Chapter Text
Talia arrived in Crown City after eight days on the road. She and Rolan had made excellent time. She lead Rolan on foot as they wondered through the city, she was dressed as a well off merchant in the clothes she’d stolen before she fled the encampment. From Ahrodie through Rolan she knew where Dirk was being held, but she needed to find the right spot to hide after she rescued him. She suspected she would need to recover from backlash before making their way to the border. She needed a good place to hide while she did so. That was it! She would rent a suite of rooms at a boarding house near the dungeon. Not ideal, but it would have to do. For now, she would go to an inn and ask about places to rent rooms.
She found a promising looking inn and ventured into the courtyard where she was met with the most welcome sight. It was the wagon of the trader she had saved from the mob, Evan. He had sworn he owed her a life-debt. Well, that was better than a boarding house where she would be expected to attend meals and they might discover Dirk. She turned toward the wagon and knocked on the backdoor.
Just as she hoped, Evan opened the door. “Can I help—“ Then he seemed to recognize her, and that she was not in Whites. “Why don’t you come in Mistress?”
Talia and Evan sat at a small table in his wagon while Talia explained the situation to him and ate the first decent meal she’d had since she left the border. “So can you help me?”
“I owe you a life debt,” he said. “And I can help you. And further I believe I can help you more than you know. I have a cousin who can help as well, but you must not ask too many questions of him, and I must have your word that you won’t use anything you learn about him against him.” Talia gave Evan a questioning look and he sighed and continued. “He’s a good person, he doesn’t hurt people, but he’s in business of procuring hard to find goods, and perhaps of moving them across borders without paying certain taxes?” Talia was relieved that tax dodging and smuggling were all she’d have to turn a blind eye too.
“Agreed,” she said.
Evan let out a relieved, sigh. “Wait here,” he said. “Finish eating while I go get him.”
Evan left then and returned about an hour later with a plain looking man he introduced as Reynold, his mother’s sister’s son. Reynold listened to Talia’s story and then spoke. “How do you plan to rescue him without getting us killed?” Talia explained about her Gift and he nodded. “Give me until mid-afternoon tomorrow, I’ll have a place outside the city lined up for the two of you to recuperate and a delivery van to travel in.
~~
The next day, Talia, Evan, and Reynold entered the courtyard that led to the dungeon with Reynold’s delivery cart, pulled by Rolan. Talia had used her Gift to suggest to all the guards who stopped them that they were the regular delivery to the kitchens, and there was nothing at all for the guards to concern themselves with. They pulled up to a locked gate with a bored looking guard, beyond the gate Talia could sense Dirk.
“Whocher doin’ ‘ere?” Asked the guard. “Ye need to move along.”
Talia could see the keys were on the guards belt, good. If she got rid of him she could go straight in. She reached out with her Gift and knocked him unconscious; he fell and the wagon hid him from view of anyone who chanced by the courtyard. “I’ll be right back,” she said. She stepped down off the wagon, took the keys of the guard’s belt, unlocked the gate and slipped into the dungeon.
The first thing that hit her was the smell of old blood and fear, followed by waves of pain that battered her shields. This was where Dirk was being kept? Three guards were playing cards at a table, they looked up when she came in and reached for their swords, she dropped her shields and let her power scream. All the pain she was feeling from Dirk, all the grief she had felt when she thought he was gone, all the anger she felt at those who would hurt him, she let it out, as Rolan shielded Dirk, Evan, and Reynold from the effects.
The guards fell to the floor convulsing, and still her power raged. It raged until the guards stopped moving. Talia wasn’t too sure why and didn’t really care. She picked up the keys that hung on a cell wall and went to find Dirk.
On the way to find him, she nearly tripped over another guard she hadn’t seen before who now lay motionless on the floor, she thought he might be dead. Maybe she’d care about that later. Using her Gift she located Dirk in a cell down a hall, and opened the door.
Dirk looked terrible. She could smell the infection from the door to the cell even though he lay on the opposite side. The infection was probably killing him, he’d need a Healer very soon if he was to live. And she’d definitely need Evan and Reynold to help her carry him out of there.
~~~
Dirk was dreaming about chirras playing the harp when his pain disappeared and his dream changed. There was Talia. “It’s alright,” she said, “It’s going to be alright.” He was back in the dungeon and Talia was with him. But he wasn’t in pain. Bards said the pain ended when you died and you were greeted by friends. The infections in his wounds must have finally gotten him then. But since when was Talia dead? Or was the Shadow Lover just taking on a familiar form?
“Are you really my little bird? Or are you the Shadow Lover taking on her form?”
“It’s really me, Dirk. We’re going to get you out of here now,” She said. He felt a strange sensation as if he was being lifted through the air, and the walls seemed to change as the room spun but Talia stayed right by his side, that was okay then.
“I should have told you before I died but I love you little bird. I love you so much.”
“I love you too, Dirk. Now rest,” she said, and he thought that seemed like a good idea as he drifted off to sleep.
~~
Kris was worried about Talia’s three hour head start on him and Skif, and that Rolan, being Groveborne, was one of the fastest Companions. But there was nothing he and Skif could do except make the best time that they could following her. They’d been on the road for ten days and were almost to Crown City when Cymry and Tantris suddenly took a side road instead of continuing on the main path to the capital.
:Ah, Featherfoot?: Kris asked his Companion, wondering about the sudden change in direction.
:Rolan is this way for some reason, since Talia is our objective we figured we would go toward him.: Tantris answered the question Kris hadn’t actually asked.
Soon enough they came to a House of Healing. The Companions slowed and walked toward the stable. They entered the stable and sure enough, Rolan was sleeping in one of the stalls. He looked exhausted.
