Page 62 of The Dragonrider and the Void
“Well, Edgar, it looks like you’ve had a rough night.” Venrick managed a smile despite the pain coursing through him. “So have I.”
Edgar stared at the black lines creeping across Venrick’s skin. “What’s wrong with you?”
“A spell. Not a pleasant one.” Venrick knelt beside the boy, ignoring the protest from his own body. “May I look at your wounds?”
After a moment’s consideration, Edgar nodded warily.
Venrick gently examined the cut on the boy’s side. It was deep but had mostly stopped bleeding, though infection would be a concern if it wasn’t properly treated. The ankle was a simple sprain, painful but not broken.
“I can bind that cut,” Venrick said, reaching for the hem of his own tunic. “It will help until you can reach a healer.”
“Why would you help me?” Edgar asked, suspicion clear in his young voice. “If you’re an enemy of the Keep.”
Venrick paused, considering how to answer. The corruption from the King’s spell chose that moment to flare within him again, sending molten agony racing along his nerves. His vision darkened at the edges, and he had to brace himself against the wall to avoid collapsing.
When the wave passed, he found Edgar watching him with a mixture of fear and concern.
“I’m not an enemy of the Keep,” Venrick said finally, tearing a strip of fabric from his tunic. “Or of its people. I’m trying to stop something terrible from happening.”
As he wrapped the makeshift bandage around Edgar’s midsection, Venrick found himself explaining the scenario. He didn’t use the full truth, which would sound like madness to the boy, but a simplified version.
“The King’s greed has gone beyond the best interests of Lamar. He’s become involved with dangerous magic,” he said, securing the bandage. “The kind that hurts innocent people. My friends and I discovered this, and now we’re trying to find a way to stop it.”
“But the King protects Lamar,” Edgar protested, though with less conviction than before. “The Paragons all serve him. They are heroes.”
“Many of them are and they’re doing what they believe is right,” Venrick said carefully, “But people in power don’t always tell the truth about what they’re doing to those who follow them.” He moved to examine the boy’s ankle, gently probing the swollen joint. “Does your family live in the Keep?”
Edgar shook his head. “Lower city. My mother works in the laundry. I was chosen for messenger duty because I’m fast.” His face fell. “Or I was, before this.”
The sound of distant footsteps echoed through the tunnels, still far off but growing closer. Venrick’s time was running out.
He knew what he should do. The mission came first. He needed to get the ritual pages to Hardin, no matter the cost. That was what Lark had sacrificed herself for. That was what might save them all from the Void Drinker and the coming Flashover.
But as he looked at the injured boy before him, Venrick couldn’t bring himself to simply leave.
His gaze fell on the metal pages beside him, their ancient text glinting in the dim light.The corruption seeks division. Unity is its bane.
He formed a plan. It was desperate, risky, but perhaps their only chance.
“Edgar,” he said, making his decision, “do you think you can make it to the eastern service entrance if I help you?”
The boy considered this, then nodded cautiously. “I think so. There’s a passage that connects to the kitchens, and from there it’s not far.”
“Good.” Venrick reached for the metal pages, quickly sorting through them. His fingers found the one with the most complete section of readable text. A page containing the core of the binding ritual.
He carefully separated it from the others.
“I need your help,” Venrick said, holding out the single page. “This is very important. There’s a man waiting near the eastern service entrance. He’s a young adult, brown hair, brown eyes, and he has a subtle mustache and goatee. He’s a skilled bard. His name is Hardin. I need you to get this to him.”
Edgar stared at the metal page, then back at Venrick. “Why me? Why don’t you take it yourself?”
“Because I don’t think I can make it there before the guards find me,” he admitted. “And this information needs to reach my friends.”
Understanding dawned in the boy’s eyes. “You’re going to lead them away. Create a diversion.”
Venrick managed a smile. “Smart lad. So, will you help me? Help all of us?”
Edgar hesitated only briefly before accepting the metal page, carefully tucking it inside his tunic. “What should I tell the bard, Hardin?”
