The sun hasn’t risen yet, but the sky is starting to turn very faintly violet to the east. Leah wanders the halls in leggings and a half-buttoned jacket, combing through her hair with her fingers, finding her way down to the ground floor, her path full of false-starts and doubling back.
Sewheil won’t be in the hospital yet. Teo’s gone, who knows if Solace will show up eventually or if she’s got other plans. Adan doesn’t speak Volsti. John…I really shouldn’t encourage him. I don’t even know where his rooms are, and if I have to wander through every guard barracks asking for him people are going to assume things.
Jeno? No, god, she’s terrified of Eschen; she would crumple if I told her this – and frankly, if he’s somehow in my head, I don’t want to bring him near her.
He’s in my mind. He’s in my fucking mind. Even through the wards…how much can he see? Was he lying about the spell, what it was supposed to do? Was he just trying to keep me talking so he could do the final part, somehow, something?
No. If Eschen could get inside my mind, he wouldn’t be there as a silent observer. I’d know he was there. And we’d be fucked. This isn’t that. I can last until Seffon can figure out a way to sever the connection.
Seffon…I’ve bothered him so many times with this sort of thing. It can wait until morning. I’m being stupid. This can wait until morning.
But I am not going back to sleep until then.
She ends up making her way towards the stables, picking her way carefully across the grassy courtyard towards the half-open wood doors. Through her thin shoes, the grass feels cool and damp from dew, and every step leaves moisture around her ankles.
Inside she walks quietly down the length of the building, looking for Rip’s stall. She finds it near the middle, the bay horse within asleep but an ear flicking at her approach. When Leah looks over the door at him, the wood creaking under her hands, the horse lifts his head and watches her, getting to his feet with a grumbling whicker.
“It’s okay, Rip,” Leah says, holding a hand out as though he were a dog, getting her scent. “You’re just the only other person here who knows me well. Mind if I bunk here for the rest of the night?”
Leah pulls down a spare riding blanket and makes a cushion on the floor. She sits down against the stall door, head against the wood, and dozes, never quite letting herself fall asleep. The sound of leaves rustling in the forest occasionally sounds a frightening lot like the rushing of water, and Leah finds herself jolting back to attention every few minutes.
She can just see the lightness of sunrise through a heavy bank of clouds when the stable door opens and a stable-hand walks in, bleary-eyed, pushing a wheelbarrow loaded with bags of grain. He sees her and yelps loudly, dropping the handles of the wheelbarrow. Immediately a half-dozen of the horses start whinnying and stomping in alarm.
“Don’t mind me,” Leah says, pushing herself upright with stiff knees, picking up the blanket and beating the bits of hay off of it. She drapes it over the half-wall she’d taken it from and leaves. The stable-hand watches her go, mouth opening and closing wordlessly.
Groggy and stressed, she wanders through the halls up towards the residential area, checking first the library, then Seffon’s rooms, and then finally the dining area, before eventually finding him.
“Seffon,” she says, rubbing an eye and smiling grimly.
He meets her at the door of the dining area, looking her over in confusion. “Where’ve you been? You look exhausted – and you smell like horse.”
Leah thinks about bathing and shudders. “Security breach. Eschen’s in my head.”
Seffon’s hand flicks, grabbing a small white coral charm, but other than that he remains still. “What?”
“Not right now. When I sleep. Four words, A-B-H-E. I think the first was…Azzi-something?”
“What happened?” He takes her arm very gingerly and leads her into the dining room. “Areiu, go fin yõ mothẽ, tell hẽ teu my us en th touẽ.”
Areiu, who had been making mountains out of her mashed sweet potato, looks up in curiosity, and then in worry. “Es Syl okay?”
“I’m fine, Areiu, go find your mother,” Leah says reassuringly.
Seffon sets her down on a cushion and pushes a mug of sweetened mint tea into her hands. Areiu watches a few seconds more, then gets up and rushes out into the halls, her fork forgotten in the mountain, slowly tipping over until it clatters against the plate.
“I fell asleep, and he was there. Like the Bitter Dream thing with Jeno’s memories, except it wasn’t a memory. It was just us in a place, talking. The first few times I woke up right away, but every time I fell asleep I went back there.” The words rush out, Leah holding the tea in both hands, not noticing it. The steam rises around her face and she puts it down.
“Where were you, in the dream?”
“In the Valerid estate,” Leah says, not entirely willing to say more.
“And he invoked a spell while you were there?”
“No, he told me the name. It was in Ched, I don’t remember it…Azzi, hed, enn…” Leah shakes her head and reaches out to grab Seffon’s arm. “He said that the spell was supposed to trap me, and let him access my memories while I slept. Apparently the wards were enough to stop him from fully taking over, but he still got in.”
Seffon mutters in thought, too quietly to make out words, eyes darting over Leah’s face. He puts a warm flatbread in her hands and insists that she eat, then helps her up and starts leading her to the tower, a hand lightly on her elbow the whole time, keeping her supported. Leah walks numbly, eating the bread, hoping that he has something planned.
