[Final Fantasy IV] Every Light Casts A Shadow, Chapter Twenty-Six: The Cure

[lassarina]

Pairings/Characters: Kain Highwind, plus cast
Rating: R (overall), G (this chapter)
Warnings: Spoilers. Violence and language. Occasional sexual content. Other warnings may apply that are not listed here.
Notes: This fic belongs to the Lucis Ante Terminum arc. Chapter list is here.
Summary: Though it is possible to return home, it is rarely possible to return affairs to their previous state. Sometimes the only course of action is to move forward.
Wordcount: 5900 this chapter.
Beta: celeloriel

Rosa was waiting for him in his office. Kain marked the dark circles beneath her eyes, but the set fury of her expression suggested to him that now was not the time to critique the Queen's sleeping habits or lack thereof. He told the guards to request that the kitchens send enough breakfast for himself and the Queen. Since she did not seem inclined to speak to him, he contented himself with a bow and took his seat without more than a simple greeting. He was not entirely certain his grip on his temper would hold. When he picked up his notes to review them, Rosa cleared her throat. He looked up to meet her gaze, and wondered how some of the Council could possibly think her mild and weak-willed.

"I find it impossible that no one noticed this illness previously," Rosa said, wasting no time on pleasantries.

Kain sighed. "I do not," he said simply. "If it has not affected a large number of the population, there would be no reason to notice."

Rosa's frown was fearsome to behold. "This cannot go on," she said. "There are simply not enough mages who know Esuna, and we cannot train them quickly enough. The new students have been slow to learn. Proper nourishment and rest are essential to mastery of magic, especially in the early stages."

That intrigued Kain—it would explain why comparatively many of Baron's mages were drawn from the noble and merchant classes—but he did not have time to address that now. He scrawled a note to himself to see about scholarships for the study of magic, something of which Rosa would no doubt approve; it could be paid for with mandatory service at completion of the degree, to reimburse the kingdom for its expenditure. It had never occurred to him that this might be a problem, since even the youngest child in Mysidia could and did wield magic like breathing. "Do you know its origin?" he asked her. "I cannot believe this is a natural illness; I have never seen one strike so swiftly."

"Nor I." Rosa paused when the maid arrived with breakfast, and waited until the girl had bobbed a curtsey and departed.

Kain stared at the food instead of taking any. Rosa poured herself a cup of tea and spent a great deal of time making sure that her toast was buttered evenly from edge to edge. He wondered when she had become afraid of him. Awkward, yes, they had been awkward since he had aided Golbez in her capture and abuse—he would tell himself no lies about his actions then—but even then she had not feared him.

"If it is not a natural illness," he said eventually, "then we must consider the cause, and how to cure it. The question becomes whether it is a deliberate attack upon Baron."

"Esuna is effective," Rosa said.

"You said yourself we have not enough mages with the skill to cast it," Kain pointed out.

Rosa lifted her hands in a gesture of helplessness. "Then what are we to do?" she asked.

Kain dumped food from the serving dishes onto his plate at random and ate mechanically while he thought about it and stacked reports for the Council meeting. His eyes alighted on a formal letter from Solon with the trade requests for the spring and summer. "Ask the mages," he said.

"Kain," Rosa said, her patience apparently fraying, "I have just finished telling you that our mages cannot do this."

He shook his head and chewed his food faster until he could speak without causing unfortunate incidents involving eggs. "Ask Solon and Porom," he clarified.

Rosa looked doubtful. "Do you think they will help?"

"Do you prefer the alternative?" Kain asked pointedly. "In the worst case, they decline, and in the meanwhile we can begin our own research. Isn't Lord Nerthic's youngest daughter a mage?"

"Constance is quite gifted," Rosa said distractedly, her gaze, and thoughts, already focused far away. Kain fell silent and finished his breakfast, adding more eggs and toast to Rosa's plate when it became clear that, in her distraction, she was actually eating her food.

She frowned down at her plate. "This wasn't there a moment ago," she said, and Kain admitted to himself that he would never beat Edge for sheer ability to manipulate objects in an area and have the other inhabitants fail to notice.

