The Jolt
The days blur together.
Each one I am slightly stronger than the last. Teorin continues to hover. He sleeps in my room still, though not in the bed again. For now.
In the mornings Fiersa helps me sit up. We work on walking. After a few days I can hold myself upright for short periods before the coughing starts. Whenever I cough a black substance comes up, thick and wrong.
"The poison," she says, shaking her head.
"What kind of poison is it? Dali says there may be a cure."
Fiersa raises an eyebrow. "The Saren? Is she a healer of some kind?”
I smirked. “No, but she seems to know things.”
She sighed. “Be careful, Sarens all pretend to know things. And she is a Siren apparently, which is worse.”
I frowned. “I do not understand the difference.”
“A Saren is from Sarenal. A Siren is a Sarenal with royal blood.”
I began coughing again and she stood, handing me a basin. This time there was blood tinged with the black fluid. I frowned.
“They say Briavar has the best healers,” I said. “Maybe I should go there.”
She shrugged. "Who knows. Healers came when you first arrived but I suspect Teorin didn't know where to find the most capable ones." She lowered her voice. "His sentinel Shyall isn't the most capable.”
She sighed. "At any rate, Eravic is likely your best bet. Not simply because he is honest but he is a merchant and one of the best ones in the Thronelands. He knows exactly where to source treatments and antidotes especially with all the fighting at the border.” She paused.
“I suspect he will have what you need. And if he doesn’t, King Axar will sort it for you. ”
"Who exactly is he?"
"A king."
I rolled my eyes. "Clearly. But who, and why does he matter? Does he have the sight? Can he see the future?" I tried to keep the hope out of my voice. If he could see the future perhaps he could tell me if I would see my children again. My husband again.
"He knows many things,” she said. "He is King of Korakar. His lands take up most of Morrath and it is said he has more strength than any of the Darkway kings."
"He is a Rathmor?”
I tried to hide my surprise.
"Your husband’s uncle, I believe. Apparently the old king was jealous and paranoid and used magic to trap Axar here forever.
" She glanced around as though checking for listeners.
"Between you and me, I don't believe that.
I think he simply wants people to believe he cannot leave.
He is powerful. Stronger than Sevrin in my opinion. " A shrug. "But who knows."
She adjusted the cloth at my shoulder. "He went to the Witchward to find out if you lived or died."
I frowned. "Why would that matter to him?"
"I think all Rathmor matters are of importance to him." She folded her hands. "He should return soon. When he does he will likely take control of the castle."
I did not know if Axar was good or evil. I felt relieved anyway, which probably said everything about how safe I felt around Teorin Rathmor these days.
After a few days Dali reappeared.
"Where is Maridale?"
She gave me a sweet smile. "Sleeping, of course."
Before I could say anything she placed her hand over my chest. The jolt came without warning, electricity and pain moving through me all at once.
"There." She stepped back. "You should heal faster now. It won't cure the poison or let you leave Morrath. But it will let you walk and move about."
I stared at her. "Next time warn me."
She smirked. "I'd rather not. Watching you jump like that was simply too amusing."
She walked out before I could respond.