Zollin began to shake from the cold. His body temperature had risen as he fought off the poison, and the snow had melted into his clothes. He could feel that the last of the poison was almost out of his body, but he had to be sure. He pushed the blood out of the wound.
“Okay,” he said through chattering teeth. “I got it.”
Kelvich grabbed a handful of snow and scrubbed his back.
“It’s probably not a good idea to leave the poison on his skin,” he said.
Quinn nodded and waited while the older man did his best to clean the tainted blood off of Zollin. Then they carried him back inside. He was shuttering violently from the cold. The townspeople all backed away as if they were afraid the poison might somehow infect them. Mansel had thrown several logs on the fire and it was roaring in the fireplace. Brianna had gathered an armful of woolen blankets and met them at the fireplace.
“We need to get these wet clothes off of him,” Kelvich said, and he began tugging at Zollin’s boots.
Brianna felt her face growing red as they struggled with Zollin’s pants. She handed the blankets to Mansel and turned away. She was shocked to see the townspeople staring at Zollin. She stepped in front of Zollin to obscure their view. His pants came off next, and he curled into a ball in front of the fire. Kelvich and Quinn wrapped him in the blankets, rubbing his body to restore his circulation. It took several minutes before his shaking finally stopped. His back burned from the deep cut his father had been forced to make. Zollin concentrated and healed the wound. Finally he opened his eyes.
“I’m alright,” he said. “But hungry.”
Quinn dropped onto a bench, the relief on his face all too evident. He looked more exhausted than Zollin had ever seen him. It was if he had aged ten years.
“Good thing Brianna made you a new shirt,” Mansel said. “This one’s ruined.”
Brianna turned back around and there were tears in her eyes.
“What about the assassin?” she asked. “He’s still out there somewhere.”
“Not for long,” Zollin said. “Mansel, fetch me some clothes. We’re going hunting.”
Chapter 4
Ellie hurried forward with half a loaf of crusty bread and some warm broth.
“You aren’t really going out there?” said one of the town elders.
Zollin only nodded as he tore off a chunk of the bread and soaked it in the broth. Buck, the inn keeper, brought out a tray with clean cups and a bottle of wine. He poured some for Zollin, then Quinn and Kelvich.
“It’s dark out there,” Henrik said. “What do you expect to find in the dark?”
“What do you suggest we do?” Zollin said. “Sit here and wait for the assassin to return? I’m sick to death of your whining, old man. You are never pleased. Either come up with a solution or keep your mouth shut.”
“Zollin,” Quinn said, surprised at his son’s manner.
Henrik was stammering, unsure what to say. Zollin’s power was like a living flame. It felt good to let it burn, he thought to himself. He was tired of feigning humility. He had the power to crush everyone in the village and wasn’t going to let them dictate his future anymore.
He crammed his mouth full of food again. It was bland, the broth only lukewarm, but it was food, and he could feel his strength returning. In fact, he was feeling stronger than ever. The power was somehow enhancing his physical attributes. He couldn’t keep from smiling. Nor could he remember why he had kept himself cut off from his own power for so long. His staff had been dropped on the floor when his father and Mansel carried him outside. It had been a faithful companion on his journey, but he saw it now for what it was: merely a crutch. Its power seemed dim in the flames of his own magic.
“Perhaps we should consider our options,” Kelvich suggested. He had a strange look on his face, Zollin thought.
“Why? It’s just one man,” Zollin said.
“We don’t know that.”
“We know that someone is trying to kill me. I’ll sleep better knowing they’re dead and I’m alive.”
“He’s right son,” Quinn said. “Going out alone might be just what they want you to do.”
“I won’t be alone,” Zollin said. “Mansel’s going with me.” He took a long drink of the wine.
He normally didn’t care for strong drink, but, at that moment, he thought he had never tasted better. He sopped up the last of the broth with a bite of bread and finished his hasty meal. He would need more later, he thought, but he was anxious to find his assailant.
“Zollin, I think perhaps you were right about your power. Why don’t you pull back a bit?” Kelvich urged. “It seems to be affecting you.”
“Yes,” Zollin said, “it is. In a good way.”
“Son, think about what you’re doing. Let’s calm down and form a plan.”
“Calm down?” Zollin said angrily. “That bastard just tried to kill me. More than once. I’ll calm down when he’s dead.”
He was on the verge of shouting when Brianna laid her hand on his.
“Zollin,” she said softly. “This isn’t you. Come back to us.”
