Thirty years? Warna added it up in her head. Thirty years to plan such a thing, and Verice thought nothing of it?
Between the Healing Hall and the next building was a small, heavy wooden door, barred and locked. Verice removed the bar, and began to free the various latches. The dogs milled around their legs, tails wagging.
“This area is more the herbs and medicinal plants,” Verice said as the door swung open. Warna peered inside. There was just enough light to see a path, and a garden stretched out beyond. The breeze touched her face, carrying the sweet scents of flowers and herbs.
“After you,” Verice gestured.
Warna stepped forward, through the door—
And smacked into an invisible barrier.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Verice froze, not understanding for a heartbeat, then understanding all too well. The warding. He had released it temporarily when they’d left for Wolfe’s Tower, but he hadn’t taken it down.
Warna stepped back, frowning, staring at the doorway. Before he could move, she reached out, her fingers stopped by the invisible resistance.
Sand and Gray slipped past her and into the gardens, their nails clicking on the stones. Gray returned, coming back to Warna, whining in his throat as if he sensed something was wrong.
“I,” Verice’s stomach sank. “For your own protection, I—”
“That’s what Kalynn was talking about, wasn’t it?” Warna’s expression was guarded, her eyes shuttered. “When she said ‘caged’?”
“Warna—” Verice wasn’t even sure what he could say, how he could tell her—
“Lord Verice, perhaps we could discuss this later.” Warna took a step back from the door, her gaze cast down, the perfect image of proper deference, but with an edge to her voice. “The day has been a long one, for both of us.”
“Warna.” He couldn’t leave it like this, couldn’t let her go without trying to explain. Yet, what really could he say?
“Good night, m’lord.” Warna turned away.
“I’m sorry,” Verice said.For so much. For leading you on, for the pain I’ve caused you.But he kept those words in his heart.
She paused but didn’t look at him. “I’m sure you acted as you saw fit, m’lord.”
He watched as she walked away, followed by Sand and Gray.
Brindle whined and pushed his head against his leg. Verice reached down to stroke her ears. He whistled the rest of the pack to his side, and then, with an odd sense of relief, regret, and utter defeat, he swung the door shut and dropped the bar into place.
“It’s been dayssince they’ve shared a meal?” Narthing asked.
Those clustered around his bed all nodded glumly.
Narthing sighed.
They’d all gathered in his room at mid-day, supposedly to share a meal and keep Narthing informed as to events.
Honestly, what he wanted to hear was the gossip.
“They’ve not eaten together, they’ve barely spoken,” Ersal said, staring at the chicken leg in his hand. “And when they do speak it’s of laundry supplies and cooking oil.”
“And painful to watch,” Janella added, poking at her own plate. “As if each is afraid of pricking the other if they get too close.”
“What happened?” Narthing asked. The healers still had him on a soft diet, and he eyed Ersal’s chicken leg with longing, then picked up his mug of broth.
“Don’t know,” Ricard sighed. “They went for a walk the night the Chaosreaver appeared.”
Narthing jerked, almost spilling his broth. A jolt of pain went through him at the movement.
