Chapter 511: A Healthy Suggestion
A Healthy Suggestion
Martel stared down upon the maleficar's body. He had expected to feel some kind of vindication, but in truth, he just felt tired. Maybe because the woman on the ground looked nothing like Julia; in terms of appearance, she was a stranger. Furthermore, her body was rapidly decaying; years of rot took place before his very eyes.
"Three centuries are catching up," Atreus remarked. He knelt down next to her. "When my time comes, I suppose I shall look the same."
"How did you do this?" Martel asked.
"Leechcraft is a bridge between mage and victim, transferring power. But all bridges can be travelled in both directions." For a moment, Atreus' countenance turned harsh as he looked at the dead maleficar, her body falling apart.
Different amulets became apparent, resting on what had been Elena's chest; Martel felt their magical power clearly, and he knelt down as well to take a closer look.
"Best not to touch," the spellbreaker warned him. Using her knife, he cut a large piece of fabric from her dress and used it to pick up the artefacts without touching them, turning it into a small bundle. "I'll dispose of them if I can and hide them away if I can't."
Remembering his friends, Martel got up and turned around. Already, the mageknights approached them, Maximilian once more pressing a hand to his wounded neck. "That turned unpleasant, like a dream you could not wake from. I need a strong ale."
Wounded, but well enough otherwise, Martel surmised; he looked at Eleanor. "Are you hurt?"
"Nothing of consequence. Is it over?"
Martel looked down at the rotting corpse. "Pretty sure it is."
Meanwhile, Atreus had picked up the bronze mace, and he returned it to the sarcophagus.
"I would argue those spoils belong to me," Maximilian protested. In his hands, he held the golden coins he had once glued to his weapon.
"We have done enough to disturb the dead," the spellbreaker told them. "Let us return the bones to their resting place as best we can. Return them to the dignity that she would deny to them."
***
It took a while to restore their hall to the best of their ability; the stone lid of the sarcophagus remained cracked, but they hoisted it back into place, once the skeleton king or rather, his different parts rested inside again. They did their best for the remaining bones scattered around the hall, returning them to the alcoves, and finally left. The maleficar's body was allowed to stay where she fell; a warning to other intruders violating the peace of the dead.
They walked with quiet steps through the catacombs; even Maximilian avoided unnecessary noise or conversation. None of them felt up for another brawl, should they attract the attention of the restless inhabitants of the tunnels. But whether through luck or some reward for the respect shown in the burial chamber, they made it through the tombs without further incident, reaching the sewers. Martel never imagined he would be so happy for the stench of those waters to fill his nose.
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Out of the catacombs, they finally allowed themselves to relax. "I should be cross with you, Nordmark," Maximilian declared, the first to speak. "Many times you told me to join you on your hunt for the maleficar, claiming it would bring us glory to eradicate her evil. Finally, we actually track her down and put an end to her, but who will believe us? Other than the inquisitors, who will no doubt consider us all tainted by association with the witch. You especially, given your friendship with her."
"Alright, no need to bring that up," Martel replied with annoyance.
"We will know what we did," Eleanor chimed in. "That will have to suffice. We saved many who would otherwise become her victims."
"One question that still bothers me," Maximilian admitted.
"Just one?" Martel glanced over his shoulder at the mageknight.
"Begone with your cheek. As I said, one question. This witch went after easy victims, such as children in the copper lanes. But she also used her wicked magic on students of the Lyceum, which seems highly dangerous. Why take such a risk?"
All the young mages fell quiet, waiting for Atreus to answer. "I can't rightly say," he admitted. "Maybe she thought that by stealing their power, she could regain her magic or break the curse by fuelling her own powers."
They walked past the row of pipes leading water from the Lyceum into the sewers, where Martel had first seen Julia. He wondered if she had intended the same fate for him, or why she had never done so had it simply been a question of circumstances, or had she found him more useful supplying her with materials and potions?
"Some of her victims are still alive, though only barely," Eleanor suddenly spoke up. "Master Atreus, do you have knowledge of healing?"
"That depends. I cannot do much against physical ills, but some maladies I might be able to alleviate."
"We should take you to Gerard," Maximilian suggested. "One of her victims. He is in the infirmary."
Martel had all but forgotten about him. While he did not particularly care about his fate, the idea of watching Atreus heal him was exciting.
"I don't have it in me to carry out any magic until I rest, but I can certainly take a look at the boy once we're back at the Lyceum. A quick examination will let me determine if I have any powers to help him."
They continued onwards; ahead, the grate door awaited their return.
***
First bell rang as they appeared in the Lyceum; they had been gone the entire night. Swiftly, they traversed the school to reach the infirmary before the general inhabitants of the castle woke up.
"What is this? What are you doing here so early, and who is this?" The nurse on duty glared at them.
"Good sister, we only wish to visit our friend briefly before we should be on our way. Will you let us have a few moments?" As Atreus spoke, Martel felt a tinge of magic, though he could not identify it as such.
Looking confused briefly, the sister's expression softened. "Very well. Be quick about it. And take a bath afterwards. You smell like you've been rolling around in refuse."
The spellbreaker bowed his head in acknowledgement and looked at the others. "Where is he?"
They led him to the patient, still lying without response on a cot. Martel recalled when they had tried to revive him using the potion discovered by Eleanor, and how only Master Kelsos' intervention had saved the boy's life.
Atreus placed his hand on Gerard's forehead, closing his eyes. Moments passed where none dared to speak; Martel watched for any sign of magic. Finally, the spellbreaker removed his hand and stepped away. "Alas, the injury is in his very soul. It is beyond me to heal."
"Would you be willing to examine another patient? Her wound is different from his, but likewise beyond Asterian skill to heal." Eleanor stared at Atreus even as the others stared at her.
"Given all the aid you have rendered me, I won't refuse such a request. Where is she?"
"At my home. About an hour's walk from here," Eleanor explained.
"In that case, I suggest we separate and recover ourselves. First bell has rung let us meet at fifth bell." Atreus looked at the door in the infirmary that led outside. "I should make myself scarce from the castle, but I will meet you on the street at the agreed hour. You can bring me to your home."
"That will be without me," Maximilian growled. "My family expects me this afternoon."
"The rest of us will be there," Martel declared. Eleanor gave him a grateful smile.
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