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It was like assaulting a fortress of gibbering madmen. They had armored themselves with pots, pans, and silverware from the kitchen. They wore the uniforms of the orderlies and medical staff. One wore the spoons of the Cracker as their helmet.

Dondon took point, joined by Sandro when the two of them could walk abreast. When they passed a door, the entire group stopped until the office was “cleared”.

Hagon, Raevik, and Vatmor took turns cleaning up the spills as the inmates died.

Yes, all of them, every one we ran across.

“You find this disturbing?” Raevik asked the first time Dondon broke one while they cowered.

“Do you not?” I asked.

“No bit of Taint can escape this place.” he replied. “We are monsters now, so that we can prevent worse monsters from awakening later.”

The process was not quiet; it was not fast; it was not so one-sided as one might think.

.....

“I had thought,” Hagon said, “that we might need you to navigate once we were inside.”

Miltor chimed in. “I was also expecting a maze, not... this. It is like unto a gauntlet, but without the traps and obstacles.”

Raevik set a hand upon his chin. “All is not well; I sense activity from past that wall.”

“We’ll be hanging a right and then another right.” I said. “The node itself is in the common room, which has four sleeping areas off to either side.”

“Like a barracks?” Milton asked.

“A spartan one, yes.” I said.

“That is where anyone sane would hold their dearest troops.” Hagon said.

“This we know.” Raevik said. “That is where our mana will be dearest spent.”

“How are we doing on numbers?” Sandro asked. “How many are left?”

“I’ve counted nine of the possibly three dozen we can expect...” I said.

As we rounded the corner, the carnage was evident.

I’m not sure who they had put into the Cracker; they had no head; from the body type and shape, it had been one of the orderlies. From the kitchen to the common room, the floor was slick with black blood and parts of bodies.

“It seems that we can knock at least eight off my estimate of who’s remaining.” I said.

“And there’s the dozen the Protectors have in custody.” Hagon said. “That leaves...”

Three. It left three.

It left the chessmaster, poop-flinging woman, and the armless elder, now with a pair of arms hanging from his belt. I wonder, some nights, what happened to Jax.

I don’t have to wonder about the dame doctor, pieces of her and the two nurses decorated the floor, black and red blood splashed upon the walls and ceiling in... patterns. I won’t dignify their profane runes with names and descriptions, but I recognized them from my time among the Norvik.

“Beware!” I shouted, “There are runes.”

“I see them.” Raevik said. “Witch Fire!”

“Cleanse Stone!” shouted Sandro.

“Nature Abhors Taint.” shouted Hagon.

“Anti-Taint Ward!” I cast, not waiting for the Madness to act.

“No, not yet!” screamed Hagon, kicking at my line of silver-salt-chalk, disrupting my spell.

Remember how I said magic hates you? Never to lose control of it?

Both of my kidneys exploded out either side of my torso, squishing to liquids as they passed through the chainmail.

[Your pain threshold exceeds...]

“Hyuuung...” I grunted, falling to my knees and then onto my left side.

[Severe Injury] warnings began scrolling across my vision.

Again, don’t lose both kidneys at the same time if you can help it.

Vatmor was there, long enough to apologize for being needed elsewhere.

Fool that I was, I almost summoned Miko Light. I know, I know, that WOULD have been bad.

I reached out to a bench, and found myself unable to stand. “Prepare yourselves!” someone screamed, “The waves begin!”

If it were possible to vomit blood from both sides, that was what I was busy doing for the next bit of fighting. I managed to pull myself onto a bloodied bench to keep my blood separate from what was already on the floor.

I was [Dizzy], [Anemic], and of all things, [Malnourished] through the ritual they conducted to seal the Madness under the floor. Which, yes, I had been looking forward to learning from.

I am told that I screamed when they lifted me to assist me outside; I don’t remember it, but neither do I doubt it.

