Still tramping through this maze of tunnels. And with every corner we turn, I half expect to see the Basilod standing there just waiting to attack. But there is nothing here. Okay, so we found more chambers, but not the chamber Kanar suspects Gerridian is using as his home. Most of these chambers were empty. The fourth cavern still had some clothing and materials displayed around the walls. But if there was a skeleton there (and we suspect there was) it was removed. Probably recently. Kanar admitted earlier that he thinks these chambers are some kind of trophy rooms and that Gerridian was in the process of removing his trophies when we disturbed him.
A good theory, but why doesn’t Gerridian attack. I can’t figure it out. He created this place. He knows it intimately, yet he allows us to wander thorugh it unimpeded. That alone leaves me so suspicious I want to flee. Gerridian’s sly. I learned that much already. But this? Well, it’s inexplicable. I’ve been trying to convince myself that Gerridian’s afraid of us. But the more I think about it, the more ridiculous it sounds. True, this is a fake empire. But what power created it? Seemingly unlimited power, that’s what, power that might crush us easily.
Then again, Kanar’s also a sly one. I’m not entirely sure of the limits of his power either.
I gave him some Water of the Woods this morning. He was dubious at first when I told him I had it. But after taking one sniff of the bottle, his face lit up and he took three quick sips before handing it back to me. I told him to keep it. It’s not much good to me anyway. Then, just as I thought he was about to berate me for keeping the Water secret, I heard the most terrible crackling sound. His bones. That’s what it was. His bones were crackling like the muscles surrounding them were swelling out and making him look oddly taller and younger. When I asked him what was happening, he told me the Water was acting to massage away the fatigue resting in his flesh and that it enabled him to recycle that fatigue into something positive.
The way he spoke about the fatigue made him sound like it was a living thing that only someone like him could experience. I didn’t ask him about it. Right now, I don’t want to know.
Things are quiet at home. I don’t know what hold O’Heir has over the doctor, but he seems happy enough to stay a few days. He doesn’t question anything either. Or maybe O’Heir just says that to stop me worrying. Ha. How can I stop worrying? I don’t know exactly what happens a person who’s been in a coma for over a year, but I’d imagine their muscles soften up and their internal organs might need some encouragement to return to normal. She hasn’t eaten or drank anything for a year. How could I fail to be worried about that?