A Soldier's Life

Chapter 184: Getting Boned

Chapter 184: Getting Boned

Antonia Segreto relaxed and enjoyed my discomfort at her knowledge of my origins. I looked to Castile for help, but she had an impassive expression and was not likely to aid me. Antonia finally spoke, breaking the tense silence, “He doesn’t look like much. I think he might prove more of a liability for our plans.”

“Don’t scare the boy. He might do something you will regret, Antonia.” Konstantin said, irritated and walking casually away from the window.

Antonia smiled with some mirth, “If he is so dangerous, Konstantin, then why did I just learn he was an other worlder an hour ago?” That statement was somewhat reassuring that Konstantin had kept my secret. But how long Konstantin had known I was an other worlder was another question for another time.

Konstantin stated in a relaxed tone, “I was only tasked with keeping Castile alive. She is alive, and I have given you much more in my service.” He gestured respectfully at the quiet Castile.

Antonia pursed her lips in distaste. “I would have preferred to learn of the ruins of Atlantium sooner.” She focused on Konstantin and then on me, “It makes me wonder what else you might be withholding.” She turned to me, “Fine. He might be useful. What do you have in mind for him?”

Konstantin leaned on a table that squeaked slightly as it shifted on the floor, “He can handle the secondary Archives.”

Antonia hissed, annoyed, “Revealing our plans in the open.”

High Mage Zyna interrupted, “This room is secure. I installed the array myself last time I served as the Chancellor of the War College and used this suite.” Her penetrating gaze studied me. “I agree. I think he can do it. Cornelius was looking for someone capable. I think this other worlder is a good choice.” She smiled reassuringly at me.

Antonia’s eyes were appraising me again, “You would bet all our lives on an unknown entity.” Antonia shifted uncomfortably in her seat to look at me better.@@@@

“He has killed a manticore and wyverns on his own and survived deep in the Shimmering Labyrinth. The boy is more than what he seems.” Konstantin addressed Antonia in seriousness and praise. I must be dreaming if Konstantin was praising me openly.

I felt the need to say something as they were discussing my fate like I was not here. “I prefer not to be called a boy. I am 26.”

Antonia waved, dismissing my words with her hand like I did not factor into her decision. “We will only get one chance to place someone in the Archives.” She continued. “I am not sure this one is our best bet.”

Castile stepped forward, “No, he is. It will fulfill one of the conditions we set for my aide.”

Antonia seemed to be weighing her options. She clicked her tongue, “Fine. If he missteps, then we can cut our losses.” I was not sure, but I think she just said they would kill me if I didn’t play along.

Konstantin clapped the table in apparent excitement, “I will go tell Cornelius. The next class of Hounds should be assembled in a few months.”

“In the meantime, he can serve as my bodyguard at the Mage College to shield him from the First Citizens,” Zyna said, giving me a wink and an encouraging smile. Why did that smile make chills run through me?

I looked at those assembled, and they seemed to think that I was going to do whatever they wanted. I was getting frustrated being in the dark as everything was being hinted at. I needed some bargaining power and control. “What is this task with the Archives?” I asked firmly.

Antonia sighed and committed to bringing me in, “The Archives are where they store blood samples of the Empire’s mages.”

I looked at Castile as she told me something slightly different. “I thought there were two archives?”

Antonia nodded, sighed, and started explaining as she would to a child, “There are. One of the Archive vaults is in the Imperial Palace. The other is known only to the Emperor and guarded by an elite group of the Hounds under the command of Centurion Sergius.”

“So, you want me to infiltrate the Hounds and steal the blood samples of Castile?” I asked skeptically. I doubted I would last long in front of a Truthseeker when questioned about my role in this conspiracy.

Antonia laughed, “No, not just Castile. I have a list, but it is much too early for that. We have agents in the Palace who will handle the Archives there at the same time.”

A soft knock at the door had us pause, and the red-haired Zyna rose and opened the door. A short man in a mask stood in the hallway and scanned the room. The mask looked to be made from bone with a poorly proportioned face drawn on it. “Two?” He rasped in a monotone.

Zyna nodded, “Just two. I have some Endless Dark centipede toxin I can use to incapacitate them while you work.”

“If they want to watch, that is fine. I have a supply of oblivion pills as well.” His dry monotone voice came through the mask as indifferent. Did I really want to watch someone cut open my arms to get to the bone and then chisel a spell form on them? The short answer was not really.

