Chương 43: (Discovering) Hidden Rooms

When Aarron mentioned an inn, I didn't expect it to be a small farmstead run by two retired Nightshades who were beholden to him. Granted, it's better than staying somewhere that could be held by the Blood Sect, but this… No running water. Just tubs that you have to be lucky enough to get the heated water to in time. All of this makes getting bone fragments, blood, and dirt out of my hair really difficult. It's in my hair, on my scalp, and I swear it's seeped into the pores of my skin—underneath it, even.

The aftermath of the event whispers in my mind, through my thoughts and memories, giving me future glimpses and past flashbacks that meld so thoroughly, I can barely track the here and now. I see the fight with Dendrak, watch as Sevrin is injured again, see Lareny lying on the ground with her wounds apparent and so close to death. I don't think my healing worked completely. She's hiding pain from me. Lareny will live, but there's still something not quite right. I hope I didn't screw her body composition up.

This whole magic thing is gradually proving more and more difficult. Especially with it being so damn pushy. I can hear voices outside as Xan and I wash up. Lathering soap through their hair, I pause to listen.

"Hey, don't do that. Work the dirt out for me." Xan's voice is soft, and I can feel their tiredness in my bones.

"Shush. Let the grownups eavesdrop." They chuckle.

"That's what you are now? Grown up?"

"Mostly," I answer absentmindedly, trying to focus on the chatter outside.

"…under the haystacks." It's one of our hosts speaking. An older man, much older than I'd ever thought an assassin could live to be.

"Truly safe there?" Mithris asks. I bet he's standing with his back against the wall and his arms crossed.

"As safe as can be. We'll swap you into another wagon for the trip. We have an actual caravan you can use. It should keep them off your tail for a while. Long enough to make it back."

"Good." Lareny even sounds pained.

"When?"

"In the morning. Get a solid night's sleep. Meryl and I will deal with anyone who comes here. Once you've bathed, don't exit the hidden rooms." Our host sounds stern, like he's used to being listened to.

"Yes, sir." There's good natured ribbing in Mithris's tone. Like he knows the old man. What am I missing? But I don't have time to ponder it, because I can feel others approaching. They're on horseback and not trying to conceal anything about their passage. I dump a bucketful of cold water over Xan's head eliciting a louder shriek than I intended.

"Hey!"

"Rinse it. We have company. We need to hide." I poke my head out to where Lareny and Mithris still stand with our hosts.

"Incoming. About half an hour out. Maybe less if they push it." Meryl looks at me, her eyes narrowed. Pretty sure she wouldn't hesitate to kill any of us in our sleep if we screw up. To be fair, we're all like that.

"Let's get this set up, then." About a quarter of an hour sees all eight of us who remain and Dendrak, sequestered in the bed, in a medium-sized room. The three prisoners are huddled in the corner, mostly asleep with the sedative I gave them, too. There are no windows in this room, and no gaps in the walls. It's made to fit in the center of the house and would only be noticeable if someone were to seriously investigate. It's long and narrow, holds two large beds, one at each end, and several bedrolls.

There's a jug of fresh water, and we have a basket of fruits, bread, and some vegetables. Along with the dried meat, we could probably ration here for a couple of days if necessary. I kneel down next to Dendrak and test his cognitive functions. He's still out of it, drugged to the hilt, but I think his constitution is above average, because there's a flickering of his pupils that shouldn't be present yet. Another couple of hours and I'll need to check on him again. Probably need to add to his dosage.

Have to keep him and the others out of it until we make it back to the Enclave. I can't risk them tapping into their own blood reserves or however it is that they operate. There's a wave of worry from the ground beneath me as those on horseback approach. It's tense underneath me, ready to defend itself at any moment. It must have been so lonely for the past hundred years, unable to act on its own behalf because when it did, it gobbled up its conduits.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. The loud knocking echoes through to us, even in here. I can hear Meryl and her husband talking. They sound far weaker than they did when speaking to us. Playing up the part for those people who're intruding no doubt.

"Search our property?" She really plays up the old woman role well.

"What on earth for? Who are you?"

"Sorrishen border patrol. We have some fugitives on the run that we're searching for."

"And you think they could be here?" Meryl's voice sounds so incredulous and fearful that I have to clamp a hand over my mouth as a laugh tries to escape.

"Just routine, ma'am. Just in case you're in danger."

"Very well." It's Meryl's husband, whose name I still haven't caught.

"Take a look around."

"Thank you." The door closes, and we're stuck in this long room, blind to everything around us. I suppress a sigh and just let myself fall to the ground, cross-legged, and reach out my awareness to the nature around us. The wind finds cracks in the walls to speak to me; the earth is at my beck and call as long as there is ground in sight. I follow their path as they search.

They don't do so gently, and I have to check my anger multiple times while they poke and prod animals, shelters, hay, straw, and every structure on the property. From the anger the earth reads off them, they haven't found anything or anyone. Which is good. Sorrishen border patrol, eh? Definitely not—or if they are, the sect's roots go deeper than I ever imagined. I need to talk to Minx again. Finally, they're gone, and we heave a sigh of relief.

