“Thank you,” Cainan said, immediately locating the treasure that was included amongst the tasteless fare. A single, hard-boiled egg. He shoved the whole thing in his mouth, releasing a sigh of contentment as he struggled to chew it, not caring one wit that it was neither salted nor peppered. “I think that’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” he said when he finally managed to swallow it all down.

Mick chuckled. “Glad ye liked it. There’s somethin’ else.”

Cainan hadn’t wanted to ask about the request he’d made, because for several long months the answer had always disappointed. But not this time. “You found it?”

“Aye, but it was bloody hard to find. Must be the only damn copy in existence. Felt mighty uncomfortable in that shop you suggested I try. The owner had a disembodied head in a jar! A jar, fer the Sculptor’s sake!” He said it as though the jar aspect of the experience had been the most troubling part, not the decapitated head. “Here you are.” Something hard and rectangular slid through the slot. A book.

Cainan accepted it greedily, feeling the first real thrill he’d felt in a long time. His fingers traced the title as he read it. “The Origins of the Blood Tide by Luxor Glin, First Edition.” It felt like an old friend.

An old friend who had ruined his life with the truths contained within its pages.

“Was lucky to sneak it in without a hitch,” Mick said. “The boss was unusually distracted today.”

The ‘boss’ was Captain Chivrin Harper. While not a cruel man like some of the vicious guards he was charged with keeping in line, he was a stickler for the rules, which most definitely did not allow prisoners the luxury of hard-boiled eggs. “Thank you all the same. May I ask what was distracting him?” As they spoke, Cainan continued eating as quickly as he could, though the rest of the food was bland and provided him with no pleasure other than to lessen the ache in his belly.

“This is jest between ye and me, alright? If ye try to tell anyone else I told ye, I’ll deny it, understood?”

“Who am I going to tell, Mick?”

“Just swear it.”

“I swear it.”

“On what?”

“On that delicious hard-boiled egg I just ate.”

“Very funny, but that’ll do, I s’pose. Look, there’s been another attack.”

“You mean the forest?”

“Yup. I swear on my newborn child’s wailin’ lips. Vines snappin’ out at the guard towers. Branches flingin’ pinecones and other foliage. Thorny bushes creepin’ up Comman Dur’s walls overnight. It took the better part of two days to clear it all out, and we were only able to do it then because the damn stuff finally stopped growin’.”

“What stopped it?”

He couldn’t see the man shrug but could sense the gesture in his voice. “Who the void knows? One second everythin’ was growin’ all out of control like, and the next it just…wasn’t. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed it.”