He summoned his most reasonable tone of voice. "You said yourself that a mage requires sufficient food and sleep for her best work."

Rosa's eyes narrowed, but she could hardly argue with his point. She scooped egg onto a piece of toast and he went back to reviewing his notes of the Council reports. The silence eased into something more comfortable—not the easy feeling of intense work that had preceded Council meetings when Cecil was still alive, but not the bitter strain of the past five years.

A maid came to clear away the remains of their meal, and Rosa stood. "I am going to travel to Mist," she said.

Kain looked up to see an expression of calm determination upon her face. "What shall I tell the Council?"

"I presume you are going to ask them why we first heard of this illness yesterday," Rosa said, too softly. "You may tell them that, as is my duty—our duty—I have gone to seek aid for a problem beyond my ability to solve alone."

He had not seen her so furious since—his mind shied away from the comparison, but she had not been so angry since the night before his wedding. The nobility feared him, but he knew in his heart that when stirred to anger, Rosa and Cecil could be more stern than he could ever dream of; not for nothing had Cecil been called the most powerful dark knight in generations. Rosa was implacable when her skills were called upon to heal another.

"I will tell them of Your Majesty's journey," he said, gravely formal to cover the shiver that ran down his spine.

She nodded and did not smile. He waited until she was out of the room to lean his head back against his chair and close his eyes. A moment later he opened them and got slowly to his feet. The meeting would be starting soon.

Half the Council was there when he arrived. He commanded a guard to bring Jalen and then faced the Council, struggling to keep his anger banked. Because they had failed to disclose this illness, Elizabeth and Rosa had nearly died. He had no idea how widespread the disease was, and the cure was too rare and precious. He ought to lock them all in the docks district and let them die.

Cecil would not have approved.

Lord Nerthic entered the room, saw Kain standing at the head of the table in a battle stance rather than seated in his chair, and chose to remain on his feet likewise. Lady Farrell leaned forward, her eyes bright as a bird's behind her spectacles, and Lord Darmin sat straight and proud in his chair, though his hand rested casually near the dagger he wore.

Half the remaining Council members began to sweat.

The guard preceded Jalen into the room, and Kain watched him close his mouth on the greeting he started to give. Instead, Jalen proceeded at a measured pace to his chair, and stood in front of it with as severe and solemn an expression as he could manage. Kain was certain that he himself had not been half so solemn at Jalen's age.

"This meeting of the Council of Baron is called to order," Kain said. He did not care if half the members were missing; the important parties were present.

"You may as well tell us why you look as though you're ready to start a war, Lord Regent," Lady Farrell said when no one else seemed willing to speak.

He could happily have thrown half the Council off the top of his tower, but Lady Farrell was one of his favourites. He nodded to her and then turned slowly until he faced Lady Nerul, whose lands included all of Baron City save the castle and its grounds. "Lady Nerul," he said, "I am told there is a plague in the docks."

She flinched. "I was informed of it yesterday afternoon, Lord Regent."

"And how long has this plague been striking down the citizens of Baron?" Kain asked.

Her face drained of color. "For between a week and ten days, Lord Regent." She clenched her hands so tightly in her lap that her knuckles went white. The two Councilors who sat nearest her shifted their chairs subtly away from hers. The scrape of the door opening to admit another half-dozen Councilors seemed almost deafening.

"Perhaps you could explain to the Council how it is that it went undetected so long," Kain said. "I am told the symptoms are remarkable." He let a beat of silence go by, then spoke as Lady Nerul drew breath. "Furthermore, I am curious as to how Her Majesty the Queen Regent was able to hear of this plague and go to treat its victims, yet you, who are tasked with the well-being of Baron City and all of its inhabitants, were unaware until she did. You see, I presume that you were notified shortly after the Queen Regent drove herself to collapse in her efforts to mend those who had fallen ill."

