Chapter Twenty-Eight
Whatever Possessed Her
As soon as Maerillus’s home came into view, Niam and Davin sped up until they were in front of the old servant that had led them to Kreeth’s meeting place. Niam walked close behind him much of the way. Ever since they had chanced across Mayor Braun, Niam had wanted to see if he was able to sense whether or not Kreeth’s sorcery remained on his victims. If Braun had been telling the truth and had indeed stopped using the dark art, Niam had still sensed it surrounding the man like a faintly unpleasant odor.
“Stop him,” he told Davin quietly. “I don’t think it will waken him if you are gentle, and I need him standing still for a few moments so I can test an idea.” Davin placed his hands lightly on each of the man’s shoulders. “There,” he said once the man was still. Niam stepped in close to the man.
Nothing.
Well . . . maybe something.
No. It was just gas.
“Something crawled up in you and died, did it?” Davin complained beside him, and then asked, “What are you trying to do?”
“I thought if I got close enough maybe I could sense the sorcery used on him,” Niam told him as the servant shuffled forward again.
“Are you trying to use your abilities?”
Niam looked at Davin as if he had just asked him if water were wet. “I was standing close to him, wasn’t I?”
“I mean use your abilities,” Davin said, explaining, “We all have abilities that just come to us and stay. Like Maerillus. He’s got to think about being seen to allow someone to see him from a distance. He’s got to think about making one of us hard to see when we’re near him.”
Niam felt his eyes widen, and he hit his forehead with the palm of his hand. “I never thought to try it out. I just assumed it was different with me.”
Niam felt like an idiot. The obvious had been there right in front of him all of this time and he hadn’t connected the fact that his friends had been developing some control over their abilities to his own situation.
Niam knew he had to try out his idea, so he caught up with the servant and had Davin stop the poor fellow again. Standing on the lawn by the servants’ wing of the Sartor manor, Niam raised his hands and slowly moved them around the man. All he felt was the crisp bite of the early morning air. He dropped his hands and looked at them like a blacksmith looked at a broken tool. Proximity wasn’t going to work. Nor was trying to check by using his hands and focusing on using his sense of touch. Maybe there was a reason he couldn’t sense the sorcery he had seen with his own eyes worked on this man.
“Maybe I can only tell if someone has used it,” Niam said to himself, but then shook his head. “No, because I can feel it after someone has used it and the person isn’t around anymore.”
“That means you ought to be able to sense it on him,” Davin said.
Niam just stood there letting thoughts run though his mind, then rejecting each one as it came. Davin shifted his stance, and the noise he made drew Niam out of his inner ramblings. “I just don’t think it’s going to work,” Niam said at last. He was about to tell Davin that he would try later when his stomach began to rumble, and then the answer occurred to him.
“I think I’ve figured it out,” he told Davin.
Niam realized that he ought to stick to past experiences as his guide. Sorcery made him feel ill. When he had known that Kreeth was ahead of them as they followed Sartor’s servant, the feeling had been like a stomachache that had moved outside of his body. No sooner did the thought occur to Niam than he slowly became aware of an aching sense of wrongness in front of him. He felt a smile slowly spread across his face. If he shifted his senses outside of his body, maybe he might be able to feel what the sorcerer had done. Niam looked over at Davin. With the smile still on his lips, he said, “I figured it out.”
Davin sat there for one long moment, then he gave Niam an impatient prompt, “AND?”
Niam looked up. “Oh, yeah. He, um, has it. There’s an imprint of Kreeth’s sorcery on him. It’s very faint, but I can feel it. I almost have to imagine I’m in two places at once—or at least, the part of me that gets sick around sorcery is. That’s how I feel it. Or a part of me that’s there and not there at the same time feels it.”
Davin just made a face. “Way too complicated for me.”
Niam raised his hands and shrugged his shoulders. “Welcome to my world. Now I need to do this,” he said, and reached up to grab the old man’s shoulder. He shook him gently, and loudly said, “Hey! You sleepwalking or something? Hey! Wake up!”
The man they had followed looked around, dazed, as consciousness returned to his eyes. “I—I must have just . . .” he began to stutter, then looked around realizing he had no idea what was happening or why he was standing outside.
“It’s okay, sir,” Niam said jovially. “My uncle used to sleepwalk sometimes, too.”
As the old servant attempted to gather his wits, he mumbled, “Um, yes. Well then. I haven’t—” but had to stop as he began swaying on his feet.
“Oh my,” Niam cried in alarm. “Davin!” Niam moved in to steady the man by grabbing an arm.
Davin got ahold of him by the other side. “You must have really been sleeping hard,” he said, playing along.
“Good thing we came by,” Niam said, helping keep the man upright. “We’re running an errand for Lord Joachim’s butler.”
“Falion? I know Falion,” the gentleman grumbled, becoming more alert as they talked. With a shake of his head he looked around, awake for the first time. “What’s going on here? What’s this about Falion?”
“I’d rather not say.” Niam dropped his voice and told the man, “It’s rather embarrassing. A visitor at Lord Joachim’s residence lost his wife’s Sapphire necklace in a bit of a bet. He overheard his wife telling Betsy at the trade conference where she had purchased it, and wants to know if Betsy remembers so he can buy a replacement.”
“Yes,” Davin jumped in. “We were wondering how we were going to find Betsy when we came across you. Good thing, too.”
Niam said, “That’s right. Falion told us this only because there’s a man’s newlywed happiness on the line, if you know what I mean.”
“Utmost discretion,” Davin told him soberly.
“Absolute secrecy,” Niam echoed.
“I’m sure you’ll understand, sir,” Davin said, confidingly.
“When we saw you, I told my friend, ‘this fellow’s the man to help us.’”
“Right,” Davin said.
“You will help us, won’t you?” Niam asked. “A man should never suffer upset in the household because of a gentleman’s wager.”
By now, they were almost at the Sartor manor, and the servant muttered in a sleepy voice, “I suppose not.”
“Good!” Niam said. “Then you’ll just point the way, and we’ll let you get back to bed, sir!”