Caitlyn nodded.
He gave a cursory glance to the papers on the table next to the tome. Half-completed translations and direct copies for the most part. One caught his eye. He picked it up, trying to identify the object inked on its surface.
It appeared to be a vaguely egg-shaped maze of some kind, with no discernible opening or end. That the page was here suggested it had to do with the body, but he’d never seen anything like this during his healing tuition. Turning the page around did nothing to help make sense of the image. “What is this meant to be?” He handed the page over, affecting his usual nonchalant expression. Maybe the woman would mistake it for being tested.
“That’s a brain.”
As soon as the word left her mouth, Darshan saw it. They had touched briefly on the subject back in his tutored years, but no healer worth his coin would dare to apply more than the weakest probing. Delicate organs were often left to themselves. He’d never seen an image of a brain that wasn’t stylised. Or symmetrical, as the current theory was on what the perfect specimen should resemble. “It seems rather…” He tapped his upper teeth with the tip his tongue, hunting for the right word. “…lifelike.”
“It’s probably from one of the specimens they jarred. The majority of the Domian studies done here were on the diseases plaguing complex organs. We’ve still got the jars. They’re kept in the secondary basement.”
“How gruesome,” he murmured, his thoughts elsewhere. Studies on brain disease. Never mind the ancient elven skeleton, he knew of several healers who’d give their right arm for a chance to peruse any studies involving the brain.
He would need to find out who was in charge and discuss the herbal remedies he had been given leave to use in the trade agreements. Although, if their texts were this detailed, then maybe…
Darshan shook himself and smiled at Caitlyn. “Can I see them?”
Shrugging, she beckoned him to follow as she vacated the room.
Their downward passage required retracing their steps through the same winding route, the stairs seemingly narrower and the corridors that little bit emptier. The time of day likely had a hand in the latter. His stomach certainly seemed to be of the opinion that a midday meal should be forthcoming.
They strode by the study where he had met Caitlyn. He peeked into the area, idly wondering if the woman’s two brothers lingered there. Alas, no.
Probably enjoying a nice lunch. He briefly considered suggesting to Caitlyn that they follow suit before dismissing the idea with barely a creak. Eyeballing antique organs on a full stomach likely wasn’t the best plan.
Caitlyn led the way out the cloister’s main entrance. He trotted down the stairs leading to the courtyard at her heel, casting an eye around the space in an effort to spot just where they would place something so fragile. But he caught no hint of anything he would class as a basement.
In contrast to the emptiness within the cloister, the courtyard practically bustled. Especially around the pulley. A good dozen men worked around the massive seven-levered capstan, their faces pulled tight with effort as they hoisted whatever goods the people below had loaded. The wooden beams groaned along with them.
Caitlyn slowed, her head tilted towards the mechanism. A distant look took her eye. She halted with a gasp, then raced towards the men. “Reverse the wheel! Lower the platform!”
The men hesitated only as long as it took to see who issued such an order. They hastened to follow her demands, shuffling around to unwind the capstan. More men rushed to the edge and yelled for those below to get clear before likewise fleeing the immediate area.
Darshan eyed the pulley, searching for whatever had spooked Caitlyn. The beams continued to groan and bend, but they didn’t show any sign of breaking anytime soon.
Through it all, Caitlyn hopped from one foot to the other. “Please,” she whispered. “Goddess, please let it hold out just a little long—”
Slowly, like the unfurling of a rose, the rope snapped.
Unthinking, Darshan lashed his magic towards the frayed end. His grasp held for but a moment before the rope slithered free, vanishing over the edge in a second that took an eternity.
A heart-stopping scream punctuated the crash of wood.
People rushed to the cliff edge, yelling down at those working there, struggling to get a cohesive answer. Above them, the beam continued to shudder, the vibration running the length of the pulley’s framework. But it seemed to be holding together.
Rather than attempt to forge a path through the press of bodies around the cliff edge, Darshan followed Caitlyn to the capstan. A handful of men sat nearby, clutching their chests. They smiled sheepishly up at Caitlyn, grimacing only slightly as she healed each one in turn.
“You have the gift of premonition?” Darshan enquired. There was no mistaking she’d been aware the rope would fray. If only it had come sooner. He pressed his lips together lest the wrong words escaped. Hopefully, her actions had reduced the fatality of any injuries. “It is a rare skill, even in Udynea.” There were plenty of old elven stories of how they had fled their homeland at the behest of their Oracles. Quite a few scholars insisted those Oracles must’ve had the same power, but no one had ever seen it manifest in any elf.
Caitlyn shrugged and moved on to the final injured man. “It’s nae like I see things all the time. I just ken certain dangerous things are going to happen. That’s how I sensed Hamish and me were in trouble all those years back.”
Trouble? Hamish had never mentioned having a spellster sibling, let alone getting into some sort of trouble with one.
“Rouse the spellsters!” a woman screamed
