Page 24 of The Mage's Rake
“What are you thinking about?”
Alan couldn’t meet my gaze. He continued to blush and glare furiously at our entwined fingers now lying on my chest.
“This and that,” I said lightly, struggling to find the courage and the words to speak of what had woken from slumber most recently.
I was barely ready to admit the words to myself. I could scarcely share them with Alan, but I didn’t want him to worry about me either.
“I just have a lot on my mind,” I said. “So, I’m not ailing or anything—not more than usual beyond the curse.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” Alan hesitated and then continued, “If you do wish to share anything with me… I hope you feel comfortable doing so, Hugh. Whatever it is, you needn’t bear it alone.”
“Thank you, Alan.”
I said it and meant it. He turned even more red, if possible. His tail flicked back and forth in mild agitation. I allowed him to steer the conversation to safer topics—to the matter of the poison investigation and other discoveries made about the potion analysis. According to Alan, he had left early to deliver some medication to a noble’s family who had caught the ague. It was the same cough and fever that afflicted the young kit in the Lower Rime. Now returned from his duty, Alan was able to focus on the next stage of analysis.
Feeling better, I left for a short time. There were duties that I needed to carry out before noon—guards to talk with, schedules to arrange for the holidays, vantage points to inspect along the walls, and other mild repairs to oversee. I also took the time to compose a short report for Landis and Gareth, mailing the latter off with a trusted courier. With everything completed, I moseyed about the hallways restlessly until my feet inevitably returned me to Alan’s alchemist laboratory.
I found him sitting on a chair, boots propped up before the fire, elbows on his knees, and chin in the palms of his hands. His violet eyes were distant and unfocused behind his flame-reflected spectacles. I sat down in the chair opposite him and waited for him to slowly come out of his ruminations. When he grimaced at me, I raised an eyebrow.
“Have you ever had an idea and thought it was instantly mad and foolish? But you can’t stop thinking about it?”
“All the time?” I said roguishly. “Like the way I can’t stop thinking about your—“
“Alright there.” Alan raised a hand and flicked his long white braid over his shoulder. “I know where this is going, and no.”
“What crazy idea do you have?”
“Just a thought.”
“Might as well say it. What’s the harm?”
“I’ll sound… idiotic,” Alan said.
“It’s just me. And I don’t think you’re an idiot.”
“Hm.”
After a moment, Alan roused himself. He began to precisely lay before me the results of his analysis. The potion that had been used as a step toward the curse had been made with a very specific shadowmoss. An herb that he was now certain was lower quality and undoubtedly circulating the black market. There was something else, however, that had stood out.
“The other herb you may have heard me mention is perallin,” said Alan. He spoke slowly and carefully as though picking apart his own words mentally. “An herb from the east, brought in usually by caravan. A very distinctive herb, but there are… variations and of course quality can impact the efficacy.”
“The east…?”
“Yes. A dark substance imbued with shadow aether, used for things like curses… and poisons.”
Poisons.I raised my head then and fixed my gaze on him.
“The same poison on the assassin’s weapons?” I probed.
“Indeed. The very same. In fact, I could almost say… I could make a very good guess… It’s almost as if…” Alan blurted it out in a rush: “It’s the same batch of perallin. At the very least, the herbs were the same age, type, and quality. A coincidence? Perhaps. Undoubtedly. But what if… I cannot help but wonder… what if.”
It made sense. As crazy as it sounded, I could see someone targeting me, if only to remove one of Landis’s key supports. Everyone knew that Gareth and I had been particularly instrumental in keeping the young prince alive during the war. The reason why Landis had been nowhere near the battlefield of Marrasol was due to our strategic plan to whisk Landis away from Rimefrost. For a good year, we had guarded him at Baywaters, Gareth’s estate to the east.
“After last night, I am more inclined to think it very probable,” I said. “I don’t mean to puff up my importance, but someone like Lord Morne could be working to isolate Landis.”
“Yes.”
Alan didn’t look too happy about his discovery, but I felt more optimistic. Alan had uncovered so much already that I was certain that he’d be able to figure out how to nullify the curse. I battled the urge to cross the short space between us and take him into my arms. Alan’s slender shoulders sagged a little, but I beamed at him, sending him as much cheer as I could.
