Strip Search
Remember that as much power as wizards of the Crux carry, our authority does not supersede the Crown. When dealing with the Crown or any of its representatives, it’s imperative you show them proper respect. We are, at the end of the day, servants to the Kingdom of Straetham.
Fundamentals of Magic by Eroland Lockhart
I WATCH WITH A NUMB sort of shock as Nik digs through my pack.
He tosses my spare clothes aside before he finally pulls out the rest of my spell strands.
He adds them to what’s already around his neck, and watching him tuck every last spell I’ve made under his shirt feels like a violation.
Finally, the crystal my mother left me goes into his pack.
He’s not wearing his armor, I realize. Just a shirt and breeches. There’s not even a sword on his hip. Just that godsdamned knife, now returned to the sheath on his belt. He was so confident in catching me that he didn’t even feel the need to armor up.
“What happens now?” I ask, shifting to try and find a comfortable spot for my shackled wrists against the wall of his room.
“Now, we go back to the Crux,” he says, not meeting my eye. “Captain Thora and Arlon will decide what to do with you from there.”
Once he’s finished thoroughly rifling through my things, he stands to look down at me. “On your feet. Turn around and face the wall.”
I warily obey as I say, “I don’t have anything else on me.”
Nik gives me a look before a firm hand on my shoulder spins me. My chest bumps the stone as he starts to search me, unfastening my cloak before he feels through my pockets.
“Hold on, if you’re gonna manhandle me, let me help,” I snap, annoyance replacing my dread. I thrust my ass back at him, bowing my back and more firmly putting my face against the stone.
Nik jumps back in surprise before he clears his throat. “Right. You’re good.”
“Yeah, no shit.” He doesn’t stop me as I turn and sink to sit on the floor again, careful of my shackled wrists.
Nik avoids my eyes as he starts to repack my things. I watch without really seeing him, trying to weigh my options. And there are few. Plead with him, or get away, and I’m not betting on the second when he’s already got my spells.
“So, what, you’re just gonna leave me shackled? I got a fucked arm, Nik. At least fasten them in front of me.” It’s an exaggeration, but no matter how good of a job Galiva did when fixing my drawing arm, it’s not happy to stay wrenched behind me for too long.
Nik doesn’t even look at me. Instead, he finishes repacking my things before there’s a knock on the door. He answers it, and Janessa gives me a furtive look before saying, “Bath’s ready.”
He nods before he comes over and helps me to my feet. I’m led a few doors down before Nik finally unlocks the shackles. I rub my wrists before he gives me a nudge inside of the washroom. He half closes the door before thrusting one hand through expectantly.
“Give me your clothes.”
“Thought we already established that I’m not carrying anything else.”
“I know you’re not,” he says before flapping his fingers impatiently.
Only then do I notice the large window that faces the now-dark woods.
The shutters would be easy to open, the drop manageable with caution.
But I can only imagine one scenario where I would want to go running around naked in the woods, and it’s not with Nik.
Besides, it’s started sleeting, a mix of ice and rain whispering against the window.
I undress with a sigh before I hand him the bundle of clothes. Nik takes it all before thrusting his hand back in. “Your boots.”
I roll my eyes but hand them out all the same. “Enjoy the stink,” I mutter before I snap the washroom door closed. I head to the steaming wooden tub and sink in far quicker than I should. I let out a yelp, my cold hands and feet struggling to adjust to the heat.
Nik clears his throat before calling through the door. “Holler when you’re done.”
I silently flip a rude gesture before I settle into the water. Letting me bathe is a kindness he doesn’t owe me, but I’m set on being angry. I scrub myself with a soapstone until my skin’s pink before soaking until the water goes cold.
I’m just about to muster the energy to get up when there’s a knock on the door. Nik doesn’t wait to open it, yet when I look over, he’s only holding my spare set of clothes through the crack.
“Leave ‘em. I’m not done yet.”
Nik snorts. “Nice try. Time to get out. We got an early morning.”
I petulantly linger for a moment longer before I heave myself out of the tub and snatch my clothes from his hand.
I dry off and get dressed, though I can’t help but notice that Nik failed to give me back my boots.
I open the door, barefooted, to find him waiting for me.
He goes to grab my arm, but I step back.
“If you wanna hold hands, you gotta ask.”
Nik rolls his eyes. “This is gonna be a long trip home with that attitude. I didn’t want to come up here in the first place, you know.”
“And you think I did?” I scowl but lead the way back to his room. He looms just behind me, like he’s ready to grab me if I attempt to run for it.