This is bizarre, and I'm starting to wonder just who in our own Enclave I can trust. Is everyone in important positions a member of the sect? I wouldn't put it past them. We still need to make it home. After a short while, Lareny clears her throat and smiles around. She's still wan and off color.

"We should be able to leave in the morning. Meryl and Jacob have a cover story for us. We'll head out at first light. Get some sleep." Except I don't want to. So I stand in front of her while the rest of them get ready for bed and tap my foot impatiently.

"What is it, Taria?" Then Lareny does a small double take.

"I didn't realize your hair was so long."

"Oh." That's right. In all the kerfuffle, I forgot to braid it after my shower. Time for that later.

"Don't change the subject. You need to tell me what's really wrong. Did I miss something when healing you?" Lareny grimaces.

"Should have known I couldn't put it past you. I'm fine, I just didn't want you wasting more energy dealing with another injury."

"I missed one?"

"Technically?" She lifts her shirt to show the opposite side of her waist. I can see the blood bruising underneath the skin.

"I mean it's healed and healing, but that is really more the potion."

"Silly," I say, biting my lip. Rubbing my hands together to warm them up, I place the palm of my hand against her skin and ask the element of water to tell me what's wrong here. It delves in deep, showing me broken blood cells, and very slow internal bleeding. I can feel the color drain from my face. If I hadn't pushed this matter, she'd be dead before we reach home. And then Lennick would kill me.

"Lie down." I say it in such a way that brooks no argument. I'm angrier than I thought I'd be, too. She shouldn't have hidden this from me. Lareny lies down on the bed that doesn't hold Dendrak, and she seems a little scared if how wide her eyes get is anything to go by.

"Is it bad?"

"Yes. You shouldn't have hidden this." And I'm worried. Will even my abilities be enough to heal this? Can I even manage it? I reach inside myself and examine the area through the lenses of my elements, so that I know how it should feel and how it should behave. That way I can repair what's there with a blueprint as to what it should be like at full health. At least, that's my theory. It sure would make things easier if I had someone knowledgeable to guide me.

Delving in, I realize this isn't as straightforward as I thought it'd be. There's serious damage in Lareny, only made worse by the fact that she didn't say anything, and the healing potions have boosted the healing process in the wrong way over this wound. Damn it.

"This is going to hurt," I murmur, and it feels like my voice is coming from a distance outside of my body—everywhere all at once. I'm not sure if Lareny answers me or not, but she doesn't move. Carefully, I use the power of water and maneuver her blood and flesh around. The flesh is more difficult, not being made up of as much of the element as the rest. Lareny's body tenses, and I can sense the pain she's in from the way her breathing constricts. Holding the bleeding at bay feels heavy and cumbersome.

But once I have the organ that was impeded repositioned to where it should be without the scar and blood vessel strangling it, everything becomes lighter, easier to maneuver. My head is spinning, which isn't a good sign. I've done way too much today. Slowly, I extract my awareness, pulling myself out of Lareny's injury while I will the elements to aid in her healing.

"Drink this." I hold out my last extra-strength potion to her and watch as she downs it, as the liquid flows into her body and starts spreading out to do its work. Gently, I push for it to exceed its own capabilities, for it to grow in strength, to preserve and heal more. The ground beneath me rumbles softly, lending a warmth through my feet and up into my hands. It spreads through me faster than energy that I gain by Recovery Acclimation, yet the sensations are eerily similar.

It heals me, even without a potion, even without my asking. I get the distinct impression the magic doesn't want its conduits to ever die out again. Sitting down on the bed, I breathe in, somewhat refreshed. But also, somehow still like I got trampled by a herd of cattle. My very bones ache.

"Thank you." Lareny's words are slurred, but she already looks better. I'm glad, because I truly was floundering around inside of that wound just hoping that using my own body as a guide was enough. This time it was. I not only need to get stronger so I can wield the damn power. But I also need to know more about the human body. All the intricate details of how the organs work, how the blood vessels flow, and what oxygen means to the whole process. The more I know, the easier it will be to heal. And to kill.

What can be healed can also be reversed. In my line of work, it's important to draw the distinction.

"What did you do?" Xan asks from my left. I shrug.

"I missed an injury because the healing potion had already allowed the wound to heal on the outside, just not on the inside. That's more dangerous. And Lareny didn't speak up about it. Lucky, I got to it in time."

"That's great of you. But I think you need to watch your energy output now."

"You think, do you?" I ask, deliberately being insulting. Xan smirks.

"Yes. Sometimes I do, in fact, think."

"Not often, though."

"Nope." They grin at me this time.

"I prefer to leave that up to you." I can't help but crack a smile. Definitely something I needed to do. My head feels heavy, but I have to wait up and make sure Dendrak won't accidentally wake up and kill us all in our sleep.