When The Petal Fell

22-1

22

With Pirizd leaning upon Sora's spear, Klaron and Sora carried Dūr to the nearest Watch House of the Underside Free Watch, leaving instructions to bind him and deliver him to the Top-Side gaol. The binding, Klaron thought, should be unnecessary, but she didn't want to take chances with this man. He seemed clever enough to pretend to be mindless.

She didn't think he had any power left, however. The burning of his eyes seemed proof enough that channeling all that essence without his wand in hand had burned him out. How he survived, she couldn't begin to imagine, but survive he did. He hadn't even made a sound since his defeat.

It took them some time to reach the Top-Side, helping Pirizd hobble his way. He seemed empty, now, a shadow of his former self. Several times she caught him screwing up his eyes in concentration. No doubt grasping at the possibility that his path to magic had not left him. She knew it had, though. She had seen it before and a mage knows when they lose their power. He didn't feel it now, but, later, he would thank the Patrons that losing his magic was the least that could have happened. He lived. Diminished, but alive. It could have been much worse.

Passing the Palace Guards, handing over the borrowed sword, she watched as Sora gave the spear away, reluctant, this time. No doubt she would take up the offer of a spear if Klaron gave her the chance.

The halls of the Palace of Words echoed with their footsteps as they climbed the stairs. Few people walked the many corridors and hallways of the Palace at this time of night and Klaron found herself thankful of that. Not having to suffer the stares and the wrinkled noses. She knew the three of them looked like beggars, at the moment, and smelled worse. Still not cleaned from their first foray into the Tweens.

She had offered to take Pirizd to the healers, to begin healing upon his ankle and assess the severity of his magical injury, but he insisted upon seeing the Lord Protector with her and Sora. The last few steps, down the final hallway, seemed to take so long, but she knew the reason why. Exhaustion, the inevitable loss of that feeling of battle, where senses became sharp, minds focussed and strength felt increased. When that leaves, a person feels lesser, somehow.

The guards at the door to Rifnarus' chambers gave them sad, fearful looks, even as one pushed the double doors wide for them to enter, and Klaron saw why.

Rifnarus stood, his hands clasped behind his back, staring at a sheet covered body upon the floor in the centre of the room where last they saw Cierene knelt, surrounded by Angar and Vronjas, the knife at her throat. She found herself carrying more of Pirizd's weight as Sora made a pained moan, running towards the sheet covered body.

"No. No. Young woman! It isn't the Lady Cierene!" Rifnarus caught Sora in time, before she fell to her knees beside the body. "It's my Thought Mage, Angar."

Sora looked at Rifnarus and then the sheet covered body, fighting against Rifnarus' grasp and then relaxed as she heard his words. Her eyes flickered around the room, searching for her friend.

"Where is she?" Sora stepped away from Rifnarus, wiping her eyes with her fingers.

"I had my people return her to the Court of Blossoms. She's been through a great deal." Rifnarus surprised Klaron by giving Sora a kindly, comforting smile. A rare thing from the Lord Protector.

"Then I take my leave." Sora spun on her heel and headed for the doors, stopping only to give Klaron and Pirizd a nod. "Klaron, Pirizd."

"Sora." Klaron gave the debt collector a low nod, showing her respect for her actions that day, and Sora left the room, almost running.

"Quite a remarkable woman." Rifnarus watched Sora leave, that calculating look upon his face. "I must find something worthy of her talents. I'll get Vocha on that, later."