She curled in on herself, looking terrified, but there was nowhere to go. She had been on the Council but two years, after her mother's death, and had managed the seizure and distribution of food with reasonable competence. "Yes, Lord Regent," she said so softly that Lord Nerthic, seated on the opposite side of the horseshoe-shaped table, had to lean forward to hear her. "I was notified of the illness after the Queen Regent visited the docks, and I sent my agents to gather more information once I understood the basics of what had transpired."

Jalen frowned. "Lady Nerul, I would think a week long enough to have been notified of deaths in the docks."

"I apologize, Your Majesty," she almost whispered. "I was not informed."

"I am curious, Lady Nerul," Kain said, "how you could not be informed. I can think of two possibilities. One is that those affected were too afraid to report it to you. Of course I cannot imagine what sort of actions might create that impression." He paused long enough to see the impact of his statement, and then continued with as much scorn as he could muster. "The second is that the residents of the docks assumed you would not care, because they are only peasants, after all. In either case, it does not speak well of your stewardship."

"If it pleases the Lord Regent and the King," she said in a shaky voice, "I have gathered some information that may be of use to the Crown."

Kain gestured for her to continue. He did not take his seat.

She arranged a sheaf of papers more precisely in front of her, and plucked the top sheet to hold out to Kain. He made no move to take it. A guard approached to claim it instead and convey it to Kain. "That is a list," she said, "of the people I could determine for certain were notified of the illness and who chose not to relay the information to me. I present this list for the Crown's convenience; I have already terminated their employment. This," and she tapped the paper in front of her, "is a list of all of the ships that have docked in Baron City and in Eastern Harbour in the past three weeks. I sent a messenger by chocobo last night to get the list from Eastern Harbour. For the most part there is little of note, but I did find out that this illness struck Eastern Harbour a week before it reached Baron City. I checked that against the list of ships arriving, and found that the day after a trade ship from Agart arrived, the illness began to spread."

"Go on," Kain said when no more words seemed to be forthcoming.

"That is all I know, Lord Regent," she said. "I am sorry. I have more agents seeking information both here and in Eastern Harbour."

"And in the meantime?" Jalen asked.

She frowned. "I beg your pardon, King Jalen, but I do not understand your question."

Kain glanced at Jalen and for a moment saw only Cecil; his friend had worn just such an expression whenever he caught their friends in harmful affairs as boys. He blinked and saw Jalen again—the slightly different shape of mouth, the higher forehead he had inherited from Rosa—instead of Cecil. Jalen leaned forward in his chair to stare directly at Lady Nerun, who shrank back. "In the meantime," Jalen said, "my people are dying of this plague. What are you doing about that?"

"I—I requested the help of the white mages from the castle," she stammered.

Kain looked at one of the door guards and tilted his head; the guard saluted and left the room immediately, presumably to find out the truth of her claim.

"Lord Regent," Jalen said.

"Yes, Your Majesty?" Kain turned slowly to face him.

"Where is Her Majesty?" Jalen asked.

"The Queen Regent has gone to consult with others skilled in the art of white magic in hopes of finding a more efficacious cure, King Jalen." Kain chose his words carefully.

"I see."

Kain looked around the table. No one seemed willing to speak. "Are there any more matters that must be addressed today?" he inquired.

"No, Lord Regent," Lord Nerthic replied after a moment. "However, I have a suggestion: that those of us with personal healers offer their services to the city. I plan to send my daughter Constance to Eastern Harbour today to see what help she can render there."

"Wise," Lady Farrell said dryly. "House Farrell does not keep a healer on hand, but the house will pay for three days' services from a white mage for the good of the city."

"I suggest you collaborate to determine where your resources can do the most good," Kain said. "Lord Nerthic, present me a summary when the plans are complete." He looked around the table, and observed that House Vyran was not represented—House Vyran, whose lands included Eastern Harbour. "In addition, I would like to know what House Vyran is doing about this, as their lands include Eastern Harbour. Lord Nerthic, that task is yours. The meeting is adjourned."

"Lord Regent, I would speak with you," Jalen said as he turned to go. "In your offices."

