Hump rushed back into the apartment and fell to his knees next to Celaine’s bed. She was still unconscious. Her breathing was shallow but steady, with any luck, that meant that her life wasn’t in danger. He placed a hand on her head, it was cold to the touch. Far too cold.
“Celaine,” he called. “Celaine! Can you hear me, Celaine? You need to wake up!”
No response.
Nisha whined behind Hump and he glanced backwards to see her head down and her tail flat against the ground. He sensed the worry through their bond. The fear.
“She’ll be alright,” Hump told her, trying to convince himself as much as Nisha. “You did fantastic today, little one. Just wait a little longer.”
Nisha hopped up onto the bed at Celaine’s feet, huffing as she nuzzled at Celaine’s foot beneath the blankets. She lay down, pressing her body up against Celaine’s side, careful not to put too much weight on her. She could sense how cold Celaine was too.
Simple solutions first, Hump thought. Her body was cold, yet he couldn’t see a physical injury. If it was a warlock that had attacked her, maybe her soul was their target. In which case, it might have suffered damage.
Hump stood and raised his staff over Celaine, holding it so that the Silver Sprig gifted to him by Owalyn dangled over her chest. He envisioned her body basking in its power, mending what woes she’d suffered, and then he let its power loose. The silver of the first leaf cracked with green light, leaking out through the veins in thin lines. In moments, the silver turned to green as if dissolved, and the room erupted with brilliant light. One leaf… two… yet still Celaine didn’t wake. After the third, he stopped. It didn’t seem to be having an effect and he didn’t want to waste all of them before a professional healer arrived to confirm she was fine. Perhaps a more targeted application might be necessary then.
Kneeling, he felt her head again. She was definitely warmer now. Thinking that the essence may have helped, Hump placed a hand on her forehead and the other at the top of her chest, channelling a steady supply of essence into her. A minute passed, and she grew warmer still. He tried calling her name and gently shaking her shoulder, but she remained entirely relaxed, like someone that had been knocked out rather than asleep.
Perhaps it’s not an injury at all, but some sort of spell, Hump realised.
Activating Spirit Sight, Hump immediately realised how true that was. Small runes marked Celaine’s head, glowing faintly with the same dark essence that their attacker had used. He cursed himself for not thinking of it sooner. It should have been the first thing he did.
He leant in, inspecting them closer to try and decipher their function. There was something strange—a distortion that made it impossible for Hump to properly read even with the enhancement to his eyes, as if the runes were veiled. As he focused on them, he sensed the faintest intent within, though he couldn’t grasp its purpose. Annoying, but it meant it was probably fairly weak.
Hump stood again and aimed his staff at her head. The focus crystal rippled with pure essence, building until it spiralled in ghostly streaks within. Fixing it with the intent to unravel and destroy, he unleashed it upon the formation on Celaine’s head. The runes glowed brightly for a moment, and then the essence shattered, dissipating into the air.
Celaine turned her head to the side, face wincing.
“Celaine?” Hump asked, shaking her. “You with us?”
Celaine groaned, blinking painfully against the light of Hump’s staff. She raised a hand to blot it out and looked at Hump. “What’s going on? Why are you holding that in my face?”
Hump let out a relieved sigh, lowered his staff, and withdrew his essence. He laughed, clasping her raised hand and returning it to the bed. “Nothing. Don’t worry. We had a little bit of an issue, but I handled it.”
“Good,” she mumbled. “I’m tired… I… I think I need to sleep some more. Just tell me…”
She was out before she finished the sentence.
“Just sleep,” Hump whispered. He turned to Nisha, smiled, and petted her head. She didn’t move her head from Celaine’s lap, but her eyes flicked up at him, anxious like he’d never seen her. “She’s alright, little one. But you take care of her for a bit, okay? Stay here.”
Hump slipped out of the room, his footsteps quiet on the carpeted floor as he went to the entrance to their apartment. The guards were gone. He checked the hallway, then half closed the door. He wouldn’t have much time alone with the body, so he needed to use that time to figure out what he could.
