Healer's Touch

by Deb E Howell

  Llew knelt between Jonas and Cassidy, her trouser legs pulled up so her bare shins sunk into the cool, damp forest undergrowth. She sent Alvaro to help Hisham patch up his shoulder on the road, fearful she might drain them if they stood too close, and then she gathered up a limp wrist in each hand. So far, when she’d healed herself or others it had just happened. This time, it had to be different. She couldn’t afford, and Turhmos couldn’t afford, for her simply to let things happen. Healing two at once was an enormous risk, but she didn’t want to chance the life of one over the other. If either failed to recover, it had to be because it simply wasn’t possible, not because Llew made the wrong choice.

  She hoped she hadn’t already made it.

  With all her might, she concentrated on not healing. She held both men’s wrists and nothing was happening. She told herself it was because she was succeeding, and not because she was already too late. She couldn’t be too late.

  She opened the imaginary flood-gate just a fraction, and she felt it. Both hands tingled, and so did her shins. She accepted the success, but didn’t allow herself a celebration, for they weren’t back, yet. Slowly the tingling spread up her arms and along her legs and through her core. Her heart hammered under the effort, but it didn’t falter, and a warmth settled in her belly. Eyes closed, one part of Llew’s brain was totally focused on the rate of the ghi flowing through her, while another part concentrated on the feel of the wrists in her hands, sensitive to the slightest change, waiting for a pulse . . . or two.

  Sweat sprang to her brow, and between her breasts and thighs. She clenched her teeth against the strain. She wouldn’t open the gates; she wouldn’t. It was working, but it couldn’t work too well.

  She puffed under the exertion, and then re-doubled her effort. It was too hard, and maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if she relaxed for just a moment: the ghi would flow, jump-starting their hearts, and then she could just let go. As she relaxed her will, her fingers dug into their wrists. It was involuntary; she had no control.

  She felt as though she were floating, yet she could still feel the ground beneath her legs. Her vision filled with light, though her eyes were closed. Ghi rushed through her, and she felt it firing through her shins, up her body, more shooting down the arm that held Jonas’ wrist than the one that held Cassidy’s. She’d never channelled so much before. Not only was Jonas Syakaran, but while Cassidy had the one wound in his chest to heal from, Jonas had the chest wound, a gut wound and a multitude of lacerations, bruises and who knew what else under the surface. Llew struggled to believe she could heal so much damage. But the ghi flowed through her and into both men. She was merely a channel.

  She was knocked forward, her grip broken, and she collapsed to the ground, vaguely aware of Hisham’s momentum carrying him past her. She lay on the ground with ghi still trickling across her skin.

  She sat up to see Hisham crouched between her patients, wrists gripped between his fingers. There was a slight smile on his lips.

  “They’re breathing,” he said.

  Llew let out her breath.

  “They have pulses.” Hisham beamed. “You did it.”

  “She saved them?” Alvaro approached cautiously.

  The ground around them was dead as far as Llew could see. She looked up into the leaves of the trees above and her face fell. After touching the white tree, and feeling its immense power, it saddened her to drain trees. She had an understanding, now. They could be huge and ancient, but they only contained a thin layer of life within. Merely bringing life back to Jonas and Cassidy had cost several – eight, maybe ten – trees, as well as the ground cover around them.

  “They’re alive,” said Hisham, watching Llew.

  He was right. In that moment, there was nothing more than the fact that Cassidy and Jonas lived.

  “What’s wrong with them?” asked Alvaro.

  “I said they’re alive. Llew brought them back,” said Hisham. “Now we have to find this tree of hers.”

  Llew stared at him for a moment, then back up to the trees around them, realising what she could be risking. What if the tree couldn’t do it? It, too, only had a thin layer of life within. Could it bring back a Syakaran? She swallowed and nodded.

  Hisham took over, directing Alvaro to move Cassidy back to the road, then helping Llew up and aiding her as she dragged Jonas. Then he and Alvaro set about making pallets from newly dead branches and the patients’ own bedrolls. Llew cleaned Jonas’ and Cassidy’s wounds as best she could and tied strips of material the boys had brought with them around her patients’ chests, wishing she had the first aid provisions Emylia had thought to bring on their journey from Cheer. Blood seeped through both bindings within seconds.