Kain was aware of the sudden sharpening of attention focused on them, and wondered where he had misstepped, to displease Jalen. He bowed. "As you command, Your Majesty."

They were silent as the guards escorted them to Kain's office, and Jalen waved the guards out once they arrived. Kain stood behind his desk, hands at his sides, and tried to be grateful that whatever Jalen intended to say, his shame would not be witnessed.

He could see the makings of a great king in this too-solemn boy who stood before him, whose gravity was totally unlike Cecil's at that age.

"Is Mama safe?" Jalen asked.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Kain answered. "She has gone to Mist, to consult with the mages there."

Jalen nodded. "Do you think they will help?"

"I think they will help as much as they can," Kain said carefully. "I do not know if it will be enough."

Jalen considered this. "Should Sophia be sent away?" he asked very softly. "If anything happens to me..."

Kain had to close his eyes for a moment. To contemplate one's own succession at eleven was a terrifying idea. "I do not think so, Your Majesty," he said. "We can treat individuals fairly easily."

"If you are sure," Jalen said, and he was somewhere between terrifyingly too old and young enough to want reassurance.

"Her Majesty the Queen Regent is sure," Kain said wryly.

A smile flashed across Jalen's face. "I wouldn't want to argue with Mama either," he said.

"Is there aught else?" Kain asked when the silence spun out.

"No," Jalen said, but it was hesitant.

Kain straightened his shoulders and faced Jalen directly. "How may I serve you, King Jalen?"

Jalen frowned, the crease between his brows a mirror image of Cecil's. "It is silly."

"Nonetheless, I would hear your request," Kain said. It was too formal and he knew it, but he also knew the guards could hear.

Jalen shuffled his feet a little. "Sophia says she misses you," he said. "You don't play with us anymore."

Kain tried not to smile. Of all the things Jalen could ask for, he had not thought of this. "That does not seem so difficult a wish to grant," he said. "Shall we both go and play with her?"

Jalen brightened and nodded too fast, and almost skipped out of the office ahead of him. Kain followed at a slightly more decorous pace, and wished that all Baron's—and Jalen's—problems could be solved so easily.

~*~

A week later, he was neck-deep in papers and wishing that Rosa would return to help him with the workload when a firm knock came on his office door.

"Sorry to disturb you, Lord Regent, but there's a man here that says he absolutely must speak to you. Wants to throw himself on the King's Justice," the guard called through the door.

Kain looked up from the treasury report before him with a frown. Claiming the King's Justice was rare, because it usually meant one had committed a grave crime but believed there were extenuating circumstances—or sometimes merely that the claimant desired to make a martyr of himself for whatever cause he espoused. In any event, it was more interesting (if, perhaps, less useful) than projections of wool production in southern Baron.

"Bring him in," he called after a moment's effort to ensure nothing sensitive was visible on his desk.

The man the guards conducted in—four of them, Kain noticed—was of middle years, not yet graying, and starkly thin. His trousers and tunic hung off his frame as though made for a much larger man, though the length was right. From the baggy skin beneath his jaw, he must have lost a good deal of body mass very quickly. Through the lacing of his tunic Kain saw prominent collarbones with pronounced hollows beneath. He also saw the flash of a faceted ruby ring on the man's left hand, and recognized the odd cut of the stone. Rosa used to wear such a ring when they were teenagers venturing beyond the safety of castle walls to have their small adventures.

A mage, then.

Kain remained seated as the guards conducted the man closer to his desk, continuing to study this would-be petitioner. He was suntanned, though not weathered, so probably he had recently spent some time out-of-doors and had not yet adapted to that lifestyle. His expression was calm, though he had dark circles beneath his eyes and his hands shook slightly.

"I am told you wish to throw yourself upon the King's Justice," Kain said.

"Yes, Lord Regent Highwind," the man replied.

Kain pulled a fresh sheet of paper from his desk drawer and prepared his quill. "State your name, and your crime."

