They have installed Daian in one of Xia Tower’s disused servant’s quarters, just up the steps from the entrance hall. Lexi and Taru stripped him of his uniform, baldric, and other tools. Lexi did her best to wash and stitch Daian’s tunic, hoping he’ll eventually need it again. It was too dangerous to summon a surgeon, so Taru did their best to field treat the Aegin’s wound, cleaning and sewing and wrapping his torso in fresh bandages that both Lexi and the retainer have taken turns changing twice a day.

He hasn’t opened his eyes since the night he scaled the tower and toppled down its steps with half the blood drained from his body. Taru still insists it was only by the grace of a force beyond the retainer’s reckoning that they were able to keep his heart beating. Taru also insists that if he remains unconscious any longer they risk him never opening his eyes again.

“What are you going to do?” Lexi asks.

“As little as possible.”

“I don’t find that particularly comforting, Taru.”

“Forgive me, Te-Gen, but I very seriously doubt anything that is about to happen in this room will be comforting. That is why I invited you—”

“I’m fine. I simply want to know what to expect.”

“As do I,” Taru mutters almost inaudibly.

“What was that?”

The retainer shakes their head. “Nothing, Te-Gen.”

Lexi frowns as Taru sits on the edge of Daian’s sickbed, placing the basket between his motionless ankles. Taru removes a small stone well the size of their palm. It is tamped with a balled-up bit of cloth. The moment Taru removes that piece of cloth Lexi finds herself backing away toward the wall. She throws a hand over her mouth and nose to prevent her retching.

“What is that?” she demands.

“Many different substances that together have no single name.”

“Why is it that I can both smell and taste it from here?”

“Execution,” Taru answers simply.

The retainer passes the well under Daian’s nose. The nostrils of the unconscious Aegin flare and quiver, driven by his body’s natural senses. Taru continues waving the foulness back and forth, and a moment later Daian’s head turns to one side to avoid the unbearable smell.

Lexi steps forward excitedly. “Is he—”

“Not yet, Te-Gen. A moment, please.”

Taru chases the well after Daian’s nostrils, continuing the smell’s assault on them. His head spasms again, and his closed eyelids begin trembling. Daian’s lips part, and his breathing intensifies. It appears as though his eyes are trying to flutter open, but it is as though his eyelids are straining against a great weight they cannot overcome.

Eventually Taru relents with a sigh, taking away the well.

Lexi deflates. “I thought you had him.”

“That was only the initial volley,” Taru explains. “The attack has yet to commence.”