Thread of Gold

Ch. 5: until it bleeds

"Who the hell are you?" he demanded.

***

The stone chamber smelled of blood and vomit.

Brigid stared at the young guard strapped to the table, his body writhing with pain. Hunter, one of the other guards had told her. His dark skin was slick with sweat, and there was a gag in his mouth to muffle the screaming. Vomit on his shirt. He was young — younger than she had expected, anyway. Hardly older than her son.

"What happened?" Brigid asked.

She made her voice calm. A queen's voice. A tall guard cleared his throat. "He attacked us, Your Majesty. But Hunter didn't know what he was doing. One minute, he was laughing about some card game, and the next..." He gestured at the table. "Well, you can see what happened."

She could indeed.

"The change was abrupt?" Brigid asked.

"Very."

She clasped her hands. "And nobody was within a few feet of him? You're sure?"

"I'm positive, Your Majesty. Nobody was standing near him."

She frowned. Well, if nobody was close enough to throw a web over the injured guard — if this man was telling the truth — then that left one possibility.

He'd drunk the somnium. Either he'd done it on purpose, or someone had poisoned him.

But why?

Brigid moved aside as a pregnant healer bustled through, crushing something with a pestle. Not for the first time, Brigid wished they had magical healers from Zarob at court. A Zarobian healer could have cured the guard — Hunter — within a few hours. Maybe minutes. But the kingdom to the south refused to have anything to do with the Delafort family after the War of Nightmares, when they executed the Cidarius family. There were no healers in Wynterlynn.

So they would have to rely on this.

Plants and science.

"Keep this to yourselves," Brigid ordered. "If this gets out, it will cause alarm. There's no use in panicking people until we know more. You may inform his family, of course, but please tell them to remain silent for now."

She would write to his family, too. Thank them for their son's bravery and make up some story about Hunter dying while squashing a Nightweaver uprising.

"Yes, Your Majesty," said the tall guard.

She touched Hunter's forehead lightly. "Poor boy."

Hunter thrashed at her touch, letting out a low, keening sound. His eyes rolled back. The healer rushed forward with her concoction, and Brigid could smell eucalyptus, lavender and something sharp and fresh.

Not a cure.

Just a treatment to soothe. To numb the pain, just long enough for Hunter to die peacefully. She wondered if the other anxious guards knew it.

But there was nothing to be done, Brigid thought, slipping from the chamber. Nothing to be done to save a man from nightmare magic. It was the deadliest force to have ever existed; it was why it needed to be eradicated.

She would never stop hunting them. She would never let up.

Not until all Nightweavers were dead.

Not until they all bled.

***

Anna froze.

Ryne leaned against the door, watching her with wary green eyes. His brown hair was mussed, and two red spots burned in his cheeks. His breath rattled in his chest. Fear? At finding her in his bedroom? But there were guards just outside the room, Anna realized. Of course Ryne wasn't afraid — he could shout for help and she would be dead within seconds.