Telepath

by Laurence Dahners

  Nylin knew where the Ragas kept a stash of loot from their raids. She tried to dig it up herself while Tarc wasn’t looking, but while she was at it he appeared behind her. Seeing her struggling, he dug the box up for her. He said nothing as Nylin turned her back on him and stuffed Rosyl’s knife and her few clothes into the box on top of the coins.

  She didn’t think he’d been fooled though.

  Grace collected some of the Ragas’ cookware and a few knives, wrapping them in her bundle of clothes and slinging them over a shoulder. Then they had a brief impasse when Grace wanted to strike off on her own into the woods, unwilling to follow any paths the Ragas might be returning on. Especially not the path to where the stranger claimed Farlin was waiting. That was the one the Ragas had left on and so it was the one they’d be expected to return on.

  The stranger simply shrugged and said, “Okay. You’re a free person. Do whatever you want, though I don’t think it’s wise for a young woman to travel through the forest alone.” He kicked dirt over the fire.

  Suddenly, they were in absolute darkness.

  Nylin realized the moon was down. The sky was overcast, blocking even starlight. In the total dark she felt terrified, suddenly realizing she not only didn’t know where Farlin was, but that she wouldn’t even be able to find the path that led to him.

  And, she certainly didn’t want to wait until dawn to leave this place. The Ragas’d be back before then.

  The stranger startled her by speaking, from less than a half meter away. He said, “Nylin, I’m going to put one end of a stick in your hand. I’ll use it to guide you along the path.”

  “You can see?” Nylin said unbelievingly.

  “Yes,” was all he said. The end of a stick settled unerringly into her palm.

  “Okay,” she said, then turned. “Grace, are you sure you don’t want to come with us?”

  Sounding frightened, Grace’s voice said, “Yes. But it’s so dark I can’t even find you.”

  The man said, “Take one step ahead and two steps to your left.” After a moment, he said, “Now reach out with your left hand and you’ll find Nylin… Reach a little farther…”

  Nylin felt something touch her blouse, then take a grip on it. Grace whispered, “Nylin, is this you?”

  Nylin said, “Yes,” but then she felt a tug on the stick. She followed it.

  After they’d been walking a minute or so, the man said, “Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Tarc.”

  Nylin said softly, “Thank you for coming to get us.” Then she wondered if she’d actually be grateful tomorrow. It seemed like forever since anyone had done something nice for her. And even longer since anyone had done such a thing for nothing. What’s the payback going to be this time? she wondered.

  Grace stayed silent.

  They walked, stumbling frequently on things they couldn’t see, even though Tarc slowed and warned them when they came to large roots or stones. It seemed much further than 150 meters, but eventually they began to see the glow of a lantern. As they got closer, though he was poorly lit, Nylin recognized her brother sitting on a log. “Farlin!” She called quietly.

  “Nylin!” he croaked, lifting the lantern with his left hand and turning its shade their direction.

  Nylin rushed toward him, but he adroitly dodged her oncoming clasp, “Careful, my arm’s broken.”

  ***

  Lizeth was taking her turn on watch. The moon had come up, lighting up the clouds overhead and casting everything in an eerie glow. Much nicer than the total darkness earlier in the night.

  She started out on a circuit of their camp, then stopped up short. The young bandit from the Ragas had two girls sleeping next to the wagon wheel he rested against.

  She stepped closer. The light was good enough to confirm they were strangers. She shook her head and gave a soft snort, Must be the kid’s sister and the other girl the Ragas were holding captive. She rolled her eyes. A rescue that smells like Tarc, she thought. Who else would sit there nodding while we all discussed the fact that we can’t help everyone, and especially can’t help the dregs of a band of bandits, then get up in the middle of the night and go get them anyway?

  She quirked a smile, Who else would think he could do such a thing by himself?

  Shaking her head, Lizeth continued on her circuit. In the morning, I’ll bet he tries to pretend he has no idea how those girls got here.

  ~~~

  I would’ve won that bet, Lizeth thought to herself in the morning.

  When the group started getting up the presence of the girls had been met with consternation.

  Daum and the Ropers were dismayed.

  Eva seemed briefly unhappy, but then said with stern resolve, “Taking them in’s the right thing to do.”

  Kazy spent a few minutes with them. Then, in her typical credulous fashion, immediately decided the two girls were innocent victims of the Ragas—just as they portrayed themselves.

  Daussie agreed with Kazy.

  Tarc sat blandly through the turmoil, a hint of a smile occasionally showing at a corner of his mouth. When Lizeth got him off to the side and asked him, he said, “I’m pretty sure Farlin just went and got them.” He jerked his head at Farlin, “Ask him. That’s what he’ll tell you and I think it’s true.”

  Lizeth wasn’t sure whether she was infuriated by, or insufferably proud of him. She let out a meaningless growl and stomped away.

  As the Hyllises prepared the morning’s food, the two girls, doubtless coached by Kazy, pitched in to help wherever they could.

  Lizeth rolled her eyes, In a little while they’ll have ingratiated themselves enough that no one’ll feel comfortable making them leave.

  Chapter Three

  It was midday when Tarc looked ahead to see the wagon bumping off the left side of the road. Glancing to the right he saw the walls of a small town. Sending his ghost out behind himself to check one more time for followers, he started his horse trotting forward. Maybe the caravan’ll still be here, he thought hopefully.

  The pressure of being by themselves on the road was wearing on everyone.

