Dragon Blood (Hurog #2)(34)

The section of the asylum where mages were kept was not very large, and Tisala found Ward in the second cell she cleaned. He was huddled in the corner of the room, half covered with straw.

She said his name tentatively because even with the skylight, it was dimmer in the cell than it was in the torch-lit corridor; and because, though it was hard to believe that there were two blond men of such stature in this particular section of the Asylum, it was harder to believe that Ward would ever cower from anything.

She shut the door and he came instantly to his feet with the speed and grace that always surprised her in such a large man. The maneuver put his face in the light briefly and she couldn't deny it was he. He wore little more than a loincloth and in less than two weeks he'd lost a stone of weight.

"Ward," she said a second time, realizing he must have been putting on an act. She'd never seen him act a part before, though she knew he was very good at it. The extreme weight loss worried her, but at least he was still whole. Her own recent experience in Jakoven's power sent her gaze to his hands, but she counted five fingers on each hand with one dirty nail apiece.

But he still didn't say anything, just stared at her. Goose-flesh crept up her neck, and she knew he wasn't acting. The fear she read in his eyes was real.

Ward was afraid of her. The realization stunned her into tears. Her Ward wasn't afraid of anything. Instinctively she stepped closer to him.

He held up a hand that shook slightly, but the palm-up gesture was universal.

"Tis." He said, his voice a slow grumbling growl that held more than a touch of menace. "Stay back." Then in a soft voice, almost a whisper, he added, "Please?"

For an instant she was hurt, but then reason took over. Whatever they had done to Ward, it had not made him slow of body. His rush to stand up had been quick. She'd been in too many fights to miss the heavy breathing and vibrating readiness. Whatever the cause, she'd frightened him. She had him cornered. She didn't really believe he would hurt her, but she backed away.

She took her eyes off his face because eye contact could feel threatening. Some visceral part of her protested the move, recognizing the danger he presented. But, out of the corner of her eye, she saw him relax marginally.

As she cleaned the cell, Ward slid back down the wall until he was crouched the way he had been when she'd come in. He drew the straw around him until it covered his legs and was scattered over most of the rest of him.

Tisala was careful to wipe her eyes and blank her face when she left Ward's cell. The other inhabitants of the wizard's block were more recognizably hurt, showing cuts and missing pieces. In one of the cells, the guards held the prisoner, who alternatively laughed and cried, while she cleaned.

There were many things that she despised about Jakoven, things that had authored the painful decision creating the distance between her father and her. But though his sins were legion, she had never hated him before today.

Tisala strode through the darkness of the tavern toward the back corner where Oreg waited for her.

She sat across from him and leaned forward. "You've got to get him out of there."

Oreg lowered his eyelids so she couldn't read his reaction, but his voice was mild. "If you found him - I can get him out."

Relief washed over her. Oreg would get him out. Of course he would.

"I didn't think anyone could lose so much weight in such a short period of time," she said. "He's lost at least a stone."

"Working magic can do that," said Oreg. "Tell me about what you saw."

With a handful of questions he got more information out of her than she remembered noticing, the way Ward's eyes had appeared black rather than brown, his swift coordinated movements contrasting to his slurred, labored speech.

Finally, Oreg tossed a silver coin on the table - too much, but Tisala didn't protest. She just took the arm he offered her and strode out of the tavern by his side.

He walked with controlled violence. Tisala didn't disturb him with talk because she felt the same need for action, the same fury. She hadn't forgotten that they'd met at the tavern so she could take Oreg to meet with Rosem, but she didn't want to take him there in this mood.

They walked through a small area shopping district, and he paused in front of a building with a mortar and pestle over the door, an apothecary shop. It was locked up tight at this time of night, of course, though there was light above where the proprietor doubtless lived.

"Herbs," said Oreg abruptly. "There are herbs that can make a person overwrought and confused. You said that he was not otherwise hurt."

Herbs suggested that the condition Ward was in was temporary.

"I told you the cell wasn't well lit," she said, "but I would have noticed any sizable wound or bruise. They're keeping whatever damage they're doing from showing." Maybe it was all herbs, she hoped.

"I'll get Ward out tonight," said Oreg. He resumed walking. His pace was still quick, but it was no longer urgent.

The air smelled of horse manure and other, even less savory, city smells, but it was clean and pure compared to what she'd been smelling all day.

"Tell me," said Oreg, "about the Asylum wing where Ward is. You said the king's wizards have a laboratory in the mage's wing."

"Yes, but I didn't see inside. It's kept locked."