the tubes into Egil's arm — the priest did not stir — and collected the blood in the mortar. Rakon then kneeled beside the Vwynn and jabbed the bleeder tube through its scales and into its arm. The Vwynn squealed and squirmed while Rakon collected its black blood.
Rakon moved closer to the fire. Other than Baras and Jyme, who assisted Nix with the Vwynn, the other guards backed off. Nix understood. No man who made his way with sharpened steel felt comfortable around those who made their way with spells.
'How long will this take?' Jyme asked over his shoulder, still holding the Vwynn's legs.
Rakon did not answer. He placed the mortar in the edge of the embers to warm it, kneeled beside the fire, and stirred the mix of blood with a hollow glass rod.
'My bag,' he called over his shoulder.
After a pause, one of the guards brought the black bag to him and withdrew.
Rakon removed tubes of powder and small bottles of liquid from the bag, adding a pinch of this, a dash of that.
The mixture in the mortar crackled. Rakon stirred it anew with the rod, intoning a chant under his breath. Soon the mixture emitted a puff of smoke. Rakon nodded, picked up the mortar, and stood.
The Vwynn's eyes fixed on the sorcerer; its chest rose and fell rapidly. A forked tongue licked the ridges of its lips nervously. Small clicking noises sounded from somewhere deep in its throat. Perhaps it had a sense of what was transpiring.
Rakon moved to Egil's side and dipped his fingers into the mortar. They came away covered in a glob of a thick, clear substance.
He rolled it between his palms like clay, thinning it more and more, letting the thin line his movement created spool to the ground at his feet.
'What's he doing?' Jyme asked.
'Hsst,' Nix said.
Rakon incanted as he spun and the thin line glistened, twitched. When he'd spun a length of it out, he took the spun end, held it to Egil's nostril, and whispered words of power. The line snaked into Egil's nose and kept going, more and more of it disappearing into the priest's body. Rakon held the other end, still incanting.
The priest's body arched and thin lines appeared on his flesh, like veins but not veins, welts caused by the intrusion of the magical line as it wormed through his body. The process went on for a long thirty-count, and during that time the exposed line that Rakon still held changed from clear to yellow, then from yellow to the deep blue- black of a bruise.
'Is it drawing out the poison?' Jyme whispered.
'I think so,' Nix said.
Still incanting softly, Rakon turned from Egil and toward the Vwynn. He continued to work the blob of magical material in his hands until he'd spun it all out, and held the opposite side of the discolored line in his hand.
The creature struggled anew, the blade at its throat no deterrent. Nix grunted with the effort of holding it flat, and Jyme laid his weight on the creature's legs to maintain his hold. Baras moved his blade aside and put a hand on the frantic creature's chest. The Vwynn whined, the sound high-pitched and frighteningly human. Rakon turned to the creature, holding the other end of the line between forefinger and thumb. He kneeled.
'Wait,' Nix said.
Rakon halted but did not stop his incantation. He loomed over the Vwynn, an executioner with axe held high.
'Wait?' Jyme said. 'Wait what? Do it, man.' Then to Rakon, 'Do it, my lord.'
'No, wait,' Nix said. 'Wait, godsdammit.'
'It's just an animal,' Jyme said. 'Look at it. It'd kill us if it could.'
Nix knew it wasn't just an animal. The transference wouldn't work on an animal. The Vwynn was bestial, savage, but it was a thinking, feeling creature akin to a man. He was murdering it to save Egil.
Nix had killed a helpless creature only once before. Then, he'd been a boy fighting for bread, and had stabbed the granther in the kidney when the old man had been too exhausted to fight back. He regretted it still, and he always would.
And when he helped kill the Vwynn, he'd regret that, too. But he'd do it anyway. For Egil. He stared down at his friend's wan countenance and spoke loud enough for everyone to hear.
'No one ever speaks of this to Egil or I cut out your fakking throat. Rakon's sorcery healed him and that's the whole of the story. You don't know how it worked. It just did. Understood?'
'The priest isn't gonna care about this animal,' Jyme said.
'You don't know him,' Nix said. 'And this is not an animal.'
'What?' Jyme asked. 'It's not?'
Nix ignored Jyme. 'Baras, pry open its mouth with a blade.'
Baras stuck his dagger in the creature's mouth, forcing it open, and Nix was uncomfortably reminded of Baras putting his blade against Nix's face to force him to accept the spellworm. The Vwynn flailed but it was too exhausted to resist much.
'Do it,' Nix said to Rakon.
The Vwynn made a hopeless, desperate sound as Rakon fed the magical filament into its mouth and the line snaked down its throat. Almost immediately the Vwynn's body arched and it bared its teeth in pain.
The line pulsed, bulbs of black moving along its length, man and Vwynn connected by a cord of magic. Whatever the spell had taken out of Egil was now being pushed into the Vwynn. Rakon stood, holding the filament that bound man and Vwynn. He waited, waited, and then gave the line a hard jerk. It came free of both bodies in a spray of mucus, squirmed for a moment, then dissipated into nothingness.
The Vwynn seized, arched, exhaled loudly, and went limp.
Egil groaned, rolled over to face the fire, and started to snore.
Baras, Jyme, and Nix let go of the Vwynn's cooling body.
'How could its own poison kill it?' Jyme asked.
'It's not the poison that was transferred,' Rakon said, gathering his things. 'The poison had already done its work. The spell transferred death's grip on the spirit.'
'Gods,' Jyme said, standing and backing away from the Vwynn.
Baras cleared his throat, nodded at the Vwynn's body. 'Let's get that carcass out of here.'
'I'll do it,' Nix said, looking at Egil, at the Vwynn. 'It's mine to do.'
Nix carried the Vwynn's body away from the camp and laid it gently, respectfully among the rocks. He covered it with a few stones, but didn't have the energy to do much more. He walked away without looking back.
Once he returned to the camp, he planted himself around the fire, keeping watch over Egil. Baras and Jyme joined him. None of them spoke. They simply sat, content with the silent presence of the others. Nix feared nightmares should he slumber — perhaps of the sisters' making, or perhaps born of his own deeds — but the trials of the day soon overwhelmed him. He lost the fight and fell into slumber.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Nix awoke late, well after dawn. Everyone else remained asleep. He coughed, spit, and heated the kettle of coffee in the fire's embers.
He spotted Rakon near the edge of the sea of glass. The sorcerer had somehow removed a few shards of glass from the edge of the sea and they lay stacked on the ground beside him. Nix walked over and nodded at the shards.
'How'd you manage that?'
Rakon only grunted for answer.
'What were you looking for out on the glass last night?'
Rakon looked at him over his shoulder. 'Why do you think I was looking for something?'
Now it was Nix's turn to grunt.