The room was thick with the acrid stench of charred flesh, singed hair, and fresh blood. Their attack lay on the floor in the doorway, his limbs splayed out around him. Where Hump’s Lava Coils had wrapped around the man’s arms and torso, they had seared down to the bone, leaving deep, charred lacerations.
Dark blood pooled on the floor, seeping into the scorched and blackened carpet that surrounded the corpse. A vase of flowers had shattered in the chaos, spilling petals and water that now mixed with the dead man’s blood, creating murky streaks. In the doorway, a long, savage wound carved through the floor and wood, running raggedly up the wall like a monstrous claw. Splinters of wood and stone covered the floor in debris.
Hump stepped over the body and into his room, putting on his battle robes and attaching his spellbook to his belt. He opened the curtains, letting in a little of the sun’s light as it crept over the horizon. Returning to the body, he held his staff out and used Wizard’s Light.
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His stomach twisted at the wounds, the man’s flesh partially detached from the bone where his whips had gouged into him. It was a horrible thing to do to another person, and a reminder of just how devastating lava magic could be. Hump squatted down and inspected the man’s face. He didn’t appear Alveronian—the slight squint to his eyes made Hump think of the Nileshi to the south, but this man’s skin wasn’t so dark. He hadn’t met many Northmen, but those he had met were tall, broad, and with skin as pale as snow.
The man wore a clean tunic over a thin vest, and simple brown trousers. He could have passed as an average man on the streets. Even the slant to his eyes was only obvious up close. Hump searched him, finding a dagger on his belt, a few bits of coin, and an enchanted amulet around his neck. Taking the amulet, Hump left the rest of his items undisturbed.
Hump examined the man for any other indications of who he might be. Finding nothing, he rolled the man onto his front. There, under his left shoulder blade, was a tattoo. It was a complex emblem—a blend of sharp geometric lines and fluid, swirling patterns. At its centre was a rope in the shape of a circle. Hump recorded the tattoo in the Book of Infinite Pages, manipulating the ink with the image in his mind to create a perfect replication. He was about to put his book back on his belt, when he remembered the runes on Celaine’s head only visible with Spirit Sight activated.
Empowering his eyes, Hump took a second look at the tattoo, smiling at the additional details revealed. The ring of rope was no rope at all, but a silver serpent coined around itself and biting its own tail. Two miniscule runes glowed silver in its eyes. Surrounding the snake, the lines and swirls transformed into three layers of runes, pulsing gently with essence. The mixture of harsh lines and round shapes was a language Hump didn’t recognise, but he sensed the magic within. Wherever this man was from, it seemed their understanding of magic might be different from his own.
Surprisingly, his spellbook didn’t reveal anything about the formation either. It seemed it couldn’t identify the language. Seeing it on the page, however, Hump couldn’t help but see a similarity to the circles and blessings granted to Chosen. It lacked the clear structure of circles divided into major and minor blessings, but the spiral structures branched away from the centre in distinct layers, almost like the crystal structure of a snowflake.
Footsteps climbed the stairs outside—a few people on their way. Hump stowed his spellbook, deactivated Wizard’s Light, and quickly rolled the body back into the position he’d found him. He closed Celaine’s door and then went to stand in the entrance of their apartment. The older guard that had knocked at the door came up first, a woman in a casual red dress with white sleeves following behind. She looked to be about thirty. With her was a younger man in a mixture of leather and plate armour.
“Are you the wizard?” the woman asked.
“Yes. My name is Humphrey Woodrow.”
“I hear you’ve had some unfortunate company this evening, Humphrey. I’m Gia Harbrin, Chosen of Avaroth. This is my assistant, Denton Keth. Hopefully we can resolve this matter swiftly.”
Hump opened the door and invited them in. Gia wrinkled her nose at the sight of the body, then started asking questions. What happened? What did they want? How did they get into the apartment in the first place? Hump recounted events as best as he could, but he got the impression that the two didn’t trust him.
