Page 93 of A Conduit of Light
Sheturned and began to search the bookcases, looking for more journals—anything written that could prove her theory.Sheslid between the desk and bookcases carefully, wondering howBaronHeimlendid so, and wondering why he had chosen this room as his study, considering its tight quarters.
Bookson flora and fauna ofFelgrenwere most of the subjects, with a few memoirs of the conduits who had left their writings behind.
Therewas nothing.Nothingof use to her, no obvious declarations of malice, no proof that he had created a disease so deadly, it killed thousands of her people.Herheart sank and that guilt she had shoved aside began to settle in her stomach like a stone.
Sheshook her head and kept on searching, unsure of how much time she had here, turning to the small table wedged between two of the bookcases.She’dnoticed it the first time she had entered this study.Itwas odd and out of place, with beakers and jars cluttered atop its dusty surface.Pickingup each jar, she read their labels:DanburyRoot,AshesofSycamore,PetalsofCrocus.
Karusknew there were potions and tinctures a trained conduit could make for ailments of the body, but she had no idea theBaronwas so interested or skilled in doing so.Thatwas typically what a medicus conduit did for their patients, not theBaronofFelgren.
Shelifted one bottle to the light of the lantern.Theglass was a dark purple and lacked a label.Itwas sealed with wax and from what she could discern, it contained sharp thorns from some kind of plant.
Confusedand frustrated, she placed the bottles back in their spots, clearly marked with clean circles on the dusty surface.
Audiblyexasperated, she turned and leaned back against the table, thinking about what she could ransack next.
Thetable moved slightly, rocking back and then forward again.
Rocking?
Bendingdown to look at the legs, she found four small wheels at the base of each, covered by a small piece of wood, making them impossible to see without sliding to the floor.
Sheattempted to pull the table back toward the desk, but there was so little room, she could only move a few inches.Frowning, she bent down again, bringing the lantern with her.
Herheart jolted with fresh excitement.Nearthe top underside of the table, just to the right, was a keyhole.
Knockingher head, she ignored the bump that would surely produce itself in a few hours and scrambled in her pocket for the black iron key.
Theclick was loud, a resonating sound that this room likely knew well.Shepushed on the door from under the table, but it was difficult, and she couldn’t pictureBaronHeimlendoing so each time he opened it.
Standingin front of the table, she began to push, realizing it was being used to open the hidden door fully, the long length of it turning to the left as the table fit through the new doorway.
Hersteps on the stone floor in the dark room echoed.Thelantern dimly lit the center of it, and she saw that a fireplace sat in the side wall, opposite the entrance.
Sheproduced fire for it, her green magic speeding in haste to the wood, illuminating the room better than any small lantern could do.
Itwas cozy, really.Blackfurniture lay about including two cushioned chairs near the fireplace and another long desk at the side wall.Morebookcases lined the large room as well as paintings that were hung along the walls in varying sizes.Thesubjects were…interesting.
Barelyclothed women looked out from the portraits, each one wearing very little to cover their bodies and each one as beautiful as the last.
Shecounted seven in total with the final hanging above the fireplace, the largest of them all.
Sheknew that face.
AyoungSylvalooked back at her across the room, her eyes the same shade of gold, her lips just as wide and pink.Herhair had been between brown and blonde once, and seeing her face unlined was eerie in a way.Agreen sheet was draped across her breasts and torso, tucked in between her legs as she lay on a settee, her arm propping her head.Herface was lit in the most seductive arrangement of features as her other hand lay over her bare hips, casual and alluring.
Sheshouldn’t be here.
Thiswas a place whereKaruswas truly intruding.Aplace that was supposed to beBaronHeimlen’salone.
Butshe had gotten this far.Shehad discovered this room, and she knew well enough, nothing could stop her from searching it.
Breathingdeep, she began at the desk,Sylva’sseductive eyes following her across the room.
Thiswas exactly what she had been searching for.Sheflipped through journals upon journals ofBaronHeimlen’stime at theFortress, dating back across decades, filled to the brim with internal thoughts, successes, and woes.
Thewriting was often short, full of sentences like thoughts pulled out of his mind directly onto paper without much processing in between.
Bringinga stack of them closer to the fireplace, she sat and began to read.Thejournals had been neatly organized, the dates along the spine of each.Shebegan with the one which contained his writings around five months before her arrival inFelgren, skimming the pages until her eyes picked up what she had been looking for.
