Nightshade crawled out from his hiding place. He didn’t have much time. The spell would not last long.
“Help!” he shouted, coughing in the smoke. “Help me! I need help! Rhys is hurt! Abbot! Someone! Anyone!”
No one came. The priests and the Abbot were out in the street, fighting a battle that was, by the sounds of it, still raging and growing worse. The fire, too, appeared to be spreading, for the chamber was now obscured in smoke, and he could see flames shooting up over the tops of the trees.
Nightshade grabbed hold of the bone spear. Krell was glaring at him from out of the eye sockets of his helm and cursing him roundly. Nightshade searched for a fleshy place he could skewer with the spear, but the bone armor covered every bit of the man’s body. In desperation, Nightshade struck Krell on his helmed head. Krell blinked at the blow and snarled a nasty word and flailed about, trying to grab the kender. Krell was still under the effects of the mystic spell, however, and he was too exhausted to move. He sank back weakly.
Nightshade bashed Krell in the head again, and Krell groaned. The kender hit Krell until he quit groaning and quit moving. Nightshade would have continued hitting Krell except the spear broke. Nightshade eyed him. The kender didn’t think his foe was dead, just knocked senseless, which meant that Krell would come around eventually and when he did, he’d be in an extremely bad mood. Nightshade knelt beside Rhys.
Mina was wriggling about on the floor, trying to claim his attention, but he’d get to her in a minute.
“How did you do that?” Mina demanded. “How did you make that purple light?”
“Not now,” Nightshade snapped. “Rhys, wake up!”
Nightshade shook his friend by the shoulder, but Rhys lay unmoving. His skin was ashen. Nightshade took hold of Rhys’ scrip, intending to use it as a pillow. But when he lifted Rhys’ head, Nightshade saw a pool of blood on the floor. He drew back his hand. It was covered in blood. Nightshade knew another mystical spell with healing properties and he tried calling it to mind, but he was flustered and upset and couldn’t remember the words. The Dark Light chant kept running through his head, like an annoying song that once you’ve heard it, you keep on hearing it no matter how hard you try not to.
Hoping the words might pop unexpectedly into his head if he thought about something else, Nightshade turned to Atta, who lay on her side, her eyes closed. He rested his hand on Atta’s chest and felt her heart beating strongly. She lifted her head and rolled over. Her tail thumped the floor. He gave her a hug and then sat back on his heels and looked sorrowfully at Rhys and tried desperately to remember his healing spell.
“Nightshade—” Mina began.
“Shut up!” Nightshade told her, sounding quite savage. “Rhys is hurt really bad and I can’t remember my spell and… and it’s all your fault!”
Mina began to cry. “These bands are pinching me! You have to get them off.”
“Get them off yourself,” Nightshade returned shortly.
“I can’t!” Mina wailed.
Yes you can, you’re a god! Nightshade wanted to shout back at her, but he didn’t because he’d already tried that and it hadn’t worked. But there might be another way…
“Of course you can’t!” Nightshade said disdainfully. “You’re a human, and humans are too fat and too stupid for words. Any kender could do it. I could wriggle out of those bonds like that!” He snapped his fingers. “But since you’re a human and a girl, I guess you’re stuck.”
Mina quit crying. Nightshade had no idea what she was doing, and he didn’t care. He was too worried about Rhys. Then Nightshade thought he heard Krell move or snort, and he cast a fearful glance at him, afraid he was waking up. Krell continued to just lay there like a big bone-covered lump, but it was only a matter of time. He shook his friend on the shoulder and called out his name.
“Rhys,” he said anxiously, “can you hear me? Please, please wake up!”
Rhys moaned. His eyelids fluttered, and Nightshade felt encouraged. Rhys opened his eyes. He winced and gasped in pain, and his eyes rolled back in his head.
“Oh, no!” Nightshade cried, and he grabbed hold of Rhys’ robes. “Don’t go passing out on me again! Stay with me.”
Rhys gave a wan smile and his eyes remained open, though they looked odd; one pupil was bigger than the other. He seemed to have trouble focusing.
“How do you feel?” Nightshade asked.
“Not too well, I’m afraid,” Rhys answered weakly. “Where’s Mina? Is she all right?”
“I’m here, Rhys,” Mina answered in a small voice.
Nightshade jumped at the sound, which had come from over his shoulder. His ploy had worked. The golden bands were still in place, still coiled on the floor, but Mina was no longer inside them.
She stood gazing down sorrowfully at Rhys. Her face was puffy from crying, her cheeks grubby with tears and soot.
“You’re right, Nightshade,” she said. “This is my fault.”
She looked so frightened and unhappy that Nightshade felt lower than a worm’s belly.
“Mina, I didn’t mean to yell at you—” he began.
Mina wasn’t listening. She knelt down and kissed Rhys on his cheek. “You’ll feel better now,” she said softly. “I’m sorry. So sorry. But you won’t have to take care of me anymore.”
And, before Nightshade could do or say anything, she grabbed up the scrip with the blessed artifacts and ran off.
“Mina!” Nightshade cried after her. “Don’t be stupid!”
Mina kept running, and he lost sight of her in the smoke.
“Mina!” Rhys called. “Come back!”
His voice was strong. His eyes were alert and clear, and he was gaining some color back into his face.
“Rhys! You’re better!” Nightshade cried gleefully.
Rhys tried to stand up, but he was still bound by the magical golden bands and he fell back, frustrated.
“Nightshade, you have to go after Mina!”
Nightshade just stood there.
Rhys sighed. “My friend, I know—”
“She’s right, Rhys!” Nightshade stated. “The fire, the fiends from the grave, Krell hurting you—-it’s all her fault. The fighting, the dying—that’s her fault, too! And I’m not leaving you to go after her. Krell will wake up any minute and even though your head’s healed, you’re still stuck in these magical bands. And Krell said he was going to kill you!”
Rhys looked up at him. “You’re the only one I can count on, my friend. The only one I can trust. You must find Mina and bring her back here to the temple. If I’m… not around… the Abbot will know what to do.”
Nightshade’s lower lip started to tremble. “Rhys, don’t make me—”
Rhys smiled. “Nightshade, I’m not making you do anything. I’m asking you—as a friend.”
Nightshade glared at him.
“That’s not fair!” he said crossly. “All right, I’m going.” He shook his finger at Rhys. “But before I go chasing after that brat, I’m going to find someone to help you! Then I’ll look for Mina. Maybe,” he added under his breath.
He cast a quick glance at Krell, who was still unconscious, but probably wouldn’t be for much longer. Once the spell wore off, Krell would feel strong as ever and twice as mad, and three times more determined to kill Rhys.
“Atta, you stay with him,” Nightshade said, petting the dog.
“Atta, go with Nightshade,” Rhys ordered.
The dog sprang to her feet and shook herself all over. Nightshade cast Rhys one last glance, begging him to reconsider.
“Don’t worry about me, my friend,” Rhys said, reassuring. “I am in Majere’s care. Go find Mina.”
Nightshade shook his head and then ran off. He followed the direction Mina had taken, which was, of course, the very worst direction possible. She’d run out the front of the temple, heading right for the street and the battle.