“Is your companion still here?” Denton asked, stepping toward Celaine’s door.
Hump stepped in front of Celaine’s door protectively. “She is. She was under the attacker’s spell which I’ve managed to dispel. She must rest now.”
“I’ll need her to tell her side of the story too,” the woman said.
“Then you’ll need to wait.” Hump’s voice was tinged with irritation. “Did you not hear me?”
“I need to do my job,” Gia said. “And elements of your story aren’t lining up. You say that you know nothing about who this man is or why he attacked you, but his front is smudged with blood. You must have searched him.”
“He didn’t die immediately,” Hump said. “He rolled around before he passed. That’s all you’re getting. We are guests of Count Daston. You will not disturb her. If you have an issue, take it up with the count.”
The woman gave him an annoyed frown then nodded toward the door to her assistant. The two walked over to the hallway, whispering to each other. To ordinary ears, it would have been too quiet to hear, but while not as sensitive as Celaine’s, Hump’s dragon blood had strengthened his hearing enough for this.
“He’s clearly lying,” Gia whispered.
“What do we do about it?” Denton asked. “Force our way in?”
The woman shook her head. “Even if we tried, I’m not sure we’d win. Did you see the marks on the walls and the state of those wounds? He may be young, but our wizard friend here is powerful. We’ll contact Count Daston’s estate and see if we can get some instruction.”
The man didn’t seem pleased by the arrangement.
Gia looked at Hump. “Wait here please.”
Hump gave her a pleasant smile. “Of course.”
He decided against sending a message to the rest of his party. There was nothing they could do to help, and Celaine would be fine once she’d rested. Best to let them sleep. Instead, Marcela soon arrived, bringing with her a Chosen of Emirai.
“Hump,” she said, relief on her face at the sight of him. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, it’s him that’s not so good.” Hump glanced over at the man. “Sorry about your carpet.”
Marcela gazed at the body. “No, I’m sorry about this. You should have been safe here—this is one of my father’s properties. I’ll ensure stern words are had with the guards and staff to figure out how your attacker even got in.”
“It’s not your fault, but thank you,” Hump said, uncomfortable at the sincerity of her words, especially when he knew the reason they’d been targeted. It was certainly nothing the Dastons could have predicted.
“More importantly, how is Celaine?” Marcela asked.
“She was put under a spell. I’ve dispelled it, and now she’s sleeping. I think she will be alright.”
“Should I get the healer to take a look anyway?” Marcela asked.
Hump considered it. He’d used the Silver Sprig so was quite confident that she hadn’t suffered physical damage, but one could never be too careful. He went to the door to Celaine’s room and let them in. Nisha growled on the bed as the healer approached, until Hump cut her short.
“Don’t worry,” Hump said to the healer. “She won’t bite.”
The man gave him a frightened face and did a ring around the bed, staying as far away from Nisha as he could. The room filled with the warmth of Emirai, the man’s essence pouring over Celaine.
“I can’t sense anything wrong with her physically or spiritually,” the man said. “She appears to be a perfectly healthy young woman.”
The fact that Celaine hadn’t woken at their presence was enough to know that wasn’t quite true, but the verdict of a professional still helped to put his mind at ease. They stepped back out into the living room.
“Right,” Marcela said. “Give me a few hours and I’ll arrange for new accommodations for you both.”
“There’s really no need.”
Marcela touched his arm and squeezed. “Hump, there’s no way I’m letting you stay in this place. It stinks of blood and you left a corpse in the sitting room. Now, while I have you here, I need you to attend a meeting with me in a few hours if you’re up for it.”
“Oh? What about?”
“The plans for the siege have been revealed,” Marcela said. “After your success against the warlocks at the docks, your party has been requested as part of an operation to infiltrate the Infernal Halls through a dungeon node. We’ve discovered a way to get behind the gate and open them from the inside.”