  Standing from her ministrations, she looked down the road.

  “Where’d he go?”

  “Who?” Hisham came up beside her. “Oh.”

  Braph’s body was gone. Only a dark smear of blood indicated where he’d lain.

  “He’s not dead,” said Llew, despair and disbelief jostling for attention. “And he’s got Jonas’ knife.”

  Hisham put an arm around her shoulders. “He had it for years and never gave it to Turhmos.” Before Llew could ask why Braph would hand his family’s knife to Turhmos, Hisham gave her a squeeze. “But Jonas is alive, for now.” He smiled at her. “Don’t let Braph make you lose sight of that.” Llew gave him a small, grateful smile in return. “And Braph’s got to heal yet,” Hisham continued. “His magic’s based on yours, and you stabbed him with a Syakaran knife. I don’t know what that means for him,” he admitted, “but if anything is gonna slow him down, it’d be that.”

  They pulled the injured onto the pallets, which they hitched through the stirrups of Jonas’ and Cassidy’s horses. Finally the group was on the move.

  They stopped regularly to check on their patients. Cassidy tried to die on them once. He wasn’t hard to revive, though he wasn’t quiet about the process either. Jonas remained stable, but unconscious.

  They hadn’t begun the return journey until dusk and they couldn’t travel at the speeds she had been running. It frustrated Llew to have to stop for the evening, but they were all exhausted and Hisham convinced her that Cassidy and Jonas needed real rest to do some healing on their own. Once again she was reminded that people survived without her gift all the time. They would be fine.

  Though hungry, no one could eat. The evening was cold, and Cassidy’s and Jonas’ best chance lay in them being kept warm. They changed the bandages and Hisham helped Llew fit Jonas into her bedroll beside her, and then helped Alvaro with Cassidy before climbing into his own.

  With Jonas being both unconscious and fully clothed to prevent Llew accidentally being drained by him over night, there was a strange disconnect in being so close to him without touching him. Llew comforted herself by listening to his steady breathing, and soon she was asleep with the man she loved in her arms.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  A groaning, moaning and, now and then, muttering, dragged Llew from her sleep. Jonas! Her eyes shot open and she fought to free herself from her bedding, a task made more difficult by his being in there with her.

  In the cold light of dawn, Jonas glistened with sweat. Llew put a hand to his brow: he was boiling. No wonder she’d been so warm wrapped up against him.

  Hisham kicked his way from his own bedroll and rushed over.

  “What is it?”

  “He’s burning up.”

  With the bedroll open, Jonas trembled and his teeth chattered.

  “He’s got a fever,” said Hisham. “He’s fightin’ something.” He pulled open Jonas’ shirt and unwrapped the bandages. The skin underneath was red, and the wounds oozed.

  “Llew?”

  Alvaro went unheard as the urge to vomit overcame Llew. She scurried away on hands and knees to retch. Her body heaved, but she had nothing to satisfy her need to purge her stomach.

  “Llew. I think Cassidy’s . . . You gotta bring him back again.”

&n
bsp; Her sickness suddenly gone, Llew rushed to Cassidy’s side. Still bundled with Alvaro in his cousin’s bedroll, he was blue. She reached out to him, and he was cold to the touch.

  “Help him, Llew. Please.”

  Hisham bundled Jonas back in Llew’s bedroll and joined them. His expression, when he saw Cassidy, confirmed Llew’s gut reaction. Still, she had to try, didn’t she? Hisham held her gaze for a moment, unable to answer her unasked question. She took up Cassidy’s hand and without even trying to control her magic she felt nothing. She couldn’t look at Alvaro.

  “Llew . . . ?”

  She squeezed her eyes shut. The tears weren’t coming yet. This was Cassidy, funny, sweet, brave Cassidy. She clung to his hand, and still felt nothing but the cold dryness of his fingers. She had to tell Alvaro she couldn’t do it; she couldn’t even do that.

  “He’s gone,” said Hisham. Llew felt his hand on her shoulder and let her eyes relax with the relief that he’d stepped in.

