As il'Sänke carefully laid Nikolas on a table, others in the hall rose from benches and chairs, drawing nearer.
"Here," High-Tower answered.
His gaze locked on Nikolas as he closed on the table's far side. Il'Sänke put a hand on the young sage's chest and leaned down to listen at Nikolas's slack mouth. He glanced up at High-Tower, nodded once, and the dwarven domin breathed a sigh of relief.
Wynn exhaled, not realizing she'd held her breath in that moment. "Where are Miriam and Dâgmund?" she repeated.
Rodian didn't even look at her. He kept his angry eyes on High-Tower.
"Dead," he said sharply, "in an alley near the Feather and Parchment."
All the warmth drained from Wynn's flesh.
Il'Sänke grabbed the sleeve of a female apprentice in brown. "Get Premin Adlam or Master Bitworth… or any elder in the hospice. Quickly, girl!"
Rodian kept his eyes on High-Tower. "And your folio is gone as well," he hissed.
High-Tower finally looked up, but he didn't appear surprised.
Wynn went to the table, pushing aside others in her way. Nikolas's eyes were closed, and his skin was pallid. Strands of hair down the left side of his head were grayed. There was not a mark on him that she could see, and she glanced back at Rodian.
"The others," she whispered, "the same, like Jeremy and Elias?"
He closed on the gathering at the table. "Yes… or one of them."
Wynn hesitated at the answer, looking again at Nikolas's ashen features. If they both died, but only one in this way, then how…?
"Someone
Wynn flinched as too many eyes turned her way among the initiates and apprentices gathered around. High-Tower's iron-pellet irises fixed on the captain.
"Chlâyard… do not!" il'Sänke whispered.
For an instant Wynn was lost by that one word, though she knew what it meant—the high tower.
It had been so long since she'd heard anyone utter the domin's name in Dwarvish, and her gaze flickered between High-Tower and il'Sänke. What was happening between these two?
"What's in those texts?" Rodian shouted, and his voice echoed about the still hall. "Why do you throw away more lives in your denial and ignorance… and deceit?"
High-Tower's face flushed within his red beard and hair.
"Captain!"
Wynn turned at the sharp female voice. Duchess Reine and three of the Weardas stood in the main archway.
"I heard—and came straightaway," she said more softly.
She wasn't dressed in her split gown this time. Beneath the sea green cloak of the royal family she wore a leather vest over a stark cotton shirt, and leather breeches tucked into high riding boots. She looked far more like one of her own, the horse people of Faunier, than a member of the Âreskynna family. Her gaze drifted to settle upon Nikolas's frail form.
How had she learned of this tragedy so quickly?
Rodian's jaw tightened, and he looked baffled by the sight of the duchess.
"Highness," he said, with only a curt half bow. "How…?"
Wynn sensed a battle of wills about to smother all else.
"We must get Nikolas to the ward," she urged. "There's no time to waste"
High-Tower's hands were tightened into fists the size of sledgehammers, but he seemed to hear the sense in her words. He quickly dispersed the cluster of apprentices and initiates.
"Get the boy proper help!" Rodian spit. "Then you and I will talk."
High-Tower glared back and took a step around the table's end. Il'Sänke pressed a restraining hand to the dwarf's shoulder, but it didn't slow him. Il'Sänke ended up stumbling aside. In that instant Wynn feared for Rodian's safety.
"Captain," Duchess Reine repeated, and she stepped between the two. "These people have suffered again. Any necessary discussion will wait."
High-Tower held his place with deep, slow breaths and finally turned aside.
"Apologies, my lady," Rodian answered coldly. "But it is a tragedy of their own making… and it's time I was given a free hand."
"The king might feel differently," she said softly.
Rodian's angry expression wavered. "Pardon, but feelings have nothing to do with the law."
"The king is offering his assistance," the duchess went on. "A royally appointed physician has returned from a journey south. A Suman, one who knows toxins. The king has asked him to visit the barracks tomorrow to… examine bodies and provide any information he can for your investigation. For now, leave the sages be."
Rodian breathed in twice and shook his head, and Domin il'Sänke watched him carefully.
Wynn didn't know what to think. Clearly the royals wanted these ugly murders stopped, yet again they shielded the guild from the captain of the city guard.
