Chapter 27

Chapter Twenty-Seven

I clapped a hand over my mouth to stifle my scream but Vargas didn’t even bother doing that. Ugly black boils popped up all over his flesh and the air filled with the stench of rot. Dark blood flowed from the open wounds and soaked his clothes, forcing them to cling to his quivering body. Will dropped him and the man landed on his unsteady feet. He clutched his boil-covered hands around his neck and a horrible gargling noise emanated from his throat.

Everyone leaped back as Wrecan stumbled forward, his hands outstretched and flailing around searching for anything to grab. He tripped over the ground and fell face-first onto the grass. His blood poured over the lawn and killed every blade of grass it touched, scorching it like black fire.

The man twitched a moment before he lay still. A dead silence fell over us.

I inched over to Will and grasped his arm. He fumbled around until one of his hands found mine and squeezed it. His eyes remained on the fallen human, or what remained of him.

Ware’s hushed voice broke the silence. “What in all the realms was that?”

Will pursed his lips as he turned his face toward me. “The blight?”

I nodded. “That’s what it looked like.”

“What disease could have changed this man?” Allard spoke up.

“It isn’t a disease but a curse, the same one that no doubt animates the black worms,” Will told them as he released me and inched closer to the remains of the man.

Wrecan’s hand shot out and wrapped around Will’s leg. Vargas screamed as the man lifted his head and revealed his half-rotten face. His soulless black eyes stared with fury at both Will and me. He tried to pull himself up using Will’s leg to steady himself. Will stumbled back and threw a fireball into the man’s face. The heat forced the man back and he lost his grip, allowing Will to yank himself out of the man’s hold.

I rushed to Will’s side just as the monster that Wrecan had become lunged at us. “Will!” I shouted as I swung my back to the thing and covered Will’s front with my body.

A beautiful brilliant light shot out of me and enveloped all of us. It struck the mutated man and flung him onto his back upon the grass. He stared up at the sky with shock written all over his face.

His clear, normal face.

Wrecan blinked up at the bright sun above us as everyone gaped at the man. I turned around and joined in the surprise. He lifted his hands up to his face and turned them this way and that.

“W-what. . .what happened?” came his hoarse question.

Will’s focus lay solely on me. “How could you cure him?”

I shook my head. “I-I don’t know. I couldn’t do that with the others.”

Allard carefully knelt beside the confused Wrecan and took the man’s hand. The doctor turned the limb over in his palms and furrowed his brow. “There doesn’t appear to be any signs of the illness.” He lay the man’s hand down and met the confused Wrecan’s eyes. “Can you tell us why you changed?”

Wrecan stared dumbly at him. “Who. . .who are you?” He looked about our faces without recognition. “Who are any of you? Where am I?”

Vargas frowned. “Do you know who you are?”

Wrecan furrowed his brow. “I. . .my name is Donald Wrecan. I’m. . .I’m a tailor in Mirum.” He blinked up at us. “But this isn’t Mirum. How did I get here?”

“What is the last thing you remember?” Allard questioned him.

The man’s eyes took on a faraway and frustrated expression. “I. . .I remember closing shop for the night and I heard something behind me. Then I-” He reached behind himself and touched his shoulder before he winced. “Something cold touched me. That’s the last thing I remember.”

Allard lifted his gaze to us. “Is this what happened to the others?”

I pursed my lips before I looked up at Will. “They didn’t remember being cursed.”

“Then you know what caused this man’s change?” Vargas questioned us. Her face was slightly ashen and her hands fidgeted together in front of her.

“I do,” Will spoke up as his worried eyes met mine. “The god-like creature.”

I nodded. “Yeah. It’s the same rotting flesh and those eyes-” I paused and shuddered.

Ware scowled at us. “You told us you had rid the world of that foul fiend and yet now we find someone afflicted by its disease!”

Will looked over his shoulder and frowned up at our guest. “There was no reason to believe we had not. Those infected by its curse were cured.”

Ware waved a hand at the pewter pitcher. “So how did this thing get it?”

“If we had the answer to that question then we would probably have the solution to our problem,” Will countered.

“I-I should really like to get home,” Wrecan pleaded as he sat up with Allard’s help. “I have some dresses due next week and a ball in a few months-” He paused and looked about us. “How have the leaves come out? Is it not spring still?”

Allard shook his head. “It is summer now.”

Wrecan’s mouth fell open. “Surely. . .surely you jest. This is some twisted joke, isn’t it?”

“You have been sick for quite some time,” Allard told him as he nodded at our group. “We only just now were able to clear your mind of the disease.”

The man stared dumbly at him before he swallowed the lump in his throat. “I. . .then how long have I been sick?”

“A few months,” Allard informed the man.

“A few months. . .” Wrecan repeated as he ran a hand through his hair and stared at the ground in front of him. “My God, what happened to me?”

“Nothing a little rest will not fix,” Allard assured him as he helped him to his feet. “I will see you to your room and then we have a carriage take you home.”

“S-sure. . .” Wrecan mumbled as he let the dragon doctor lead him into the house.

“Well, doesn’t that beat all!” Slechtic spoke up as he rolled into the center of our confused little group. “Cursed and doing the bidding of another!”

I looked up at Will. “He said he was from Mirum.”

Will had pursed his lips and he nodded at my observation. “Yes. I wonder if that doesn’t mean that our foe originates from that city.”

“Does that mean something to you?” Ware questioned us.

I shrugged. “I don’t know unless the monks have decided to get their revenge on us.”

A dark shadow fell on Will’s brow. “There was another whom we ‘wronged’ there.”

I blinked at him before my eyes widened. “That snake guy! What was his name?”

“Simon Baddock,” Will reminded me.

Vargas wrinkled her nose. “That slithery serpent? I had heard he had finally met his demise.”

I snapped my fingers. “And he knew about spells and stuff like that, too! Maybe he knew about this curse!”

“He may have but you will recall we disposed of him,” Will pointed out.

Ware crossed his arms over his chest and gave a harumph. “Like you disposed of this sickly darkness?”

“More so. His body was completely obliterated,” Will assured him.

Doubt nagged at my mind. “But what if we didn’t?”

“Then I wonder why he didn’t take his revenge while we remained in Mirum,” Will pointed out. “He had an extensive knowledge of curses and poisons, and yet he waits this long and uses a tailor of all people to do his bidding.” Will closed his eyes and shook his head. “No, I believe he met his end during our confrontation.”

“Then perhaps another who knew him?” Ware suggested.

“Whoever that could be is anyone’s guess,” Will replied as he grasped my hand tightly in his. “And that makes it all the more important that we should remain inside, at least for the time being. The curse may be capable of infecting anyone.”

Vargas’ eyes widened. “Even dragons?”

Will met her gaze with a look of warning in his eyes. “I would rather not find out.”