“Can I help you sirs?” That was a man standing in Rolan’s stall. His eyes flicked from Rolan to the newly arrived Companions, then back to Kris and Skif.
“We’re looking for my sister,” Kris was grateful that Talia looked enough like him they could pass for siblings. “She was riding that horse when she left home,” he said, nodding to Rolan. “Looks like me, brown eyes, about this tall, curly hair.”
“Can’t help you,” the man replied gruffly. “This horse was brought in for healing by a local who is most definitely not your sister.” Silently Kris cast Truthspell on the man and a blue mist appeared around him, invisible to the man but visible to Kris and Skif.
“Can you describe the man to me?”
“Why should I? He’s not a horse thief.” That was true. “Anyway, I haven’t seen any woman matching that description.” That was a lie. They were hiding Talia.
“Our horses are exhausted, can we stay here while they rest?” Skif asked.
The man looked at the two Companions and sighed. “Aye, they are exhausted. We’re not an inn, but there are some traders camped over by the well, as well as a few others, we let folk camp there. Your horses had better stay with me in the stable tonight. Have you no sense in how you treat an animal? Get them settled and then I’ll see to them.”
Kris and Skif settled their Companions in the stalls and saw to their needs before going to investigate this camping spot. Hopefully there they would learn something.
Luck was with them, for when they found the spot by the well Kris recognized a very distinctive trader’s wagon. There were two wagons camped by the well, and one of them was that of the man they’d met in Westmark who’d sworn he’d owed Talia a life debt. Kris highly doubted that this man and Rolan being in the same place was chance. Kris signaled to Skif to stay back and approached the two wagons, out front of which two men were sitting.
As he got closer, Kris saw that indeed, one of the men was the trader in question—Evan, that was his name. “Pardon me, do you remember we met in Westmark?”
“Aye, I remember, your partner saved my life,” Evan said.
“I’m looking for her now, I believe she may need help,” Kris said. “I was wondering if you’d seen her.”
“And what are your intentions once you find her?”
“I wish to make sure she’s alive and that she stays that way,” Kris said.
“He with you?” Evan nodded toward Skif. At Kris’ nod he continued. “Call him over and we’ll talk to both of you.” Kris motioned Skif over and Evan continued.
The other man spoke up then. “The lady promised not to ask too many questions, do I have your word on the same?” Kris was a little nervous giving his word on such a vague request, but did as asked as did Skif, niether of them saw much choice. “Come on then,” the man said, standing up.
He lead them into the House of Healing, where he whispered something to a Healer, then escorted them to a work room. In the work room he moved aside a rug and showed them a trapdoor in the floor. Pulling open the trapdoor, he revealed a set of stairs leading down. He motioned for them to go on ahead of him.
Kris and Skif headed down the stairs, which were light by a few lanterns on the wall. The air was cool down here, but surprisingly not damp. At the bottom of the stairs was a hallway going in two directions; they waited for the trader to come down. He did so after closing the trap door behind him. “You’ll stay down that way, but first I imagine you’ll want to check on your friends?” Kris hadn’t missed the use of the plural, and a quick glance at Skif showed he hadn’t either. Was Dirk here? Had Talia been successful in rescuing him by herself?
“Yes, let’s check on them first.” Kris said.
The man lead them to another door, and into a room. It was also lit by lanterns and in the center of the room was a large bed. In the bed was Dirk, heavily bandaged and unconscious, and next to him slept Talia.
Once they had seen the two sleeping Heralds, the man lead them back out of the room and shut the door. “What’s wrong with them? Asked Skif.
“Well, he was tortured and near dead of infection when we found him. I think he thought he was actually dead when he saw her, said somethings to that. The Healers used their power to burn out the infection but the rest will take time. And they say she’s used too much magic. She told us herself she would need to recover after she rescued him because of that.”
~~~
Kris and Skif waited in the other room, the one they were to sleep in, until the Healer in charge of Dirk and Talia was able to come down and talk to them. It was a storage room really, with bags of—something—though the man, who’d finally introduced himself as Reynold, had brought them bedding. Finally, a Healer came down.
“So you’re our new guests? You’re Heralds? Like the others?” At their nod he continued. “Well, we’ll hide you. We’ll need to get your not-horses into woods before the soldiers decide to expand their search outside of Crown City, right now they think Dirk is still in Crown City.”
“They’re searching for him then?”
“Yes, and they think it was a witch who broke him out, not that I blame them, I didn’t even know that Mindhealers could kill people with their Gift.”
Kris absorbed this news, next to him he felt Skif’s shock. “What’s their prognosis look like? Do you know when they’ll be able to travel?”
“She just has backlash, I expect her to wake up in a few hours and we’ll get some tea in her before letting her sleep some more. Actually if I could put you in charge of that that would be good. We still have a whole House of Healing to run upstairs. As for him, he’ll survive, we got rid of the infections that were killing him. He’ll scar, there’s no way to avoid that. And his left foot was crushed. If we’d gotten to it sooner—before it started to heal wrong—and if we could spare more Healers for just him he might have had a better outcome on that. As it is—he might walk again with a cane. We’ll do our best.”
Kris thought of how much Dirk had enjoyed dancing, of how Alberich had trusted him to teach advanced students, and tried not to wince. “If you can keep him from any more wrong healing, they’ll be able dedicate more Healers to his care once we get back to Valdemar,” Kris said.
“If that’s the case, he may definitely have a shot of walking with a cane.” The Healer said. “He’ll probably wake up in about two days, he’s in a Healing trance right now.”