Not bothering to hug the wall, Jocasta followed him. Finally, he stopped and she saw him pull what seemed from a distance to be a large key from his robe. He moved to the wall, there was a creaking noise and Jamshir disappeared.
Jocasta blinked. Did he really vanish, or…no, he had simply stepped into a doorway. The dim light of the tunnel was playing tricks on her eyes.
She hurried forward, finding the entrance that Jamshir had gone through. The door itself was heavy wood, strapped with black iron. Beyond it, there was a sickly glow of yellow and green light.
The headache returned with a vengeance. She hissed and pressed her palms against her eyes, making bright spots appear in her vision.
And her stomach rebelled. She felt like she was going to vomit up every meal she’d ever eaten. It was like Jamshir’s touch again, only a thousand times worse.
But she deserved that. All the vile, horrible things he wanted to do to her, she earned. As a matter of fact, she should find him, bare herself to him and give herself over. She was worth nothing more. The things she had done. Crew members she’d beaten. Childress and the poison. She wasn’t worth anything more.
“The hell I’m not,” she growled.
Jocasta had never lacked confidence, not even when she was a small child. She’d made mistakes, yes, and had regrets. Childress chief among them. But who didn’t? She did what she did for her House, for the good of the Greenweald in the long run.
Jamshir? He wasn’t worth the time it took to remember his face, let alone his touch.
Squaring her shoulders, she pushed inside the room.
There were no glowing stones here, and there didn’t need to be.
Around the walls of the room were stone arches, set into the dirt wall. She quickly counted six of them. Two were blank, showing only the brown walls of the chamber behind them. The others held eddying mixtures of various glowing colors.
The largest one was flaring brightly, the light changing from green to yellow, like the color of old bruises. It was from there that the feelings beating against her were coming.
Of the other arches, one was a steady swirl of black and dark gray. Jamshir stood before that one, whispering to himself.
“Jamshir!” she yelled. He paid her no attention and never so much as glanced back as he stepped forward into the swirling lights. His body seemed to flatten out, and then he was gone.
Jocasta was considering following him when a tendril of sick green light wormed out from the large gate and worked its way to one of the others, passing within. The gate it entered flared for a moment. Then the tendril disconnected from the main gate and disappeared into the new one. A moment later and the smaller gate was a swirling mess of muddy brown again.
The colors in the remaining one seemed familiar. Grays, in different tones, all mixing together. The glow from this one was subtle, much dimmer than the others.
“What the hell is this?” she whispered.
As if in answer, the large gate flared, and a spike of pain shot through her head. She dropped to her knees and vomited onto the floor.
With tears streaming from her eyes, she managed to work her way back to the doorway and then into the tunnel. The pain lessened and she staggered to her feet. Holding on to the wall for support, she ran back down the passage.
She needed to leave this place, get back to Whispering Pines. Maybe even back to the Southern Seas and leave all of this behind her. Let the Greenweald deal with its own problems.
Chapter 64
“Thaddeus.” Willow’s voice was like ice.
It was strange, seeing the healer. The last time, he held her in front of him as a hostage against Solomon, threatening to kill her. And he would have if he were forced into it. Now, here she was, and he didn’t know what to say to her.
It was ironic, really. They were searching for a healer when the best one in all the Greenweald appeared. And she just happened to be the one healer in the place that he couldn’t ask for help either.
But he wasn’t the only one who needed healing, or even the one who needed it the most.
“Look,” he began, “I know you don’t have any reason to—"
“Don’t bother,” Willow interrupted, “I have nothing to say to you.”
“Yes, but—”
To his surprise, Willow stepped toward him. He flinched and then forced himself to stay still, not raising his hands or trying to summon any magic. If she wanted to hurt him, he’d let her.
But she didn’t. Instead, her gaze travelled over him, head to toe.
“The same magic did this, didn’t it?” She wasn’t talking to him. Instead, she had turned her head back to Darius.
“Yes,” the other man replied. “And I’m ashamed to say that I had something to do with it.”
“We can discuss that later.” Willow turned her attention back to Thaddeus. “I should let you suffer with your wounds.”
Thaddeus was about to reply when Willow’s gaze slid past him. Her eyes opened wide and her mouth shaped itself into an “oh”. She stepped past him and took Melanie’s hand.
“You are hurt badly. Deeper and more grievously than what it appears.”
Melanie’s eyes filled with tears. She nodded and let Willow fold her into her arms.
“Come with me,” Willow said. “We will do what we are able.”
She slowly led Melanie away without another glance at either Thaddeus or Darius.
“She’ll be all right,” Darius said from behind him.
Thaddeus whirled on him. “No thanks
