Page 116 of Sword & Shadow
The men hurried to help untie Auden and lower him to the hard ground, Ilain hovering the entire time. A flurry of questions rang out from their friends, but Ilain’s were the most pressing. “Is he all right?” she demanded.
Evylin informed her of what the sellswords’ leader told her about the drug and pointed out his wounds.
“How did this happen?” Thom asked as Ilain pushed him out of the way to kneel next to her brother.
“Blount put out a writ,” Deckard explained. “There’s a bounty on our heads now.”
Rafferty’s white-blond brows rose. “For how much?”
Evylin scoffed. “You can’t turn yourself in for gold.”
“Gold, eh?”
Ilain looked up from checking Auden’s vitals. “He’s stable,” she said, her tone tender as she cared for her brother. “The wounds aren’t fatal by any means, and he should rouse shortly. Though I’d like to string up the Time Mages who concocted this strain.”
“Time Mages made this drug?” Ethenn asked.
Carefully, Ilain propped her cloak under Auden’s head. “Viastasis,” she named the narcotic. “It was originally intended for surgery. It puts you in stasis, locking you in time while the rest of the world goes on. However, this particular strain is specifically designed to torment Mages. It feeds off your magic,keeping it running longer than it should, and there’s a dose of Night magic mixed in to give you nightmares.”
That explained why Auden’s face looked as though he were fighting off inner demons, his pale skin wan and coated with a layer of sweat as his eyes stared blankly ahead.
Ethenn’s brow furrowed with concern. “Is there anything we can do to help?”
“No,” Ilain said, brushing Auden’s damp and stringy hair off his forehead. “We just have to wait while it works out of his system.”
The highlady took vigil over her brother, whispering softly and comfortingly as she tended to his injuries with small bursts of Day magic. The rest of the troop gave them space, huddled by the entrance. They spoke quietly so as not to disturb the siblings.
“Do you think he’ll be all right?” Thom asked worriedly.
Deckard wondered if it were more for the highlord’s condition or the highlady’s emotional state. “I’m sure he will,” he said. “Ilain wouldn’t be so calm if he were in any real danger.”
“They needed us alive,” Evylin added. “That’s what the writ requires: alive for confirmation.”
“You were lucky to get out of there unscathed,” Rafferty noted, an uncharacteristic seriousness to his tone.
“We sustained injuries of a different sort,” Deckard said with remorse. He reached up to remove the Night Relic from around his neck. Handing the Relic to Rafferty, he swallowed his shame to take up his duty as leader. “We can’t take any more risks. Until we’re back in Ephria, we can’t enter any more settlements.”
“But,” Ethenn frowned, “that would mean we can’t restock.”
Deckard nodded. “Blount’s writ puts us in too much danger. It bore sketches of Evylin, Auden, and Ilain, meaning none of them can enter. I may be able to get by with a subpar accent, but I don’t know the customs well enough. It’d be too easy for us to get it wrong.”
The other four Ephrians murmured in agreement.
“Can we make it without the extra supplies?” Thom asked.
“We’ll have to,” Deckard said.
Thom grimaced. “Allore help us if one of these horses throws a shoe.”
Evylin ran a hand through her hair. “This is my fault,” she muttered.
“No,” the brothers said at the same time.
Deckard met Thom’s stare, and he backed down.
Turning to Evylin, Deckard forced his comforting hand to remain at his side. “No, the writ is keeping us out of the settlements, not you,” he insisted. “I’m the one who suggested purchasing tents. Your presence changed nothing.”
Evylin’s head hung low, but she didn’t argue.