I looked to Castile to see what she would do. She was rolling up her sleeves, and I guessed I couldn’t be the wimp. I volunteered, “I will go first and just the toxin.” The Bone Etcher black irises eyes behind the mask appraised me, but he eventually indicated a chair at the dining room table for me to sit in.

I moved to a chair at a dusty table, and he produced a vice to lock my arm in place on the table while he worked. I couldn’t believe I was doing this, but if it gave me the ability to avoid the Truthseekers, it would be worth it. My right arm was immobilized, and Zyna placed a large jar of green liquid on the table.

The Etcher took the jar, and I noticed the skin on his hand was translucent gray, and deep blue veins beat beneath them. I started to get a bad feeling and thought of changing my mind. He rubbed a thick green mucus on the forearm, and it immediately took effect, absorbing into the skin. The toxin not only affected my arm but my entire body. I tried to fight the effects, but I slowly slumped in the chair as I lost control of my body. “That was a large dose,” Zyna commented as the Etcher strapped my body and head to remain upright. He didn’t respond to Zyna’s comment. I realized the man had not used gloves—so he was immune to the toxin.

The Etcher sat to do his work on my right arm. He stabbed deeply and pulled his dagger along the flesh, opening my forearm arm up. I jerked reflexively with each cut as he worked to expose the bone. He paused, slightly surprised I moved. He looked back at Zyna who was out of my sight line, “He has a strong constitution.” He lathered some more green mucus until he was satisfied I was immobilized. My eyes were half closed, but I could still see him work.

He cleaned a six-inch section of bone and produced a large runic stylus. He began making intricate runic marks on the bone with a practiced hand. Leaving a thin trail of silvery metal embedded in the bone. The smell of cooking flesh reached my nose. I may have jumped into this a little quickly. What guarantees did I have that they were doing what they said they were doing? Maybe this was a slave branding.

It was hard to resist my instincts to channel my aether to heal myself. He worked rapidly, but doing the first arm took over an hour. During the procedure, he paused to administer more green toxin when my muscles twitched. When he finished, he folded the flesh and muscle back down and poured a healing potion into the wound. The wound closed rapidly, and a thin but rapidly fading scar soon remained. I could feel the pattern of the spell form itching under the flesh, but maybe that was just because I knew it was there.

The second arm proceeded much as the first, and the masked man spoke in a flat tone while working on the second arm. “This spell form utilizes the natural flow of aether in your body. It counters the spell form of a Truthseeker. They will perceive everything you say as being truthful. Be careful how you speak. Do not get caught by saying something when your interrogators know it to be false,” his dry voice rasped.

He finished the second arm and closed the wound with the rest of the healing potion. Relieved, I released my hold on my instincts to heal myself. There was not much healing to be done as he had used a powerful potion, yet still, it was like scratching an itch. I was still immobile and found my healing spell could not affect the etchings on my bone, and the foreign etchings continued to itch.

The man was setting up Castile and commented in his flat tone, “It is permanent and now part of you. It will always itch, but you will learn to ignore it with time. If your bone shatters and is healed, it will be reformed. The only way to remove it is to extract the entire bone. You need the inscriptions on both arms for the effect to work, so don’t lose an arm.” His delivery was flat, but I was fairly certain he was making a joke.

I had some control over my mouth and slurred, “I will do my best.” My quip came out gibberish as my tongue didn’t work properly yet.

My fingers twitched as the toxin started to fade, and I slowly regained movement. Castile was starting her own treatment, and the bone etcher seemed to have more difficulty with the smaller available surface, having to wrap the spell forms around the bone, twisting her arm unnaturally to work. Zyna undid the straps holding my body to the chair.

By the time he finished with Castile, I had regained my movement and found I had drooled extensively on the front of my armor. My eyes had teared considerably from the crusty salt on my face. Even though I had felt nothing, my body had reacted during the surgery, my tear ducts working overtime and my salivary glands reacting to the smell of burning meat. Castile was experiencing the same as her eyes dribbled tears, and her mouth foamed slightly and dribbled down her chin, mixing with her tears.

The Etcher stood after Castile was healed, “It is finished. Lie to me.” He instructed us.

“You have an incredible bedside manner,” I stated. A tingly feeling, like electric sparks, danced under my arms. Apparently, an added benefit of the work was that I was aware of someone using a truth spell form on me.

“Truth,” He stated, not commenting on my joke. He turned to Castile, who was still recovering. He waited till she could speak.

“I enjoyed that,” she spat out in twisted words as she tried to gain control over her tongue.

“Truth,” the Etcher stated, packed up his tools without further comment. He exited the room, leaving Castile, Zyna, and myself alone.

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