  ~~~

  Arco looked around at an excited murmur. He saw the Hyllis’s wagon coming off the road and turning toward the rest of the caravan. Lizeth was almost to him, mounted on one of the guards’ horses. He recognized it as one of the horses she’d talked him into letting her take into Realth.

  She’d hoped to rescue the Ropers and Eva Hyllis.

  Arco’d been worried that he’d not only lost his best guard but four of the guards’ horses.

  A glance toward the Hyllis wagon showed him some of the Hyllis party walking alongside it. He felt relieved when he could tell there were some horses trailing behind the wagon. He frowned as the wagon turned a little and five horses became visible—which, counting the two that Lizeth and Daum were mounted on was more than they’d left with—why would they buy another horse? he wondered.

  Lizeth arrived in front of him and he turned his attention to her. She braced his forearm and grinned, “Got ’em out of Realth as I promised. Thanks for letting me borrow the horses.”

  Arco snorted, “You probably caused so much of a ruckus they let Eva and the Ropers go just to get you to leave.”

  She grinned again, “You’re probably right.” Her face turned serious, “Believe it or not, someone killed the king the night we were getting the Ropers out of the palace. There was so much confusion about the succession that we didn’t have any trouble getting out the gate the next day.”

  Arco glanced toward the wagon again and his eyes widened. Now that it’d turned more fully to the side, he could see a long string of horses following it. He turned back to Lizeth, “What the hell are you guys doing with so many horses?”

  She shrugged and gave him a little grin, “I knew you wouldn’t be worried about me. But I thought you’d probably be frantic about the horses I took with me. I decided I’d better bring some extras when I came back to the caravan.”

  Arco sh
ook his head as if to clear it, then gave her a doubtful look, “What?”

  She looked back over her shoulder, then turned back to him, “Actually, some bandits waylaid us. Sadly for them, we had Daum with us. He started shooting and after he dropped several of them, the rest ran away like the devil itself was behind them. They had a string of horses tied up in the woods nearby, so we helped ourselves.”

  ~~~

  Tarc looked up from chocking a wheel on the wagon to see Lizeth riding up. She quickly gathered the Hyllises and Ropers together, then said, “We’ve got to have our story straight. When I was trying to explain why we had so many horses to Arco, I suddenly realized no one was going to believe what really happened—with it being in the dark and so many of them. So, what I told him was…”

  To Tarc’s surprise, everyone simply nodded along and agreed to the story Lizeth had given Arco. Henry Roper said, “I don’t know why he wouldn’t believe we chased those guys off, but it doesn’t make any difference to me.”

  Tarc realized Henry probably didn’t really understand what’d actually happened that night. He hadn’t seen the bodies, so he didn’t understand how many Ragas there’d been.

  ~~~

  Tarc started into the town, Clancy Vail, to get supplies for cooking dinner before they even had the wagon settled. He’d asked Roper whether he needed to be worried about anything like the extensive list of rules they’d faced in Realth.

  Roper said no. He’d wanted to come along and show Tarc some of the antiquities shops, but Tarc had begged off until tomorrow. Their supplies were low and he needed to get back with enough for the Hyllises to cook a dinner for the caravan.

  In town, it was a relief not to have to worry that the local deputies were just looking for an excuse to arrest him.

  After asking for directions a few times, Tarc found the farmers’ market where he bought flour and produce. Then a butcher where he got bacon, chicken, and spicy sausage. He found a substantial round of cheese, then decided Brownie was laden with about as much as he should put on her.

  Back at the caravan grounds, Tarc found Daum had already visited the wood seller. Daussie and Nylin were setting up the Hyllis’s booth at the caravan market while Kazy and Grace helped Eva start cooking. Farlin was trying to help Daussie too but was essentially useless with his broken arm. Though Tarc thought Nylin’s dark eyes and silky dark hair were very pretty, she seemed shy, always averting her eyes around Tarc.

  Tarc went to check on their newly enlarged string of horses. Daum had turned them out into a pasture for a fee. From the boy who managed the pasture, Tarc learned the fee for sixteen horses and six mules was substantial. It cost enough that Tarc realized they’d have to sell most of the horses as soon as they could find buyers. He did wonder whether they could keep a couple of the new horses so all four Hyllises could ride at the same time if needed.

  On the way back he checked in at the booth. As he walked up to it, he was pleased to see that they’d uncovered the part of their sign that said, “Healers.”

  When he arrived, Daussie and Nylin were cooing over a little girl. It annoyed him that they were wasting time instead of working, but he knew better than to complain about the girls’ penchants for babies.

