Mistress of the Night - Don Bassingthwaite [17]
Dagnalla arched her son's head. Malia pushed a finger between his lips and forced Roderio's mouth open. Pulling the stopper from one vial with her teeth, she poured a thick, pale blue liquid into his mouth, then pushed his mouth closed. Roderio swallowed convulsively and his body trembled, but some of the redness seemed to fade from his skin.
"Use the other potion," Dagnalla urged under her breath. Her face was pale. "That may be enough until a priest gets here to heal him properly."
Malia nodded and pulled the stopper from the second vial. The door to Roderio's laboratory stood open beyond them. Keph edged around his mother and sister toward it, his eyes fixed on the horrid sight of his brother's burned body.
"Keph!" said his father.
His voice broke the moment of terrible fascination. Keph looked up. Strasus Thingoleir stood in what was left of the laboratory. One gnarled hand held his staff in much the same way Keph would have held Quick in the face of possible danger. His other was spread wide in warning. His eyes were hard and stern. Keph swallowed.
"Father-"
"Just stay at the door. There's acid and broken glass everywhere." Keph blinked and Strasus pointed a finger at Keph's bare feet.
"Oh," mumbled Keph in surprise. "Right."
He surveyed the ruins of the laboratory from where he stood. Afternoon sunlight streamed through a window, lending an almost unnatural sharpness and clarity to the scene. The yellow-green liquid that had saturated Roderio's robes seemed to have splashed everywhere. Droplets smoked and steamed on the floor, on the walls, on workbenches-Roderio's lizard familiar crouched in its case, hissing violently at the acid that streaked the outside of the glass. A smear of the stuff marked where Roderio had been dragged across the floor and out of the room. The workbench that had been set up by the rack of jars and pots was flooded with it, the books of Elvish script so completely soaked that they were already shriveling and turning black.
Among the devastation on the bench lay the remains. of not one of the jars Keph had treated with the magesbane, but four. Of the two vessels he had treated, there was no sign. He could only guess that they had given birth to the shards of glass that littered the laboratory floor and pierced his brother's flesh.
Beshaba's ivory arms, he cursed silently, what have you gotten me into, Jarull?
Strasus was turning around in the midst of the chaos, examining everything but especially the ruined workbench. Keph's mouth was dry. He scarcely dared to breathe. His father was sure to find something; nothing escaped his sharp-eyed gaze. And if he detected the magesbane-
But Strasus only grunted and stood up straight, stroking his gray beard as he turned away from the workbench. Keph's stomach twisted. He licked his lips, forcing moisture into his mouth again.
"What happened?" he asked, cautious.
The old wizard grimaced. "An accident," he said. "Roderio must have made some kind of mistake in his brewing."
He held out his staff and murmured a spell. With a sound like the edges of a hundred knives drawn across slate, the broken glass and crockery that had been scattered across the laboratory scraped itself together into neat piles. He wiped his free hand through the air and the smoking puddles and droplets of acid hissed and vanished. Strasus lowered his staff slowly to the ground and paced out of the room with a sigh.
Keph only barely managed to hold in a sigh of his own as his father stepped past him. An accident?
Out in the hall, Strasus knelt beside Roderio. "How is he?" he asked.
"Unconscious," said Dagnalla, "but I don't think he's getting any worse. A priest should arrive soon. We'll know better then."
Her voice was thick with tension. Strasus reached out and patted her on the shoulder, then helped her to her feet.
"It would be better if he were in his bed rather than lying on the