"My name is Skerrin," he said. "I—" He paused, and swallowed hard. "My crime is not so simple to explain," he said after a moment. "May I give you a short timeline of events? I believe you will come to understand."

"Very brief," Kain said. In truth, he would not act until Rosa returned, but this man had no way of knowing that.

"I am from Mysidia," Skerrin said. "I left there four weeks ago on a merchant ship bound for Agart."

Kain paused halfway through a line of notes. Ink dripped from the quill onto the page, a spreading blotch of black. It resembled the map of Baron City that he had been marking with known plague victims. "Go on," he said, quietly. The guards flinched.

"I had petitioned Elder Livius—" Kain noted that the term of respect was not accompanied by similar tone—"to allow me to travel here for trade. Since he assumed rulership of Mysidia, such things have been...difficult." Skerrin bowed his head. "I should have realized he gave his permission too easily. All was well until I set foot in Baron. People around me began to fall ill. I am a white mage; I healed those I knew about, but it spread far faster than I could stop it. I asked around in the port city where I landed, but was assured no one had heard of any such thing before. I believe Livius arranged for me to bring plague to your lands. Had I known his intention, I would never have come here. I wish to throw myself on the King's Justice, because while there is no recompense for the lives I have taken, still some steps can be taken to redress the wrong I've done you and your nation."

Kain leaned forward in his seat. Skerrin met his eyes directly, not flinching, and seemed more ashamed than afraid.

"Why should I believe you?" Kain asked. "And how would Elder Livius have accomplished this?"

"The second question is easier than the first, Lord Regent. Magic—some magic—is like a coin. That which cures can also kill. You may know of this with medicines brewed from herbs; in small doses they treat diseases, while in larger they can kill a man in hours. The Esuna magic wielded by a white mage cleanses the body; invert it, and you cause sickness."

Kain was no mage; most of his experiences with magic had led him to distrust its use generally. He thought of the icy fingers of Golbez's magic digging into his flesh and seizing his bones, and he did not doubt that Skerrin could do what he said.

"You have answered the how," Kain said. He let the silence spin out for three breaths. "You have not yet told me why I should believe you."

Skerrin nodded. "I don't expect you to set me free, Lord Regent," he said. "Only a fool throws himself on a monarch's mercy and expect to live. I can give you information; I could tell you, for example, that this disease can be cured only with Esuna. I can tell you ways I think Livius might have engineered the spell, and arranged for it to strike only once I reached Baron. They might give your mages enough of a basis to determine an alternative."

"I hear a great deal of speculation in your statements," Kain said, striving for calm. "If you could figure out how he did it, might you not simply reverse it?"

Skerrin hesitated, plainly uncomfortable. Kain could not tell if his discomfort was a result of him not liking the question, or of being put on the spot. "I do not think I could reverse it alone, Lord Regent," he said at last. "I am a mage of middling power at best. Elder Livius has had decades more than I to hone his abilities." He paused again, and his face screwed up into a grimace of distaste. "I noticed that on the day I left Mysidia, a few of the younger—I should say, the more outspoken—mages were not around the Tower of Prayer as they might normally be. I suspect they may have been slain to fuel whatever spell Elder Livius cast."

It was a tidy explanation, Kain had to admit. He was yet unsure if it was too tidy to be believed. "And why would he strike at Baron?" he asked, though he thought he might know the answer already.

Skerrin laughed, a bitter and hollow sound. "You protect Solon," he said simply. "You gave him Mist, a land soaked in magic, and everyone knows that were he to be attacked, Baron would stand in his defense—if not on your word, then on Her Majesty Queen Rosa's. Livius will not believe he holds Mysidia securely until Solon is dead." He looked up then to meet Kain's eyes, and his own were dull and sorrowful. "I think what you mean to ask is, why I would tell you this."

"The thought had crossed my mind that you are here to lay a false trail," Kain said. "After all, I note you did not take ill."

"My magic protected me somewhat," Skerrin said, "and....I have been none too gentle in my own criticisms. He would have known that I would react in horror to what I saw; perhaps in giving you information I play into his plans. I have no way of knowing. What I do know is that he is ill-suited to rule Mysidia, something our last Elder saw long ago. I will not stay and watch the destruction."