  “No! Llew can heal him. She’s done it before.”

  “He must’ve passed in the night. It’s been too long,” said Hisham, his voice steady, sure, and calm.

  “No!” In an attempt to give more power to his words, Alvaro tried to stand, but he was still tangled in the bedroll beside his cousin’s body. He fought his way free. Cassidy rolled unceremoniously from the bedding and Alvaro shook the last bunches from himself. “Do it, Llew. You have to.”

  Llew hadn’t let go of Cassidy’s hand. She shook her head and the first tears rimmed her eyes. She still couldn’t look at Alvaro. She could picture the anger and confusion on his face; he wasn’t one to hide emotions. She should have woken in the night to check on Cassidy. They should have all slept closer.

  Jonas groaned.

  “Of course he survived.” That made Llew look, to see Alvaro sneering at Jonas. “You couldn’t afford to waste too much of your power on Cassidy. Not at a cost to him.”

  “It don’t work that way–” Hisham stood up as Alvaro headed for Jonas. “Al. Don’t do it.”

  Hisham could have stopped him. That he didn’t only proved that he, along with Llew, didn’t believe Alvaro would actually kick Jonas. Yet he did. Jonas moaned and muttered something before falling silent again, his breathing fast and shallow, sweat dripping from him, and his body shuddering.

  Llew leapt up from Cassidy’s side. Hisham already had Alvaro in a tackle, and Alvaro kicked and twisted to get free. Hisham struggled with his shoulder wound, but he was naturally stronger, and that was enough.

  “He was my best friend, my brother! He doesn’t come second to your fuck!” Llew hadn’t thought Alvaro capable of so much anger. “I’ll never forgive you.” At last he stopped struggling against Hisham. “Let go.” His tone was flat and emotionless.

  Hisham released him.

  Alvaro went to his horse, tightened the girth, released the hobbles and swung aboard.

  “Al, we need you.” Llew gripped a rein, but Alvaro yanked it free, his horse throwing its head up at the mistreatment.

  “Cassidy and I came to your rescue just as much as he did. And it weren’t us put you in any danger in the first place. You should’ve saved him, Llew. You didn’t. You should’ve saved him.”

  He turned his horse, kicked it to a gallop and disappeared down the road back to Brurun.

  Llew stared after him for a long while, then she turned back to where Hisham was checking on Jonas. But feeling his temperature and looking at the infected flesh wasn’t going to make him better. They didn’t have any more bandages, and they had no way to deal with the fever.

  “Let’s go,” she said and began bundling up Alvaro’s bedroll – he would have several cold nights on his way back – and then Hisham helped her hitch Cassidy and Jonas on their pallets behind their horses. “He deserves to be farewelled by those who loved him,” she said when Hisham questioned whether they should just bury Cassidy. Besides, they didn’t have the means to do a good job, and Llew wasn’t going to do Cassidy that kind of disservice. She’d had to leave her father to the carrion; she wouldn’t do it now with Cassidy.

  Their camp packed away, they headed out, Jonas crying loudly at every bump in the road. They pulled up each time he went silent. One of those times was nearly terminal, but Llew would be damned if she was going to lose him as well. To hell with Turhmos. She’d drain it all for one success. Of course she didn’t mean it, and she knew she couldn’t live with herself if she left a trail of dead children behind them. And neither could Jonas.

  At a cost to a few more trees, she brought Jonas back to a semi-conscious state.

  “Please, no more,” he muttered, his head rolling.

  “Shut up, you. You’re coming back with me.”

  They were nearing the white tree when a pair of Turhmos men approached from the other direction. Llew’s heart leapt into her throat. She couldn’t be captured, she just couldn’t. But while they might take her into custody, if they recognised Jonas they would certainly kill him. Again. She could heal him, but only if the soldiers didn’t take his body, and she suspected they would in the interests of proving their success.

  Hisham put on a relaxed demeanour as the men approached. He, too, would be in grave danger if they realised what he was. Kara didn’t enter Turhmos on peaceful missions.

