Page 118 of Cursed Dreams
They stopped in front of a heavy door etched with old fae runes glowing a dull blue.
Marand stepped closer. “The wards are humming,” she murmured. “I can feel them?”
“Yes, Lord Vaelith is a master of wards, he set them in such a way that even us humans can feel them, very cleaver” “He’s not actively flaring now,” Elric confirmed. “But we’ve noticed his surges happen after contact with healing magic of any kind, so it is vital you do not use it ”
Thalia’s heart pounded a little harder. “So the magic’s interacting with something inside him?”
“Exactly, our thoughts” Elric said. “But we don’t know if it’s an inherited trait, a curse, or a dormant affliction triggered by age or exposure.”
“Or if he’s just really allergic to healers,” Cellen whispered, earning an elbow from Marand.
Thalia tried to listen, to take notes, but her thoughts kept slipping. Her quill hovered over the parchment in her lap, the edges of her focus fraying. The hum of Vaelith’s wards the sheer power emanating from them were disconcerting. She could feel his magic as though it was dancing all over her skin. Her nerves grew as her confidence waned about their ability to break them tonight.
“Thalia?”
She blinked, looking up. Master Elric was watching her expectantly.
“Sorry—what was that?”
“I asked if you’d be willing to conduct a brief, non-magical examination,” he said brows furrowed. “You’re one of the few in your class I trust to approach without instinctively drawing on your magic.”
Thalia nodded quickly, standing. “Of course. Sorry, I was just… thinking.”
“Don’t worry.” Elric gave her a small smile. “Just don’t think too hard. This is a wonderful time to practice your non magical diagnosis skills, it can be easy to become to reliant on magic, you must remember to be proficient without the ability too. ”
The patient lay on the bed, pale but awake, his eyes bright and curious. “More new faces?” he asked with a faint smile. “They’re going to start charging admission at this rate.”
Thalia smiled politely, moving to his side and taking his pulse, checking his temperature, examining the pulse points and asking quiet, practiced questions. She could feel it, the hum of energy beneath his skin. Dormant for now but clearly building. She let herself be distracted by her work, enjoying the change in thoughts as she carried out her assessment, then watched on as one by one her friends carried out their own.
When they left the room, Elric clapped a hand to her shoulder. “Nice work.”
“Thank you” she murmured.
She caught Nyla’s concerned glance as they walked.
“You good?” she asked.
“Fine,” she lied.
Chapter 28
The night wrapped around them like a whisper, the cobbled streets of the outer Temple district slick with mist. Streetlamps flickered through the haze, casting dancing shadows along the high stone walls. Thalia’s boots made barely a sound as she moved, flanked by Marand and Cellen. Her stomach twisted with nerves. They were really doing this. Vaelith’s lodgings loomed ahead
“I still think this plan is mad,” Cellen muttered as they crouched beside a trellis draped in ivy, just out of sight of the street. “Absolutely, fantastically mad. The kind of mad that ends with someone writing an overly dramatic ballad about us.”
“You say that like you wouldn’t enjoy it,” Thalia whispered back.
Cellen grinned. “Depends on how handsome they describe me as.”
Marand leaned close, eyes scanning the still street. “We’re clear. Nyla’s already in position across the street.”
A soft yellow glow emanated from the opposite wall, Nyla's signal. All clear. No Vaelith.
Thalia took a breath, placing her hand against the concealed entrance Cellen had identified earlier. Hidden behind wild over grown ivy, the door looked more like a child's play house entrance than a servants and goods access. Yet it hummed with subtle magic that once again danced beneath her fingers.
Cellen stepped forward, drawing a small rune marked stone from his belt along with a vial of some strange orange coloured liquid. “I’ve got the ward.”
Thalia and Marand stepped back and watched as he began dabbing the oil along the edge of the doorframe whispering words as he did so. The magic shimmered briefly, Thalia could feel it resisting, a pulsing wave rushing out each time Cellen dabbed another drop of the oil. Her nerves rose as she began to worry it wouldn't break, then softened, like an exhaled breath she felt it as it dissipated.