At least we were in the edge of the medical area. Escamology experts are rare in dwarven culture, but not so rare that Othello did not have one. A veterinarian, by trade, but still better than nothing.

“What in the seven hells did you do to this reptilian?” Pembron (the specialist in question) asked.

“Magical backlash.” Sandro said.

“Kidneys.” I grunted. “Gone.”

“No, you’d be unconscious from the sheer pain.” Pembron said. “But, let me pour this acid in to counter the septic chemicals escaping from your intestines.

Yes, that’s an actual treatment. The stomach, you see, is acidic, but the intestines themselves are alkaline, the chemical opposite of acid.

“Oh my.” he said. “You have no kidneys. You’re doomed, I’m afraid.”

“Can you sew together the intestines?”

“Well, no, that won’t help you, I’m afraid. The toxic shock alone...”

I reached out, grabbed his face and held it close to mine. “I’ve lived through this before. Cut me open, cut away the damaged pieces of intestine, and stitch the ends back together.”

“You don’t understand.” he explained. “It’s not just chemicals. All manner of diseases are even now running rampant in your abdomen.”

Diseases. Right. He meant the ones that live inside the intestines, for the digestion of food. I tapped the environment, curing one person’s bird of Avian Pox and a lizard from Filth Fever (honestly, people needed to wash their pets; basic hygiene prevents a lot of those, and makes mild cases that could have been much worse.

“Reduce Disease.” I cast upon myself, nearly passing out in so doing.

“Amazing.” he said.

“The technical term for what you are doing,” I told him, “is nothing.

“No, I mean I’m not a surgeon!” he shouted at me. “I can’t save you, and any time I spend trying is wasted!”

“Fine.” I said. “Get me to a leather-worker in the Artisan’s Quarter. They should be able to do this.”

I’d been hoping to shame Pembron into doing the deed himself, but he actually held the door for us. A young woman called Doronu didn’t initially want to perform the surgery, either. I don’t know what Raevik whispered into her ear, but I heard her saying that she was making me into a cloak and boots when I inevitably died.

Obviously, no such dying happened. I did awaken later that week on my back, in pain, and with enough severe injuries that I tried to just lay there, flexing my feet and toes to restore circulation. None of the inquisitors were present to mock me while I did so.

I found a plate of half-eaten food near my pillow and nearly tore my wounds open rolling over to reach it. I was devouring what was left when a small boy leaned around the opening.

“Oh.” he said. “I see they weren’t joking.” There were some scuffling noises, and he dragged in a fifty pound bag of mixed onions, greens, carrots, and potatoes.

“More.” I said. “I’ll need more.”

“Well, how much more?” the lad asked.

Forget infused, they hadn’t even been properly cleaned or cared for. Each serving was only two of the expected three nutrition.

“Two more bags.” I decided, doing rough math. “Three bags like this a day should sustain me.”

He ground his feet.

“What is the matter?” I asked him.

“Well, sir, it’s just that the people who sell food like that... I don’t think they have that much food, sir. Even if they did, I don’t have the money...”

It’s amazing how much stress is involved just in passing along the contact information for your coinkeepers and a list of groceries from the minotaur markets could be. With assurances that he could pay up to five friends to help him carry groceries, he was off.

Other than passing into and out of consciousness, I recited all the synonyms I knew for stupid, reckless, and asshole in all the languages I knew.

Not for Hagon, although he had danced through my dreams kicking ward-dust into my face. It had been my magic, and thus my job to keep it under control. And I had known better than to rush a powerful and intricate ward the way I had.

By the time six youths returned bearing sacks of food, I had devoured all the food from the first bag, to include the bag itself. Some of the eggs had cracked in the delivery, but they did bring roasted meats and hard orange cheeses, flattened oat cakes, and not a single sugar cookie or hard candy.

Children, it seems, are children, regardless of species.

Given the wealth of food they provided, I was willing to let the missing items go without question.

They were all gone by the time the inquisitors returned.

.....