Worm shit and green sticks. I scrambled for one of the beds, sliding under it with far more noise than was good. The butt of my spear bounced off the floor and I grabbed it, pulling it tight to my side as the door creaked open. A tiny figure cloaked in a dark material from head to foot slipped in; the very same one I’d seen at the edge of the river.
Whoever she was, she would have barely come up to the top of my breasts, so maybe five feet tall at best. Other than that, I could see no distinguishing features. If she was Cassava, she’d found a way to hide her height as well as her features. Whoever she was, she hid behind a spell that cloaked her, hiding her. This was no ghost, no specter.
She crept through the healer’s room to the counter where the healing balms were and grabbed a jar of ointment. Spinning around she searched the room and I held my breath.
“Who is here? I can sense you.” The voice was wavy and distorted and I couldn’t tell if they were even male or female. If it hadn’t been for Smoke’s belief it was a girl, I wasn’t sure I would have thought that.
She took a few steps toward me and I lay there, thinking that she was about the right size to be Finley. But what the hell would the Queen of the Deep be doing sneaking around the Pit? No, Finley would never stoop to this kind of behavior.
A few more steps and she was at the edge of the bed. Even her feet were cloaked in shadows. I had to give it to her, it was a disguise worth learning.
Peta gave out a high-pitched meow and trotted along the edge of the counter, drawing the attention away from me. The cloaked one spun and stared.
“Damn cats. I hate felines. The first thing I’ll do when I rule the Pit as queen is kill all you snotty creatures.”
Well, now I knew for sure she was a she. Though not a nice girl, that was obvious. Peta let out a long low hiss, her fur standing on end. But she didn’t say anything and the mystery girl slipped out of the healer’s room as quietly as she’d entered. I stayed where I was for another minute before I crawled out.
“Peta, did you—”
“No, I could not even get a scent on her, whatever spell covers her, it is complete. It makes no sense, there are no young rivals for the throne here.” She shook her head.
“Did you see what ointment she took?” Already my mind leapt forward. We could be on the lookout for someone who had whatever injury the girl was trying to heal.
“Burn salve,” Peta said.
I nodded, and debated going after the girl. “That is no ghost.” I stopped and shook my head. “Keep looking, maybe we can still find something solid.”
“Unless you have an idea of what it is you are looking for, I will not keep sniffing jars.” Peta yawned, her tiny jaws cracking wide as she flashed her teeth and rough tongue at me.
I crouched beside her. “I attacked four Enders when I was here, all the injuries were bad, but the two worst happened right here. As soon as I hurt them, the healers were helping them. How could they have died when they had healers—the best in our world—right here?”
Peta’s eyes widened as she caught what I was getting at. “If someone wanted to see you go down in flames, they would only have to make sure the Enders didn’t survive.”
“Exactly. But I have to prove it.” And therein lay the rub. We scoured the room, top to bottom three times over but found nothing out of the ordinary. Until I opened the second to last cupboard. Inside were stacks of paper, labeled with names.
“Peta.”
She ran to my side, putting her paws on my knee as I crouched. “They would be the most recent, no one has died since then.”
I grabbed the top four pieces of paper.
Name: Ender Blaze
Injury: Spear wound to lateral oblique, three ribs broken.
Treatment: Stitches, binding for the ribs, heavy dose of herbals for pain.
Prognosis: Stable, good condition.
Name: Ender Flare
Injury: Spear wound to neck, artery cut.
Treatment: Stitches, infusion of blood, heavy dose of herbals for pain.
Prognosis: Stable, good condition.
Name: Ender Smudge
Injury: Spear wound to stomach.
Treatment: Stitches, loose wrap, heavy dose of herbals for pain.
Prognosis: Stable, good condition.
Name: Ender Stokes
Injury: Spear wound to stomach.
Treatment: Stitches, loose wrap, heavy dose of herbals for pain.
Prognosis: Stable, good condition.
I flipped each of the papers over, seeing the times the healers checked on each of them. “Everything here shows they were all healing, in good spirits,” I whispered.
Peta tapped the paper with a paw. “Until the end.”
The final line on each paper was simple. DOMC.
“Dead on morning check.” She translated for me.
“Peta, will this help? Will Fiametta even look at this?” And in the back of my head I wondered why the healers hadn’t shown these papers to their queen.
She wrinkled up her nose. “It’s hard to say. Maybe. It’s your best shot, I think.”
I folded the papers, sliding them under my vest. My fingers brushed against the letter from my father. I still had to read that too, but I was reluctant. A part of me was afraid to see what exactly he had to say.
The torchlight flickered and I glanced over my shoulder. The bamboo was burnt more than halfway down and Cactus’s shirt was long gone.
“Peta, we’re running out of time.” I grabbed a spool of cloth from the counter top, bandages folded up and ready for an emergency. I wrapped them around the torch hoping to stave off the inevitable.