“Then why did you?” he asks.
I swallow the knot in my throat. “Because I’ve got to find her.”
Nik scoffs. “Your mother? It’s a lost cause, Dom. I heard enough of your talk with the innkeeper that even I can see that.”
That note said she would show me the way. I can only hope she’s still trying.
I fall quiet as he opens the door to his room and ushers me inside. The first thing I notice is that my pack is tucked away, and my spells are nowhere in sight. Gods only know where he’s hidden them now.
“We’ll start the trip back tomorrow morning. If I can trust you, you’ll sleep without shackles tonight,” Nik says even as he sits on the edge of the bed to shed his own boots.
“Keep ‘em on. May as well deliver me back to the Crux in the proper gear to get fucked.”
“You’re the one who took your spells and ran, Dom,” Nik says as he sets his shoes by the door, his socks tucked into them. “You know, I didn’t join the Royal Guard just to become a wizard-sitter. Guess we both have to live with the consequences of our choices.”
I scowl, falling into a surly silence before I hear the jangle of keys. “Which arm’s the fucked one?” Nik asks.
I shrug my right shoulder, and Nik grabs my left hand instead. He closes one end of the shackle around my wrist before fastening the other around a bar in the headboard. Only then does he snuff the light from the lantern.
I wait, blinking against the sudden darkness, but Nik’s weight doesn’t settle next to me. Silence stretches, and, without his armor on, he moves so damn quiet I can’t place him. But his voice finally gives him away as he whispers into the silence.
“What the hell are you doing?” I mutter.
Nik sighs heavily before he says, “Praying.”
“To who?”
“A thanks to Huntian for his aid in tracking you down, and a plea to the Wanderer for an easy road to get your ass home.” He pauses for a moment before saying, “And one to the Lightbringer. Always.”
“Waste of a prayer on that last one. Everyone knows that the Lightbringer and Quietus are too big to hear prayers.”
Nik shrugs. “Maybe. Doesn’t hurt to try.”
There are a few folks in Airedale who would agree with him, but I’ve never been the particularly pious type. Maybe that’s what makes me hesitate to voice my next question. “Do the gods ever answer you?”
A quiet scoff cuts through the darkness. “Of course they do. I didn’t envy fighting an armed wizard, you know. And I caught you without a spell being shot.”
“Must be fucking nice to be so blessed and highly favored,” I scoff.
Nik goes silent again, and there’s a quiet shuffle before his weight settles on the bed beside me. He shifts to get under the covers and even holds them up so I can do the same. “Just go to sleep, Dom.”
I bite back another retort as I shift, trying and failing to find a comfortable position to lay in with my arm shackled to the headboard.
I get the feeling it’s going to be a restless night for both of us. Nik’s not a quiet sleeper. Within minutes of going still, he starts snoring. Yet the second I shift to try and get my left arm comfortable, he goes silent. He’s sleeping with one eye open, as if I’m going to try and make an escape.
Sure as hell wish I knew how he expected me to do that. Because I’ve got precious few ideas, and in considering the bad and worse, I must finally doze.
My dreams are fraught and fragmented. One moment, I’m dreaming of Olbric in his magiline citran, surrounded by red stone, then the next, Galiva is sitting cross-legged in the heart of the Crux, her face pinched with worry. Then, those crossed pillars are in front of me.
Except this time, I’m no longer a passenger.
Lucien grabs my arm, but I’m bound, hands tied behind my back. I stagger as I’m yanked forward, dragged towards the pillars that seem too large to be real.
I know what Lucien is going to do before he does it. I shout and plead, but it doesn’t stop him as he hauls me towards them, setting me in the space between the crossed magiline. The silver crawls over me, consuming me, and I wake screaming.
But even outside of the dream, the silver still has its grip on me.
I thrash against its hold, trying to pull my arm free as a ringing builds in my ears.
Heat condenses in my chest before it spreads down my trapped arm.
There’s a sound like a hammer hitting an anvil before my arm suddenly comes free, and I scramble off the bed and onto unsteady feet.
I barely have a chance to get my bearings, assure myself that I am truly awake, before hands are on me.
My legs are kicked out from underneath me, and I go down with a yelp.
Guess I should be grateful that I’m forced over the edge of the bed rather than the floor.
A knee jabs into the center of my back before my arms are wrenched behind me.
“Ow! Fucking hell, Nik!”
He holds my wrists tight in one of his hands even as the other searches me. “Where are your spells?”