Kain nodded, his mind too full of whirling thoughts to come up with any coherent answer at the moment. "The Crown will consider your petition," he said formally. "Guards, please take him to the prison."

"Thank you for listening, Lord Regent," Skerrin said, and performed as close to a formal bow as he could manage while held by guards.

Kain sat in his office for a long time after the guards had left, wondering if he dared trust what information he had just been given.

~*~

Rosa returned the next day, accompanied by a number of the mages who had relocated to Mist as well as six chocobos so laden with books and scrolls that it was a marvel they kept up with the rest. Kain met them in the front hall.

"We don't have an answer yet," Rosa said before he could even greet her.

He bowed politely. "I did not intend to ask, Your Majesty," he said quietly. "However, you and I should speak—some information has come up in your absence."

"Of course," Rosa said. "In the meantime—" She looked to Porom, who stood behind her.

"Good morning, Lord Regent," Porom said, and bowed. "With your permission, we would like to treat those in the city who are ill. It will help us to work on a more permanent solution."

"Of course," Kain said, wondering why they asked him when Rosa would surely have given her permission already. He turned to the guards who stood watch. "See that our guests have appropriate escort," he said. A guard saluted and hurried off to relay the message. Kain had made it clear that "appropriate escort" included such trivial things as "making sure they stop to eat and rest," because after half of Baron's white mages had driven themselves to collapse on the first day, it seemed like a wise precaution.

"I need to bathe, and to see my children," Rosa said to him. "I shall seek you out afterward—in your office, I presume."

Kain bowed and waited until she had left the room—though equal in voice for governance, she was still his superior in rank—and then went back to his office. He intended to get work done, but instead he sat staring blankly at the notes he had taken in that first conversation with Skerrin. He had spoken to the mage again since, but the conversation had quickly devolved into technical terminology that Kain could not fathom. He had planned to have Mistress Salan speak to Skerrin this afternoon, but with Rosa returned, that would not be as necessary.

The list of deaths mocked him, a failure of his stewardship. They had decreased dramatically in the past nine days, though even with his authorization to burn through most of the army's stockpile of restorative items, the mages could not keep up with those falling ill. The disease did not appear to travel as a normal disease might; he could not simply close off sections of the city and permit only healers to cross the boundary, as he might with a normal plague. It all came back to magic. He did not mind enemies he could fight; even a seemingly hopeless pitched battle could sometimes be won with clever tactics, and to die with his spear in hand was a noble thing. Magic was not something he could fight; the scar that branded his back was only one reminder.

Cecil's death had not been noble, even on the battlefield. Cecil's death had been a terrible mistake, one that Kain knew he was responsible for.

Cecil would have handled this better.

He did not even hear Rosa enter the room, but he started when she touched his shoulder. Her touch was light, almost impersonal, and he felt the brush of her Scan spell over him.

It could be too easy to forget that magic healed the sick, saved the dying, and protected the land.

"I'm not ill," he said.

"I will be the judge of that," she replied with gentle rebuke. She lifted her hand from his shoulder and went back around the desk to sit down. "How many?"

He ran his hands through his hair, dislodging the formerly orderly queue. "Three hundred." It was not a large number, compared to the population of Baron, but it was not negligible. "Mostly the poor; they die before they can get to a healer, or they're too afraid to seek one out although healers have been made available. I don't know." He would not shove the stacks of paper off his desk like a petulant child. He was a man grown; such behaviour was beneath him, both as Dragoon and as Regent.

Rosa nodded gravely. She did not blame him, which was almost worse. "Solon and Porom think that it is not a natural disease, and I agree."

"As do I. A man came to throw himself on the King's Justice yesterday." He saw the sharpening of interest in her eyes, and nudged his notes across the desk at her. "He says he is from Mysidia, and that Livius made of him a vector for this disease."

Rosa read his notes quickly, her mouth compressed into a thin, flat line. "You believe him?" she asked at last.

