Casket of Souls

some of the pain, then found a clean tunic for him to replace his torn and bloody one.
    Seregil went next to the Palace and was admitted to Korathan’s private quarters, where the prince was in the process of dressing for the day’s duties.
    Korathan dismissed the valet and sat down with Seregil in the sitting room. “I received your message last night, and locked the city gates. I took you at your word, given the urgency of the messenger. The actors, however, had already fled, and apparently in a great hurry. The City Watch is searching for them, but they may have escaped before the gates were closed.”
    “I see. Well, I doubt they had anything to do with the deaths.”
    “I assume this all had something to do with the cabals?”
    “Yes and no.” Seregil showed him their evidence and explained the night’s events—the revelation of the cause of the sleeping death, their pursuit of Atre and Brader, and the true manner of the mysterious deaths among the cabals and the general populace. He took out the chain with Elani’s ring and brooch, along with the loose emerald, and gave them to the prince. “You have my deepest apologies for unwittingly exposing Queen Elani to such danger. I’ll abide by whatever punishment you think best.”
    Korathan took the jewels and shook his head. “You saved her life, and a good many others, from the sound of things. You have my thanks. I’ve a mind to raise you and Alec to a dukedom.”
    “I’d consider it a greater reward if you didn’t,” Seregil replied. “We’ll be much more effective at our current rank, if you take my meaning. A dukedom would raise too many questions, and seriously complicate our social lives.”
    Korathan smiled. “You’re a curious fellow, cousin, but Ithink you and Alec may be two of Skala’s most loyal and useful subjects, after all.”
    Seregil blinked in surprise, not at the compliment, but at the familial term; Korathan hadn’t called him “cousin” in a long time. “Thank you. I hope we continue to be for some time.”
    Thero arrived at the inn just after sunset, accompanied by Valerius. The wizard didn’t look much better than he had before, but he was on his feet, at least.
    Seregil brought them upstairs, where the Cavishes and Alec were anxiously waiting.
    Kari went to the wizard and embraced him. “I’m so glad you’re here! But you’re so pale! Are you strong enough?”
    Thero smiled down at her. “I am. And I promise you, I will do everything in my power to restore Illia, even if it takes my last ounce of strength.”
    “Please, please do!” Elsbet implored, tears glistening in her dark eyes.
    Micum put an arm around her, but his gaze was on the wizard as he said, “Don’t fret, love. If anyone can, it’s Thero.”
    The phial lay safely in the center of the table, on the map of Rhíminee still spread out there with the coins on it.
    Valerius carefully picked up the bottle and held it a moment, frowning. “You really believe the soul of Illia Cavish is in here? And yet her body is still alive.”
    “We can have that debate later,” said Thero. “Micum, would you and Alec clear the floor for me?”
    They pulled back the carpet, uncovering the smudged remains of the last circle. Working on hands and knees, Thero slowly inscribed a larger one. When he was done Micum carried Illia from the bedroom. She looked smaller, younger, more vulnerable, lying against her father’s shoulder in the oversized nightshirt.
    Micum laid her in the wizard’s lap, then handed him the phial. Thero reached out and wrote one last symbol, closing the circle.
    The critical moment had arrived, and the others stood around in tense silence as he broke the seal.
* * *
    Thero sent up a silent prayer to Illior Lightbearer, then murmured the spell of intent. The energy rose more slowly than usual in him, but he pressed on. He had to do this, and he would, at any cost. With that spell complete, he pried the cork from the bottle. At once a white plume of spirit surged from it like steam from a boiling kettle and swirled around him in a mist. No one in the room said a word.
    “Illia, can you hear me?” he asked.
    There was no face in the mist this time, but he heard the faint sound of crying, then a whispered
Thero?
    “Yes, Illia! Can you see me?”
    Yes, and Mother and Father and Elsbet. And Uncle Seregil and Uncle Alec
. There was a pause, then
And I see me. Am I dead, Thero?
    “No! You just need to go back into yourself, that’s all.