon couldn’t confiscate them. Yet, the Lily had wanted me to have them. I mulled over what else I’d learned about the toxin. When Tohon had injected it into me, my body had reacted as if I was inside a Death Lily. My consciousness had floated free from my body, but my body had obeyed Tohon’s commands. When I’d witnessed Tohon creating his dead soldiers, he’d injected something into them before freezing them in a magical stasis, keeping their bodies from decomposing.
Rolling one of the sacks along the table, I remembered believing he had used the Death Lily toxin to animate the dead, but they had no consciousness to detach. Plus he froze them so the toxin wouldn’t work. Except the substance he’d injected had worked despite the stasis.
The Death Lily had also made a point to show me that the Peace Lilys didn’t bring me and Flea back to life...well, not technically. That it had been a combination of the serum and a touch.
Tohon had hundreds of Peace Lilys growing all around his castle in Sogra. What if Tohon had injected Peace Lily serum into someone who had died? Horror welled. Were they really alive?
No. With a shudder I recalled their lifeless gazes, black blood and rotting smell when they’d been decapitated. Not alive, but able to understand and follow orders. Why? Tohon had touched them after administering the serum. I’d assumed he was putting them into a stasis to keep them from decomposing, but what if it was the serum that kept them from rotting? Flea had been inside the Lily for six months and had been perfectly preserved!