They arrive at the tower, and Seffon directs her to sit on the stone table; Leah does so, still nibbling at the bread. Seffon takes out a block of red pigment and a silver bowl, then begins preparing a bright orange ink.
Sewheil arrives as he finishes, and Leah can just see Areiu’s head peeking around the door, wide-eyed. “Ua es e?”
“Eschen’s got a pin in Leah’s mind, somehow, probably from the last time they met. Check the wound, see if there’s a physical component.”
Sewheil goes over to Leah and presses her gently back until she is lying against the stone. She lifts Leah’s shirt and examines the stab wound, fingers tracing the pink skin around the scab, eyes glowing blue. “No poison, no fragmens, notheng.”
“Alright,” Seffon says, carrying the bowl over. He takes Leah’s shoulder and helps her sit up again, then takes a fine paintbrush and begins drawing a pattern over her head and neck, part rune and part something else from what Leah can tell.
When it is done, he lays his hands gently on either side of her head, thumbs on her temples and fingers meeting at the back. He very quietly starts whispering something, and Leah does not interrupt him
The spell lasts a long time; his eyes dart over the runes on her face as he adjusts his hands slightly based on whatever he sees. Leah feels like ants are marching in lines over her skin, and winces a bit. Seffon does not falter.
The feeling mounts until Leah is doing her best not to scratch at her face. Finally there is a sudden sting, like an elastic snapping down on skin, and Seffon stops reciting, pulling his hands away.
“Did it work?” Leah asks, reaching up a hand to gently touch her face, careful not to smudge the ochre.
“He’s talented,” Seffon says, musingly. “Yes, it worked. I can’t say for sure what he used, but it was strong. Very strong.”
Leah nods nervously. Sewheil takes Leah’s head and traces a rune over it, hand glowing white. “Thẽ es no laseng effe. Th spell es gaun.”
“He’s gone?”
“I’m not certain he was ever here, but he’s certainly not going to be coming back to your dreams.” Seffon looks over her face and her messy clothing. “So if you’d like to go catch up on sleep, you are safe to do so.”
“I’m fine,” Leah says, a little quickly. “I’ll just…get cleaned up. What needs to be done today?”
Sewheil helps her off the stone table. “Yu res worseneng yõ weun, ef yu restnau.”
Seffon nods, putting away the spell components. “You should be taking things slowly. You’ve still got a pretty significant wound in your side, and there’s nothing we can do to speed the healing.”
Leah nods, straightening her shirt awkwardly. Areiu watches all this from the doorway, silent and attentive; Leah gives her a quick smile, and the child does not respond, only continuing to look about the room.
“Areiu, go finish breakfast,” Seffon says, noticing her. The girl straightens and shakes her head. “Areiu…”
“Is Shield better now?” she asks.
“Yes, Shield’s fine,” Seffon says patiently.
“Are you?” Areiu turns her large brown eyes on Leah.
Leah nods and brushes the hair away from her face. “It wasn’t anything serious. It’s all better now.”
Areiu nods in satisfaction, and reaches up a hand expectantly. Sewheil steps forward and takes it, then leads the child back to the abandoned dining area.
Watching them go, Leah feels a certain unease. She turns back to Seffon. “Was it serious?”
Seffon rocks his head a little, uncertain. “I can’t say, without knowing the exact spell. What did you say it was called?”
“I can’t remember exactly. It was four words long, and started with Azzi-something, then ‘B,’ then ‘H,’ then ‘E.’”
“And when did the dream take place? And where?”
“Um…”
“It doesn’t make sense that the wards around the stables should be weaker…”
“Oh!” Leah relaxes, and Seffon turns to her in curiosity. “It wasn’t in the stables; it happened in my rooms. I woke up a bit before sunset, feeling a little…exposed. I wasn’t sure where to go, so I went there. I just needed to be out of my room and near something familiar – and right now, weirdly, Vivitha’s horse is the most familiar face in this place.”
Seffon looks at her a little oddly at that. “I take second place to a horse?”
Leah bursts out into stressed laughter. “No, but…everyone else either doesn’t speak Volsti, or I didn’t know where they were, or…”
Seffon approaches and sits on the stone table. Leah joins him, swinging her feet a bit. He waits for her to continue.
“I’ve spent so much time with you, since I first came to the Hold. I know almost no-one else here. It seems like…I have nothing to do here, if you’re not with me. And lately, especially…it seems that I always have to wake you up in the mornings with some injury or emergency or other.” She sighs. “I didn’t want to bother you.”
Seffon leans over and shoulders her, swinging a foot to match hers. “I’m upset that you waited so long before coming to me with this; when someone is tormenting you with magic, you are welcome to wake me at any hour of the night. I want you safe, Leah.”
Leah grins a bit. “I’ll remember that. So long as I know I’m not being a bother.”
“You never are, no matter the hour,” he says, grinning down at her. The grin fades to a pensive look. “Just…knock first.”
Leah doubles over with laughter again, smiling wide.
