Page 92 of A Conduit of Light
Pompeiianswered and she smiled nervously, suddenly realizing she should have brought something of use like fresh water or food.
“Iwanted to check onBaronHeimlen.Heseemed more worn than usual, andIfearImight have pushed too much of my magic into him.”
Pompeiiunderstood things better than he had any right to, and raised one of his pointed eyebrows quizzically, turning his head slightly.Buthe gave her a soft smile nonetheless and stepped aside to let her through.
BaronHeimlenwas sitting on his bed, the light of the afternoon sun streaming through the single window.
Revichwas holding a cup of water and standing over him, concern across his features.Sylvasat beside him, her arm over his shoulder, rubbing his back and whispering words of comfort.
Theyall cared for this man.ThisBaronthat she did not trust, nor believe.
“Isthere anythingIcan do?”
Revichnoticed her then, giving her his half-hearted smile. “Idon’t think so.Hejust needs rest.Wepushed far today, and we had a lot of success.Thatwas the longestSimulairSolemwe’ve seen yet.”Hepatted theBaron’sshoulder and grinned.
“Itwas.Ican hold it longer than that.Ijust need rest for now.Butwe will pick up in the morning.”
“Perhapswe should skip the morning training,Baron.Wecan pick up again at our usual late afternoon time.Sylva, would you attend to him tonight and tomorrow, just to be sure he has what he needs?Ican relieve you in a few hours.”
“Ofcourse, of course.”Shewas busy, whispering something in the oldBaron’sear which made him chuckle as he drank deeply from the cupRevichshoved in his hands.
Karusmoved closer to the bed with her heart hammering so loudly, she was sure she’d be discovered.
“Here, let me help you out of your cloak,” she mumbled, reaching out asSylvabegan to pull it off his shoulders.
Itwas ridiculously easy.Mucheasier than she had dared to think and she did feel somewhat guilty, relying on their trust.Shetook the black cloak, her hand sliding seamlessly into the inside pocket where it wrapped around the black key she knew would be there after seeing it produced on more than one occasion.
Shehad forgotten he was there,Pompeii, as she slid the key into her own pocket and hung the cloak on the iron knob beside the door.
Hissmokey eyes, adorned in gold liner, stared at her and her cheeks burned red.
“Whereare you off to,Karus?”Hiswords were soft in the small sitting room, away from the people who cared forBaronHeimlenthe most.
“I-IthinkIshould rest a moment in our rooms.Theefforts of today’s trainings have drained me as well.”
“Yes, you look…drained.”
Hesaid the last word with absolute acknowledgement that she looked anything but.Hercheeks were flushed, her eyes wild at her stolen artifact hanging heavy in her pocket.
Shesmiled as genuinely as she could and turned to leave.Sherefused to glance back to see if he was watching her, but somehow, something told her he was.
Chapter43
Karus
“ForFelgren.”
Theclick was the most welcoming sound.Karusexhaled in relief, swearing to never doubt her intuition again.
Shesmirked at her own cleverness, shutting the door ofBaronHeimlen’sstudy quickly behind her and placing the key back in her pocket.Shewould have to get it back into theBaron’scloak before he wore it the next day, but that was something for futureKarusto worry about.
Fornow, she would pry.Shewould look for evidence of her theory.Shehad half hoped that when she had gone to steal the key, theBaronwould be in his bed, sans gloves and everyone would be able to move on with their lives, but no.Ofcourse, he hadn’t been.Becauseas far as she knew, he never did take them off.
Shelit the lantern at his desk with a snap of her fingers, sparking green in the dark, and began her search.
Shestarted with his desk, pulling open drawers, finding them quite disorganized which surprised her, considering the cleanliness of his rooms.Insidewere old quills, a few worn paintbrushes, and baubles taken from the forest—a pine cone here and an interesting rock there, she was surprised to see a sentimental side ofBaronHeimlen.Shamerose from her chest, doing its best to question this invasion of privacy.Sheshoved it aside, inhaling deeply in the dark, musty room, refusing to stop what she had already begun.
Therewas nothing of interest in his desk except for a journal which was first dated around four weeks prior.Itdetailed all the training they had done.