"I do not know." Kain rubbed his eyes. "His explanation seems logical enough, though I have not the knowledge to realize if he is withholding basic information about magic. I intended to have Mistress Salan interview him, but now that you are returned—"

"We will speak to him together." Rosa tapped her fingers against the desk, an idle pattern to echo her thoughts. "I will ask him what he would do to cure it. Solon believed there might be a ritual that could...somehow spread Esuna throughout Baron." She paused suddenly, and her face went pale. "Is this spreading beyond us, because of trade?"

Kain shook his head. "According to Skerrin, it is only for the citizens of Baron. We could send out a whole fleet of our sailors, ill unto death, and they could walk into Yang's palace and be the only ones to fall ill. Or so he claims. From Lady Nerun's admittedly hasty notes, this appears to be true; all of those dead were born in Baron."

Rosa shook her head, her eyes downcast. "This is not what magic is for, Kain," she said softly.

"Sometimes," he said slowly, "I wish it would just stay in Mysidia and leave the rest of the world alone." He saw the hurt in her expression, and he regretted causing it, but this was a statement long in the coming. "Magic has done me far more ill than good, Rosa."

Her shoulders slumped slightly before she pulled them straight again, the picture of a queen. "Let us speak to this Mysidian," she said coolly. "If he has information that can help us, I want it."

They walked in silence to the dungeon, trailed by guards who were equally silent. The castle dungeon was empty save for Skerrin. According to the castle guardsmen, he had been a model prisoner. Knowing he was a white mage, with access to magic governing sight and sound, Kain was suspicious, but he had seen no evidence that Skerrin had removed himself from the dungeon or otherwise caused any trouble, so he was forced to accept the report as given.

Rosa walked straight to his cell, where Skerrin was seated on the bed in a meditative position. He opened his eyes when she stopped, then got to his feet and made her a precise bow. "Your Majesty honors me," he said, "of which I am undeserving."

Rosa's expression did not change. "I am not interested in your courtesy," she said, harder than Kain had ever seen her—harsher than after Cecil's death. "I want to know what Livius has done to my nation, and I want to know how to reverse it."

Skerrin nodded. "Then, with Your Majesty's indulgence, I will begin at the beginning." He repeated what he had told Kain upon arriving in Baron, and from there the conversation rapidly exceeded Kain's capacity to follow. He remained present, an unnecessary protection for Rosa, but he could no more have explained what they were speaking of than he could have set the castle ablaze with a spell. Rosa seemed interested and at least moderately satisfied with the answers she received, though her questions were many. He watched expressions flit across her face—curiosity, anger, determination, sorrow—and though she was no less beautiful than she had been when they were children, he did not feel driven to be with her, to (he forced himself to admit to it) possess her utterly. He wondered if it was a function of age, or of the old adage about familiarity and contempt.

He had always thought he would find it a crushing tragedy to no longer love Rosa as he had when he and Cecil had competed for her attention; instead, it felt like a quiet peace.

The conversation about the technicalities of the plague seemed to be drawing to a close; Rosa stepped back from the bars of the prison cell looking thoughtful. "I may require further information from you," she said to Skerrin.

He spread his hands. "There is no price high enough to provide adequate recompense for what I have caused to happen, Your Majesty. Yet even if insufficient, it is still something."

She nodded, and turned to Kain. "Let us go," she said. He followed her out of the dungeon, and she did not speak again until they were at the main floor of the castle, where their paths would diverge. "I have to speak to Solon and Porom," she said.

"Did he tell you enough to cure it?" At her disbelieving stare, Kain sighed. "Rosa, for all that I understood what you spoke of, I might as well be an alligator trying to read."

"I believe we have enough information," she said, but she looked sad.

"But?" he prompted.

She shook her head. "There is much I must do, Kain. It will be well." She gave him a tired smile, and headed toward the classroom where Mistress Salan taught the would-be white mages.

Kain watched her go, disquieted, and then returned to his work, for there was little else he could do.