The young wizard was about to snap at her, but there was something in her eyes that made him pause. He felt a stirring in his heart—not magic, but something equally strong. He didn’t want to disappoint her. She was looking at him as if she could see his soul. He had to fight off the urge to shake her hand off his and charge out into the night, blasting everything in his path until he found the killer who had hunted him down across the snowy, highland valley. Instead, he took a deep breath and pulled the magic back into his inner reservoir.
A wave of fatigue washed over him, and he felt his eyelids droop a little. He smiled at Brianna weakly and was thrilled by the twinkle in her eye as she looked at him. Then Todrek’s ghostly image appeared to Zollin’s eyes, and he looked away.
“Okay,” he said quietly.
There was an audible sigh of relief from Quinn, and the tension in the room seemed to ease a bit. Mansel came back into the room with a change of clothes for Zollin. He stood up on shaky legs, the blankets still wrapped around him, and took the clothes. Kelvich helped him leave the common room to change.
“So, what’s the plan?” Mansel asked.
“I think the best thing to do is to bar the doors and take turns standing watch,” Quinn said, his voice raised to carry to the townspeople and not just Mansel. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for any of you to try and go home tonight. In the morning, we can search the village for this assassin.”
There was murmuring, but no one seemed to disagree. Ollie and Buck served more wine and ale, while Mansel and Quinn secured the doors. When Zollin came back to the common room, he asked for more food. Ollie served him a plate of broiled mutton with potatoes and stewed vegetables. He ate slowly, watching the room. He had retrieved his staff, and he sat near the fire. He was still cold despite the warm clothes he was wearing. Kelvich joined some of the other locals to discuss their situation, and Brianna took a seat beside Zollin.
“Thanks again for the clothes,” Zollin said. “I really appreciate them.”
“You’ll look handsome in them,” she said teasingly.
“Only because they are so finely made,” he added.
They settled into a comfortable silence. It was the first time since they had left Tranaugh Shire that Zollin had been comfortable with Brianna. Her beauty overwhelmed him. His guilt at having feelings for his best friend’s widow made him feel terrible, but just being close to Brianna made him feel wonderful. The contrasting emotions warred inside him, but he tried not to let it show. Brianna had been distant, but perhaps it was just because she had been working on his birthday present.
“So, how is Mansel?” Zollin asked.
“Fine, why?” she asked.
“I just know he’s...” Zollin wasn’t sure how to finish his thoughts.
“He’s what?”
“Well, I don’t want to interfere or anything.”
“Interfe
re with what?” she asked with a puzzled look.
“I know,” he said, staring at the floor.
He was silently kicking himself for bringing Mansel up at all, but he didn’t want to do anything stupid that would make her feel uncomfortable. He was convinced that she and Mansel were seeing each other, although they seemed to be hiding it. He couldn’t blame her, Mansel was stronger and older. He was a much better match than a fledgling wizard.
“You know what?”
“I know you’re together,” he said in a quiet voice.
When the group had first come to Brighton’s Gate, they had pretended to be a family. Zollin doubted that anyone still thought that they were, but they hadn’t openly denied it either. He didn’t want to be overheard by the townsfolk and give them something else to gossip about.
“We are not,” she said. “I don’t know why you would even think it,” she said defensively.
“I was... I mean, I didn’t mean to upset you,” he stammered.
“Look, Zollin, I don’t know what you think or why you think it. Every time you look at me, you get a strange look on your face like you’ve done something wrong. You avoid me at every turn. And whenever things seem good between us, you say something stupid, like you know about me and Mansel.”
“I wasn’t trying to be rude,” he said.
“It isn’t rude, it’s just...” she thought for a second. “It’s just unnecessary.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” he said.
“Why can’t you just tell me how you feel about me?”
“How I feel?” he asked, suddenly very uncomfortable.
“Yes...?” she said, drawing out the word into a question.
“I feel good about you,” he said. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“But why can’t you look at me?” she asked.
“I can look at you,” he said, staring at her hands in her lap.
“No, you can’t. You feel guilty because you blame me for Todrek’s death,” she said quietly.
“No, I don’t,” he said rather loudly. “Why would you say that?”
“Because I dragged him after you,” she said simply.
“He died because of me,” Zollin said. “I should have protected him. He was my best friend.”
“There was nothing you could do,” she said softly, laying her hand on his.
He felt an electric tingle run up his arm; it was intoxicating. Her hand was soft and warm. He looked at her, this time he pushed back the image of his friend.
“I don’t blame you for anything,” he said.
“And I don’t blame you,” she replied.
They sat there for a long moment, and then Quinn came trudging up.