  Llew jumped down from her horse and made a show of ministering to Jonas. She placed his hat so he could breathe, but otherwise covering his face. If he remained silent, they could pass both men off as dead, but in his feverish state there was no guarantee Jonas wouldn’t say something. In a moment of either sheer brilliance or stupidity, Llew tried something.

  She fished inside the bedroll and took Jonas’ hand, gripping it firmly, and then she did what she hoped she would never have to do again: she killed him.

  “This better work,” she muttered under her breath. And the men from Turhmos had better move on again quickly, or Jonas would be gone just like Cassidy.

  Looking at her hands in disbelief, Llew panicked that she’d just done something incredibly stupid; with the Turhmosians, who looked suspiciously like soldiers, right in front she couldn’t risk undoing it now. But she had just done something she’d never done before: she had drained without needing to heal. She hoped that meant she stored the ghi.

  At the realisation of what she’d done, with no notion of whether or not it could be undone, the tears rolling down her cheeks were genuine. She was surprised she had any left.

  Hisham explained to the men that Cassidy and Jonas worked on a family farm and a fatal accident had befallen them, so he and Llew were taking them to be buried in the family plot some miles down the way. One of the riders came to the back to observe the bodies. He dismounted beside Cassidy and touched him.

  “He’s cold,” he said.

  “Of course he’s cold. He’s dead.” Llew brushed the tears off one cheek, and stood defiant.

  The man lifted an eyebrow. “Sweethearts, were ya?”

  “Don’t be daft. He’s my br– cousin.” She’d almost said brother, but thought better of it, doubting she and Cassidy looked much alike.

  “Well . . . I know this one couple. They’re cousins. Married soon as she flowered, they did.” The man looked sly. In fact, he looked like he was eyeing Llew up.

  “He was my sweetheart.” She pointed back at Jonas. “And I’d like to mourn before I give my heart to another.”

  “I weren’t thinkin’ ’bout your heart.”

  “Heart. Bed. All the same, innit?” She folded her arms and scowled at the man, the power of her expression no doubt diminished by the trails of tears down her cheeks. His eyes narrowed and he stepped around Cassidy, past Llew, and in beside Jonas. He lifted the hat.

  Llew tried not to look worried, but she couldn’t control her eyes. They kept looking at the man, trying to see if he recognised the body, then flicking away to avoid him seeing her looking.

  He saw her looking. And he took another look at Jonas.

  Llew swallowed.


  “Come ’ere.” He motioned his companion over. “This one look familiar to you?”

  The other Turhmosian studied Jonas, raised his eyebrows, then pushed back the bedroll and pulled open Jonas’ shirt, revealing the top of the gryphon tattoo, and the festering hole in his chest.

  “You Syakaran?” the first one asked.

  “No,” Llew said, as though it was the most stupid suggestion she’d heard.

  “Karan?”

  “No.”

  “Then you ain’t his sweetheart, are ya? You brushing me off, aye? Without gettin’ to know me first?” His companion nudged him with an elbow. He was wasting time. “Is he dead?” Now, that was a stupid question.

  Llew nodded. And if you don’t hurry up, he’ll stay that way.

  “How?”

  “The magician Braph killed him in Brurun, but he had somewhere to be. I got family in Turhmos and was bringing my cousin back to be buried, so he asked me to bring the body to Duffirk as proof.”

  “He’s not cold,” said the second man.

  “He was killed by a magician. Don’t ask me what he did, or how it works. I’m just doing as I was told.” It was surprising how easily the lies flowed. She supposed telling a half-truth made it easier. “Braph wants him in Duffirk day after next.”

  “You’ re headed the wrong way.”

  “We’ve got to make another stop first. Another cousin, you know . . . ”

  “Then you better get a move on. We’re four days out of Duffirk.”

  “Then you better let us carry on then, hadn’t you? Braph is a powerful man. He can probably read our minds, find out who held us up.” She narrowed her eyes. Now, bugger off.

  The first man grew suspicious. “Hey, your man up front said they were both family.” He peered back at Hisham, and Llew panicked that he would see the similarity to Jonas.

  “’Course he did. You know how many people would try and take that body off us if they knew? Braph’s got plans for it. Needs to present it to the Turhmos King.”

  “President,” the second man corrected, eyes narrowing again.