Shadow of the Avatar

Chapter 25 -- Contesting a Foregone Conclusion

My mother is amazing in ways that would take a book to express. Still, despite all of her magic, experience, and natural talent...she can be horribly obtuse at times...

--Everia

Wren felt the back of a hand pressed against her cheek and then her forehead. Her whole body felt as though made of cotton, every sensation dulled. She couldn't sense her own breathing or heartbeat. It was as if she'd become disembodied. After all the pain she'd recently experienced, the lack of body awareness was bliss. Water gurgled steadily nearby, a fountain she guessed. The tinkling of ceramic wind chimes echoed from somewhere far off. She smelled needleleaf and starflower incense.

"She is one tough young lady," she heard a voice say. She recognized the voice, but it took a while to identify Cassandra as the one speaking.

"Yes, tough, and a good thing too!" Replied an angry male voice. This one, she knew immediately was Jharon. "What in Ishtar's name was anyone thinking of letting her go in there knowing she'd face an avatar! Do you hate her for some reason?!"

"I don't hate the girl," Cassandra replied. "Small miscalculation on my part is all."

"Small!" Jharon's voice was joined by another; female--Desiray?

"She came hairs from being dead, and mistress Desiray as well!"

"My guild is a shambles!" Desiray let out. "Oh--" Wren heard a groan. "My head!"

"Lie down." Jharon growled. "Even with these extra herbs in you, you have to minimize the spread of the poison. The venom almost killed you, and it may yet still."

"You know, I thought our agreement was that you'd stay away from Hethanon," Cassandra rumbled.

"I agreed to try and stay away from him. It didn't work out." She groaned. "Still weak. Can't feel my body."

"That's the injunctive I gave you," Jharon said. "As I said, I could not cure the poison. My guess is that it is magical as well as natural."

Magical? She opened her eyes. Torchlight flickered in the wide chamber girded on one side by a large pool of water surrounded by marble columns. Light reflected on a mural glass skylight through which she could see clouds racing across the disk of Pernithius. Hanging gardens filled with many flowers and herb bouquets hung in neat rows overhead.

Cassandra stood, staff in the crook of her arm, partially turned away from Wren looking at a dais next to hers; probably where Desiray lay. Jharon was doing something with some wraps at the foot of that same dais.

"Set's minions can concoct some deadly toxins. Most of which kill slow--sadistic craven." She sighed. "So, am I to take it that Corona did not perform as well as I hoped?"

"It did just fine, Cassandra," Desiray growled.

"Ah, from your tone you're referring as to how well it worked on you."

"What makes you think we fought?"

"Those imprints of Corona's hilt on your head." Wren heard what had to be Corona let out a tinny giggle.

Desiray snorted.

"Must've hurt."

"Damn right."

"Probably deserved it. The scars on her shoulder, leg, back and stomach were put there by someone trying to kill and coming hairs close to it. The magic in those wounds is Corona's. My guess is he healed her around the time she thumped you."