A thousand rolls of parchment lay spread across the long oak tabletop.
Geris extended his hands a half inch above the rolls nearest to him, his whole body tense and ready.
Sweat dripped down his forehead and pooled around his eyes, stinging them and eating away at his focus.
If he couldn’t find the answer in the next five minutes, Salitra was as good as dead.
He scanned the field again and again- nothing but darkness.
Too late, far too late.
“I’m sorry, Sali, I’m so sorr-“
WAIT.
Was that- yes! A spark!
A pinprick of intense light blossomed on his right, between two ornate letters.
With a cry he pulled a curved black blade from its sheath, breathed a prayer and stabbed the blade into the light.
Nothing happened.
Geris’s face clouded. His eyes began to open, but he shut them and waited a moment more.
As the first tear escaped , a primal scream of pain cut through his mind like a fresh wound. It throbbed, paralyzing him for a moment before fading away.
The darkness on his right began to lighten, slowly at first and then imperceptibly like the first rays of dawn.
The tears turned joyful as he fell to his knees, mumbling “Sali, Sali, thank the all-light, Sali..”
Then he got to his feet, wiped his eyes and sheathed the blade.
The job was only half done; he’d commuted her sentence, but only temporarily.
He got to his feet, closed his eyes and pulled a glimmering knife from another spot on his belt.
He started slashing it in swooping arcs inches from his face, moving faster and faster until it was a blinding blur.
Now he had to find her.