“We’re going to take turns standing watch,” he said. “We’ll look for the intruder in the morning. This way we keep the people here safe and stand the best chance of finding this assassin.”
“He could be miles away by morning,” Zollin argued.
“He’s here for a kill, he won’t leave until he’s gotten it.”
“He probably thinks he did,” Brianna said. “There’s no way Zollin should have survived the poison dart.”
“She’s right. We could lose him,” Zollin said, suddenly feeling pressure to find the assassin. He had been content to sit with Brianna a moment before, but that peaceful moment was gone forever.
“That might not be so bad,” Kelvich said as he joined their conversation. “What if we pretend that you are dead? The assassins won’t come back, we may even be able to sneak out of the valley come spring, before anyone realizes Zollin is still alive.”
“For that to work, the people here would have to believe he was really dead,” Quinn said. “That’s the only way to get the rumor mill going.”
“So we stage his death,” Kelvich said. “He spends the rest of the winter at my cabin. It buys you some time and perhaps even some good will with the people here.”
“I don’t think-” Brianna began, but Quinn cut her off.
“No, it’s a good idea. We came here to have some time to plan our next move. If everyone thinks Zollin is dead, we won’t have to be looking over our shoulders all the time. We might even be able to settle into one of the other valley towns.”
“The Torr will know I’m alive, Dad,” Zollin said. “I felt the wizard die on the road. They’ll know.”
“Well, at least we’ll have a little more time,” Quinn said with a pained expression on his face.
The group was silent for a moment while they considered their next move. Zollin knew that Quinn wanted nothing more than to return to a quiet life. He felt a wave of remorse that he had driven his father from the home and life he’d worked so hard to build in Tranaugh Shire. It seemed like Quinn had been making sacrifices for the people he loved all his life, but Zollin couldn’t focus on that now. He would give his father the life he wanted, if that were possible, but it wasn’t. Still, he could encourage his father to settle here. He didn’t have to endure the danger that Zollin constantly found himself in.
“Let’s do it,” Zollin said. “If the people here think that I’m dead, they might not push so hard for you to leave.”
“But we won’t be able to see you,” Brianna said, and Zollin thought he heard a note of desperation in her voice.
“It’s only for another month or two,” Zollin said. “When the snows melt, we can decide what to do next.”
“I think it’s the smartest thing,” Quinn said.
“I have some gypsum flower in my kit,” Kelvich said. “It’ll put you into a deep sleep. When you’re found in the morning, everyone will assume the poison killed you in the night. Then I’ll offer to keep the body at my cabin until the ground is soft enough to bury you. No one will argue with that. If they don’t see you as the source of all their problems, they will soon. This way, you’ll be out of sight and out of mind.”
“Okay,” Zollin said. “That sounds reasonable enough.”
“I’ll prepare it,” Kelvich said, then he left the little group.
“Mansel is guarding the back door,” Quinn said. “I’ll be watching the common room. Brianna, you stay with Zollin. When you wake up in the morning, make a show of not being able to wake Zollin up. Work up some tears if you can.”
Brianna swallowed then nodded, just as Kelvich came back to their table.
“Here you are,” he said loudly enough for everyone to hear. “Drink up, you’ll feel better soon. It’s a miracle that poison didn’t kill you.”
Zollin nodded. His voice was too dry to speak. He knew that going along with the plan to fake his death was the best option. But he had hoped to be able to spend more time with Brianna. He had no idea how fast the Gypsum Flower would work, or even for how long, but he could sense the herb’s potency. He took a drink of the wine but couldn’t taste anything different.
“Are you okay?” Brianna asked him.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said.
“I’ll miss you,” she said quietly.
He smiled at her, his eyes drinking in her beauty. Her face was perfect, he thought. Her eyes held his even as his eyelids began to droop.
“Finish your drink,” Kelvich said, smiling, but the authority of the suggestion wasn’t lost on Zollin.
He turned up the wooden cup and finished the wine. His head swam and the room seemed to spin around him as he lowered the cup. He yawned but couldn’t help but notice Brianna’s disappointed look.
“Is it supposed to work that fast?” she whispered to Kelvich.
“It’s fairly fast acting, especially if the person is tired already,” the sorcerer said.
“I think I’m going to lie down,” Zollin said, his words running together.
He stumbled over to the fireplace and stretched out on the floor. This was common during the heavy snows that often fell in the Northern Highlands; in fact, everyone in the inn would eventually find a place to rest in the common room. Brianna sighed and took a sip of her own wine. She felt frustrated tha
t something always seemed to come between her and Zollin.
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