Trial By Fire (Going Down in Flames #3)(78)

One of her grandfather’s guards yanked the door open. Inside, the room looked much cleaner than Bryn remembered it. Books were shelved. The dust and cobwebs were gone. The glass cases gleamed. The old oak table had even been polished to a shine. It would have been an idyllic scene if only a guard wasn’t lying on the floor foaming at the mouth. Bubbly spittle dripped down his chin as his body twitched and his eyes rolled back in his head.

“Call a medic,” her grandfather ordered.

“I don’t suppose he’s epileptic?” Bryn said, knowing the answer.

“That is a human disease,” her grandfather replied.

Maybe she could help. Bryn crossed the threshold into the room.

“Don’t,” her grandfather warned.

“I’m going to see if I can help with Quintessence,” Bryn argued.

“Freeze.” Valmont’s fear sounded real. “Back up slowly.”

Okay. The hair on the back of Bryn’s neck stood up. Something was really wrong. She retreated toward Valmont. When she was back over the threshold of the door, she noticed he was staring at something beyond her in the room.

“What’s going on?”

“Your knight has a keen eye.” Her grandfather pointed at the wall next to where the man lay. Small silver darts were embedded in the bookshelf. “I’m guessing the poisonous darts that hit him are lodged in his back.”

“Poisonous darts? From where?” She scanned the room and noticed an open display case. “Do you think he took something from the case?”

“Something not meant for him,” Valmont said. “Do you remember what was in there?”

“Daggers,” Bryn said. “I remember seeing them last night. They were etched with different elements like your sword.”

“So the displays are booby trapped,” Valmont said.

A chill ran down Bryn’s spine. “We need to shut that case before someone else is hurt.”

One of the guards stepped forward. “Sir?”

“It has to be me,” Valmont said. “The artifacts are all meant for knights.”

No way. “How do you know they were meant for a hybrid knight? What if that case held items only the knight of a Black dragon could touch?”

Valmont paused. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

Footsteps rang out from the outer foyer. Medic Williams dashed into the room.

“Stop,” Bryn’s grandfather said. “The room can be lethal.”

Medic Williams looked around wide-eyed. “Good to know, but how can I treat the man if I can’t reach him?”

“Do you think those darts could puncture dragon scales?” Bryn asked. “I could shift and grab him.”

“No,” both Valmont and her Grandfather shouted at the same time.

“Fine.” Bryn held her hands up in surrender. “What’s your idea?”

“I believe if we shut that case, the room will be safe.” Her grandfather pointed at the medic. “Gently use your wind to shut that door.”

The medic produced a small twister in her hand and stretched it out across the room, nudging the door closed.

A sound like gears grinding drifted through the room.

“Did that case just reload?” Bryn asked.

“Probably.” Her grandfather waved his hand toward the man on the floor. “I believe it is safe for you to treat him now, although he might be past the point of help.”

The man on the floor was no longer twitching. The spittle foaming from his mouth had turned a reddish pink. His eyes staring up at the ceiling were milky white.

“Damn it.” She should have tried to help him.

The medic performed a quick examination and then rolled him over. “He was past help sixty seconds after these darts lodged in his back.” She pulled a phone from her pocket and spoke to someone about body bags. The fact that she used the plural of the term made Bryn wonder if more deaths were expected.

“The dagger.” Valmont pointed to silver knife etched with fire, which had been under the man’s body. “Should I try to return it to the case?”

“Does it speak to you?” Bryn asked.

“It’s whispering like the sword did. I think that means I can handle it without being attacked.”

“The case reacted to someone removing an item. In theory, putting one back should be safe,” her grandfather said.

“Or he could keep it,” Bryn said. “Since he is attuned to it.” She liked that idea a lot better.

Valmont retrieved the dagger and weighed it in his hand. “Mr. Sinclair, what would you like me to do?”

Her grandfather appeared pleased with Valmont’s question. “Replace it in the case.”

Not the option she would have chosen. Bryn bit her lip as Valmont found the mechanism that opened the glass. He replaced the knife and closed the door. No deadly darts appeared. Although the weird gear-grinding noise happened again.

A second medic appeared with the requested body bags. Bryn turned away. This wasn’t something she wanted to witness.

Valmont walked around so he was facing her. He looked at his watch. “Basic Movement will end in ten minutes. We should go to lunch if your grandfather doesn’t require your assistance.”

Bryn turned to her grandfather. “Do you still need me?”