Dragon Blood (Hurog #2)(36)
When Tisala followed Oreg into the library at Lord Duraugh's rented manor, they found Tosten waiting for them. Dark circles shadowed his eyes and he rubbed them wearily, setting aside the battered harp he'd been fingering.
"I found him," she told Tosten in a voice suitable to a house where people were sleeping.
"How was he?"
She looked away and said, "Oreg thinks they are using herbs - he wasn't himself." The image of Ward trying to bury himself under the straw haunted her, and she didn't see any reason to share it with his brother - especially when the effects were, she hoped, temporary.
Tosten turned to Oreg. "But he'll be all right?"
"I'm getting him out tonight," said Oreg in oblique reply. "Help me move this furniture, I need a clear space on the floor."
By the time they'd cleared the floor, Lord Duraugh, looking more tired than Tosten, had come up to see what the noise was.
Oreg produced a sheet of vellum and made Tisala stand over his shoulder as he drew the section of the Asylum where Ward was. When he was finished he had a fair map. Then he picked Tisala's memories to pieces again. She found she remembered details she couldn't possibly have: how many stone blocks there were between each doorway, where the paint was scratched on the inside of Ward's cell door, the shape of the lock.
When he was finished with her, Tisala sat down abruptly on a bench and realized he'd used some magic on her - she could feel its absence now that it was gone.
Without a word, Oreg took a piece of charcoal and began marking the polished wooden floor.
"What are you doing?" Tosten's voice startled Tisala. She'd forgotten he and Duraugh were in the room, too.
"Transportation spells without a definite destination are difficult in the best of times." Oreg replied. "This" - he paused in his drawing to gesture at the marks he'd made on the floor - "will help me return here if something goes wrong. Hopefully I'll be able to get myself to where they've stashed Ward, and then I can get us both out."
"They have the area magicked to prevent someone doing just that," said Duraugh. "I've asked a few friends about it - discreetly."
"Jakoven's pet wizards don't have the power to ward it against me," said Oreg contemptuously.
Tisala had watched her father's mage use symbols to work magic before, but there was something different about the way Oreg moved - like the difference between watching an artist and a talented amateur. Oreg never stopped to look something up in a book, never paused in the detailed lines he placed on the floor, though she could barely see the marks in the dim light. He never had to stop and go back to redraw anything. Even so it took him quite a while before he was satisfied.
After setting aside the charcoal, he jumped lightly over his artwork and sat, cross-legged, in the unmarked section he'd left in the middle. He closed his eyes and became still.
Nothing happened for such a long time that when the first few sparks sputtered from the marks on the floor, Tisala thought she was imagining things.
Then between one breath and the next the temperature in the room shot up from winter-cool to unbearably hot. Blue and gold sparks spewed from the black marks and lit the room, forcing Tisala to bring up her arm to protect her eyes.
When she lowered her arm, the room was thick with smoke and a dragon curled around itself where Oreg had been, filling the room.
Then Oreg stood in the dragon's place, staggered a few steps forward, and fell to his knees. Duraugh rushed to his side and helped him to a chair.
"Oreg?" he said. "Are you all right?"
The wizard nodded his head, breathing heavily. "I can't get to him," he said in a voice that shook. "I haven't seen wards like those since ... It's warded with dragon magic. I couldn't get through. If I were inside, with him, I might have been able to get him out - but not from here."
"They have a dragon?" asked Tosten tightly.
Oreg shook his head. "More likely some remnant piece - a tooth or scale would be enough."
"Are you sure you could get him out from inside?" Tisala asked.
Oreg smiled grimly. "Yes."
She rubbed her hands over her eyes. "I'll see what we can do. There is only one cleaner for that section. It'll be difficult to remove her again without arousing questions - not to mention the prevalence of mages who might notice a wizard strolling through their doors, for all that he's dressed like a cleaner."
8 - WARDWICK
What you do when no one is watching reveals your true character.
Day by day I was failing, hour by hour it was harder to ride the pain. The greater portion of the panic gripping me had nothing to do with the herbs in the water I drank; I lost hope.
Oreg, where are you?
Sometimes the demons brought me back to my cell when the morning sun trickled through the small, grated window far above me. I would stare at the pale light on the straw because the window hurt my eyes. In my more cognizant moments I realized they weren't letting me sleep.
At some point I quit eating the food they left, but I managed to remember that the water was important, and I gagged it down before crawling to my straw cave.
I could tell it was almost time for the monsters by the relative clearness of my thoughts. The door opened and I tried to pretend I wasn't there, burrowing into the straw until they couldn't find me.