wealth, but the Arbiters of the Inquisition knew better. The gemstone glowed when touched by one with the potential to wield the powers of magic.
He let the gemstone drop and caught the chain between the maimed fingers of his right hand. Without his touch to sustain it the glow of the gem ceased and it once again became dull and lifeless. He held the gem up to Shen’s head. She flinched but didn’t cower. Thanquil respected her for that. The green gem did not glow; its inner light remained well and truly dead.
Thanquil whipped the gemstone away and shoved it back into his pocket. He backed away a step, lowering his pistol, and tripped over the prone form of Hizo. Before he could catch himself he tumbled backwards, landing on something soft and banging his head against the wooden wall of the room. Shen was there beside him in an instant, attempting to minister to the bump but Thanquil shoved her away. He glanced down to find he had landed on a bed, no doubt Shen’s bed given the close proximity to her study.
“But you used magic,” he said as much to himself as to the healer.
Shen shook her head. “When?”
“You kept commanding me to sleep.”
“You were tired.”
“No… well yes but it was more than that. I could feel the magic at work, sapping my strength.”
“Oh… that.”
He glanced at her. She kept her eyes lowered.
“Shen, tell me.”
“Your shoulder was worse than I let you know,” she said still staring at her feet. “You tore the muscle from the bone. It was unlikely to heal on its own. I didn’t make you sleep. I sped up the healing. It tends to drain the patient.”
Thanquil shook his head. “Magic. But you don’t have the potential. It shouldn’t be possible for you to use magic.”
Shen shrugged. “I don’t know, I just can. I’ve had the ability for a couple of years now. I could… I could probably heal your hand,” she said and placed her own hand on his right. He didn’t pull away.
“No,” Thanquil said. The hand wasn’t crippled, only burned, the skin had never healed right but it served as a reminder to the heresy of the dark Inquisitor. It served as a reminder to what he fought against.
“I should go,” Thanquil said.
“Please don’t,” Shen leaned her left shoulder into his right. “You could stay. Here with me.”
Something about the situation still didn’t seem right to Thanquil, not least of all because he was tempted. “I have a witch to find, Shen.”
“You won’t. Find her, I mean. Not unless she wants to be found.”
He pulled his hand away and narrowed his eyes, set his jaw. His face became stone. “You know more than you’re telling me.”
“I…”
“Do not make me force the truth from you.”
“She arrived a few years ago. Ever since our harvest have been plentiful, people don’t fall ill so much, we’ve less still-borns and the storms don’t touch us no more. She’s done nothing but good for us, for everyone. She’s not a witch, she’s a sorceress.”
Thanquil snorted. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Tell me where I can find her.”
Shen shut her mouth, leapt up and ran for the door but Thanquil was quicker. He caught her wrist, span her around and threw her back onto the bed, pressing his own weight down on top of her. She whimpered but her mouth remained closed.
Thanquil resigned himself to asking one last question as he stared down at the healer. “Where is the witch?”
Shen’s eyes widened in fear as she tried to fight the compulsion. Tried and failed. “Fort Talon.”
Thanquil sighed. “Where is Fort Talon?”
“Four days travel west.”
Thanquil could feel the intense pleasure that came from using the compulsion. The ecstasy was a wonderful contrast to the pain in his shoulder. He wanted to ask more questions, needed to ask more. Just one more.
“Who rules Fort Talon?” he asked.
“Prince Naarsk.”
“A Dragon Prince is in league with a witch?”
“Yes.” Shen burst into tears,
He let the gemstone drop and caught the chain between the maimed fingers of his right hand. Without his touch to sustain it the glow of the gem ceased and it once again became dull and lifeless. He held the gem up to Shen’s head. She flinched but didn’t cower. Thanquil respected her for that. The green gem did not glow; its inner light remained well and truly dead.
Thanquil whipped the gemstone away and shoved it back into his pocket. He backed away a step, lowering his pistol, and tripped over the prone form of Hizo. Before he could catch himself he tumbled backwards, landing on something soft and banging his head against the wooden wall of the room. Shen was there beside him in an instant, attempting to minister to the bump but Thanquil shoved her away. He glanced down to find he had landed on a bed, no doubt Shen’s bed given the close proximity to her study.
“But you used magic,” he said as much to himself as to the healer.
Shen shook her head. “When?”
“You kept commanding me to sleep.”
“You were tired.”
“No… well yes but it was more than that. I could feel the magic at work, sapping my strength.”
“Oh… that.”
He glanced at her. She kept her eyes lowered.
“Shen, tell me.”
“Your shoulder was worse than I let you know,” she said still staring at her feet. “You tore the muscle from the bone. It was unlikely to heal on its own. I didn’t make you sleep. I sped up the healing. It tends to drain the patient.”
Thanquil shook his head. “Magic. But you don’t have the potential. It shouldn’t be possible for you to use magic.”
Shen shrugged. “I don’t know, I just can. I’ve had the ability for a couple of years now. I could… I could probably heal your hand,” she said and placed her own hand on his right. He didn’t pull away.
“No,” Thanquil said. The hand wasn’t crippled, only burned, the skin had never healed right but it served as a reminder to the heresy of the dark Inquisitor. It served as a reminder to what he fought against.
“I should go,” Thanquil said.
“Please don’t,” Shen leaned her left shoulder into his right. “You could stay. Here with me.”
Something about the situation still didn’t seem right to Thanquil, not least of all because he was tempted. “I have a witch to find, Shen.”
“You won’t. Find her, I mean. Not unless she wants to be found.”
He pulled his hand away and narrowed his eyes, set his jaw. His face became stone. “You know more than you’re telling me.”
“I…”
“Do not make me force the truth from you.”
“She arrived a few years ago. Ever since our harvest have been plentiful, people don’t fall ill so much, we’ve less still-borns and the storms don’t touch us no more. She’s done nothing but good for us, for everyone. She’s not a witch, she’s a sorceress.”
Thanquil snorted. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Tell me where I can find her.”
Shen shut her mouth, leapt up and ran for the door but Thanquil was quicker. He caught her wrist, span her around and threw her back onto the bed, pressing his own weight down on top of her. She whimpered but her mouth remained closed.
Thanquil resigned himself to asking one last question as he stared down at the healer. “Where is the witch?”
Shen’s eyes widened in fear as she tried to fight the compulsion. Tried and failed. “Fort Talon.”
Thanquil sighed. “Where is Fort Talon?”
“Four days travel west.”
Thanquil could feel the intense pleasure that came from using the compulsion. The ecstasy was a wonderful contrast to the pain in his shoulder. He wanted to ask more questions, needed to ask more. Just one more.
“Who rules Fort Talon?” he asked.
“Prince Naarsk.”
“A Dragon Prince is in league with a witch?”
“Yes.” Shen burst into tears,
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