He stopped at the entrance. “They’ve been poisoned with Death Lily toxin.”
“Why do you think that?” I asked.
“They reek of anise, are covered with sweat, and remind me of the kids at King Tohon’s. The ones who didn’t live.”
Tohon had injected Death Lily toxin into young children, hoping a few would survive and become healers.
“Go ahead and touch one. See if you get anything different.”
Reluctance dragged at his feet.
“They’re not contagious to healers,” I assured him.
Biting his lip, Danny pressed two fingertips to the closest man’s temple. “Oh. It’s not the toxin. But it’s similar. He’s going to die. Can I heal him?”
“No!” I batted his hand away. “He has a form of the plague. If you take his sickness, then you’ll die.”
Horror welled in his eyes. “The plague’s back?”
I explained about the new strain. “I think something protected the survivors of the first plague, but they are vulnerable to this one. And I believe this one has to be injected into the body to work.”
“And why am I safe?” Danny asked.
“As a healer, you’re immune to Death Lily toxin, which is at the heart of this plague.” But as I said those words, I wondered if they were true. After all, I had died after I’d assumed the plague from Ryne. There must be something else that protected them from contracting the disease. If I could figure it out, I could cure the plague.
Danny yawned. I told him to wash his hands and go find a place to sleep. “Loren and Quain have their bedrolls set up in the small cavern to the left of the cave’s entrance if you want to join them.”
“But the patients—”
“Are fine for now. Don’t worry. I won’t hesitate to wake you if you’re needed.”
Unhappy, but all out of arguments, Danny scrubbed and then left. I checked on each of the men and made them as comfortable as possible for the evening. My bedroll had been set up near the cavern’s entrance so I’d be close by if needed by my caregivers or the patients.
I considered the problem of the plague as I washed my hands. The water felt colder than normal, causing my finger bones to ache. The sensation crept up my arms. I hugged them to my chest and turned to face the reason for the iciness.
Noak stood a few feet away. Shivers threatened to break out, but I clamped down on my emotions. There was no need to fear this man.
I shooed him out of the cavern, explaining about the danger. When we reached a safe distance, I stopped. “Do you need something?”
“Your hand,” he said, holding out his own.
“Oh.” Not sure how I could refuse without insulting him, I placed my right hand in his, bracing for the blast of ice. He didn’t disappoint. I stiffened as the now-familiar wave of frigid cold raced through me.
Noak’s grip tightened. “There’s another.”
“Another what?”
“Bond. Deep inside, but there.” Noak thumped his chest.
“Bond?”
“You are linked to Magic Man and this other.”
Fear melted the ice. “Who?”
“Another man of magic. Stronger than Magic Man, but his link to you is weaker for now.”
Tohon? But he was encased in a stasis. Or so we believed. “How do I break that link?”
“This other must die.”
KERRICK
A teapot crashed to the hearth, shattering into pieces—just like Kerrick’s thoughts.
“Belen’s here?” he asked Mom.
Mom frowned at the destroyed teapot. Small shards littered the bricks around Flea’s feet. “No. He left a few days ago.”
Flea jumped down. “Where did he go?”
“South to spy on that nasty Skeleton King.” Mom tsked. “I told him to wait until he was fully healed, but the big oaf had it in his thick head to go investigate.”
Now Kerrick needed to sit down. He sank into a chair. “Wait. Belen’s injured?”
She glanced at Kerrick and then Flea. “My goodness, didn’t you get my message?” Mom clasped her hands together. “No wonder you’re in such a state.”
“Can you start at the beginning, please?” Kerrick asked.
“Of course, dearie. Mr. Belen arrived at my door about a week after midsummer’s day. The poor man’s head was cracked open. He had dozens of cuts, bruises, and a handful of stab wounds. His right arm had been broken in two places and his left ankle was shredded. Something had chewed right through his leather boot.” She shook her head. “Those injuries should have killed him. But there he stood, swaying on his feet, dripping blood on my clean floors and insisting all he needed was a piece of pie and a good night’s sleep.”
Kerrick smiled. “That’s Belen.”
“We managed to get him into a bed before he collapsed. He slept for so long, I’d feared he’d never wake up.”
“How long?” Flea asked.
“Two months! I sent a message to Avry right after he’d arrived.”
“Zabin was under attack then,” Flea said.
“I heard the news later, and figured it was the reason Avry didn’t come. But I’d hoped the note made it to her.”
Kerrick considered. The message was probably intercepted by Tohon’s army, which would explain why Tohon lied to Avry about Belen getting captured. He’d known Belen’s situation and location.