  Then Daussie looked up and saw him. Looking worried, she said, “Tarc, this little girl’s been sick since she was born. Her mom says she was little when she was born and hasn’t grown as much as her sister did.” Daussie waved a hand at what appeared to be a bigger sister standing behind the one that looked sick. “She doesn’t eat very well, but the biggest problem is that she’s always short of breath. Do you think it’s her lungs?”

  Tarc looked up at the sign on their partially set up booth. It had to have just gone up, “How did she even know there were going to be some healers here?”

  Daussie shrugged, “She says she asks for healers at every caravan. She came by and asked around yesterday. Apparently, someone said we were supposed to rejoin the caravan soon so she came back today to see if we were here.”

  Tarc felt disconcerted. Daussie’s read a lot farther into mom’s medical books than I have. Why’s she asking me? He gave his sister a suspicious look, Or, is she testing me like Mom does? Asking me questions she already knows the answers to?

  His eyes went to the child’s mother. She had the desperate look of other mothers he’d seen with sick children. Though he wanted to tell Daussie to ask Eva, he decided he should at least look at the child. He didn’t want to seem dismissive of the girl’s problems.

  Squatting down, he smiled at the little girl. She looked about two years old but he thought she might be older. Her illness probably stunted her growth, he thought. Saying, “What’s your name?” he sent in his ghost.

  The little girl, sucking her thumb, shyly shook her head and looked away.

  Since she was holding still, Tarc didn’t try to talk to her anymore. Instead, he simply leaned closer, humming a lullaby.

  A moment later, Tarc leaned back and looked up into his sister's worried eyes. “I don’t know what it is. Do you?”

  Daussie shook her head. “Can you get Mom?”

  Tarc nodded and stood. As he walked away, he heard the girl’s mother say, “You can tell something’s wrong?”

  Daussie must’ve nodded, because then the mother said, “How can you tell? You’ve barely touched her.”

  As Tarc continued walking, he wondered why people thought touching a child would tell a healer what was wrong. Of course, I’d imagine it also doesn’t make any sense to them for us to sit there—apparently doing nothing—while our ghost goes in.

  When he arrived, Eva, Kazy, and Grace were deep into making a dinner of salad and chicken stew. As soon as Eva saw his face, she said, “Trouble?”

  He rocked his palm. “A mother brought her sick little girl to our booth. Neither Daussie or I have any idea what’s wrong with her.”

  Eva wiped her hands as she looked around at their preparations. “Right now’s not a bad time for me to come have a look.” She turned to Kazy and gave her some directions regarding the stew, then asked Grace to chop the tomatoes a little smaller. Turning back to Tarc, she said, “Let’s go. Tell me what you saw while we’re walking.”

  “Saw? Or felt with my ghost?”

  “Both,” Eva said, then paused slightly. Tarc thought she’d considered adding, “you idiot,” after saying “both.” She glanced up at him, “You should be using every sense at your disposal.”

  “She looks sick. But not in a very specific way. I think she’s the right size for a two-year-old but might be more like three years old—”

  Eva interrupted in an appalled tone, “You didn’t even ask how old she was?” When he shook his head, she said, “How many times do I have to explain the importance of getting the patient’s history? Age, sex, where it hurts, how it hurts, how long it’s hurt, how bad it hurts, what makes it better, what makes it worse, whether anyone they know has the same problem…”

  Embarrassed, Tarc shrugged and said sullenly, “I don’t think it hurts.”

  Eva shook her head in frustration, “Well, go on.”

  “One weird thing is that her face is pink but her legs are faintly blue. I haven’t looked inside many children this age, so I compared her to her sister. I think the sister’s only a year or so older. Her lungs are… I don’t know how to describe it. The tissue of her lungs seems thick and wet compared to her sister’s. Her heart’s really different. The walls are a lot thicker. The rest of her organs seem pretty normal… Oh, and—even with my eyes—I can see her pulse in the little indentations behind her collarbones. I have no idea what that means.”

  He looked over at his mother and found her contemplating him. She said, “What do you think’s wrong?”

  Tarc shrugged, “Daussie thinks something’s wrong with her lungs.”

  “And what do you think?”

  Frustrated, Tarc said, “If we knew, we wouldn’t have to come to get you?”

  Eva gave a long-suffering sigh.
“Yes, you would. Should. As long as I’m around you should take advantage of my knowledge. Even if you think you know what’s wrong, it’s always a good idea to get another opinion if you can.” She paused, “Tarc, I’m not asking you these questions to be mean. I’m just trying to get you to think. When you see someone who’s sick and you’re not sure what it is, you should try to think of several possibilities. Then, you do whatever you can to sort out which of those possibilities it might be.”

  They’d arrived back at the booth and Daussie heard this last. She said, “Her mother says Susie’s biggest problem is that she’s not breathing well. It seems like the problem has to be with her lungs. I think her lung tissue seems kind of thick and wet, a little bit like pneumonia. But, when we took care of the man from Realth with pneumonia, some parts of his lungs were really bad while other parts were nearly normal. In Susie, all of her lung tissue seems to be… a little bit sick… I don’t know what could cause that.”