by Melissa Mead
"I'm not. I really don't know what the candles are for."
"They're ... prayers. They stand for things. Like emerald green for healing ... white for hope—or weddings..."
"And this?” Miska pointed to the indigo wax. Juliar came over to look.
"That was a mourning candle. Looks like most of it's still here.” He leaned over the bed and pried out a chunk, idly softening it in his hand. “I can get rid of the wax for you, and bring you something more cheerful."
"No. I would like one that color, please."
He dropped the lump of wax. “But that's only for when someone's died!"
"I would like one, please, Juliar. And two green ones.” Miska ran her fingers over the rough stone wall.
"Sure.” Juliar started to turn away, and then looked back. “Miska? Can I do something to help?"
"No. Yes.” She looked back at him. “Could I have another, very large candle? A white one?"
He stood a moment, watching her, his breath coming short. He looked as though he wanted to say something, or ask her something, but Miska couldn't quite tell what.
"Juliar? What is it?"
He brushed his hair away from his face; a quick gesture that hid his eyes.
"Nothing,” he said. “I'll be right back."
While he was gone, she sat on the narrow bed, feeling dislocated, unreal. She picked up the bit of blue wax, still warm from Juliar's hand, and toyed with it. Sunlight crept through the high window, touching the coverlet with pale gold fingerprints, twinkling off the wall. It looked so like the walls of some of the caverns, she could let herself imagine that somewhere behind it, Midyora was bandaging a cut finger while her little patient chewed on a dried mint leaf ... Avoca searched the Mirror for a sight of Kimo—and maybe herself ... Illyana cradled Little Cousin while Tanrin...
No. Tanrin was dead. Kimo was missing. She crushed the scrap of wax in her fist until her knuckles whitened, crumbled it to flakes, and tossed it away.
* * * *
Juliar was a long time returning. When he did come, his flushed face and halting gait told Miska he'd been trying to run. He tossed four candles and a squashy packet on the desk.
"Are you all right, Juliar?” she asked, sliding off the bed.
"Never mind me! I thought I'd bring you a snack, and there was ... Look out the window,” he panted. “No, you can't see from here. Go to the end of the hallway. That window's lower, anyway."
She went. A knot of people clamored in front of the main gate of the Temple, waving their fists. A few waved sticks. Miska couldn't make out their shouts.
"What are they saying?” Miska asked. Juliar came up behind her.
Juliar leaned against the sill. “It's crazy. They're yelling about Imps everywhere. I thought Kimo might have annoyed the wrong person, but this is strange. Do the Cantrips..."
"Kankenni,” Miska corrected.
"The Kankenni ... Do they have an army?"
"What's an army?"
Juliar's smile flashed, faded as he realized Miska was serious, and returned again, more warmly. “There are some things I could teach you about, then, but I don't want to.” He thought for a moment. “Do you have ... a group of Kankenni, who would go out to hurt people who have hurt you? To kill them?"
"What a horrible idea!"
"Isn't it? Well, the gang out there is saying there's a pack of Imps running loose. They say they're all smaller than humans ... a bit shorter than you, with yellow eyes. That's why I thought it had something to do with Kimo, at first. But they said these people all had war paint or something on their faces, and they're all armed with staves, with red ribbons on top."
"The P'raptoi!” Miska exclaimed.
"You do know what they're talking about, then? Are they Kankenni?"
"Yes! The ones that deal with Humans the most.” Miska practically danced with excitement. Abri was near, somewhere in the city!
"But what are they doing here?"
"Looking for Kimo, I assume. And me. I've never heard of such a thing. The Elders would never let anyone come here, where there are so many Humans. Even P'raptoi. Unless things were very, very bad."
She stopped short. Things were, indeed, very, very bad.
"I need to go help them!” She turned to run down the corridor, only to find Juliar blocking her way.
"Get out of the way, Juliar."
He shook his head. “Don't you go getting as crazy as that bunch out there. You go charging into the middle of that mob, and you'll spark off a panic."
"I'll find the P'raptoi, we'll find Kimo, and we'll leave. That's all."
"That's all,” Juliar snorted. “You may think no one's been looking for Kimo all this time, but they have. I've watched acolytes come back every night and complain to Vedi Sharanis that this ‘wild snipe chase’ is taking too much time from their studies. It's not that simple."
"But...” Miska tried to sidle around him. It would be easy to get past him ... if she were willing to knock him over as Kimo had. His set expression told her he knew that.
"Juliar...” she began.
He wasn't listening. Something outside the window had caught his attention.
"What does she think she's doing?” he muttered.
Miska turned. There was a carriage outside. Cream and blue. The mob pressed around it, and the chevrals tossed their heads and butted. Vedi Sharanis came out, with several young women in the yellow gowns of Temple Maids. They held back the crowd, allowing three people to pass through.
"Lindi!” Miska cried.
"And her aunt and uncle are practically carrying her.” Juliar looked grim. “You didn't give her your salad recipe, did you?"
They headed for the infirmary. Even before they got there, they could hear a murmur of voices, hushing, soothing. They could hear Lindi sobbing. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It hurt so much ... Where's Miska? Did those people hurt her? Did the Thorns get her? Where is she? Where's Miska?"
Miska and Juliar burst into the infirmary without knocking. Lindi, disheveled and shaking, huddled on the side of Miska's old cot, with her face in her hands. Miska sat down beside her.
"Lindi, what's wrong?"
The girl sat up with a jolt. She stared for a moment, and then flung herself on Miska.
"You're alive! I thought ... I thought it was all my fault ... I thought..."
"Hush. Softly.” Miska detached the girl's clinging hands. “What did you think was your fault?"
Lindi's breathing slowed. She looked around. Doria, Aldinan, Nurse Dannae, and Vedi Sharanis were all staring at her in alarm. A few curious Temple children hung in the outer doorway. Juliar carefully studied the various bottles on the nearby shelf.
"Nothing. I just got another of those headaches.” Miska frowned at her. “A really, really bad one."
"I can help you with that.” Nurse Dannae, looking puzzled but relieved, headed for the counter. Wordlessly, Juliar handed her a bottle of milky white liquid. The nurse nodded and poured a dose for Lindi, who swallowed, and made a bitter face.
"Yuck!"
Juliar had already poured a cup of mint-water.
"Yes, thank you, Juliar.” Nurse Dannae said. She gave the water to Lindi, and took the empty medicine cup. “Now, Miss Salera, that drink will help your headache, but it will also make you a bit sleepy. You may sit and talk quietly with Miska for a while, but if you feel dizzy, lie down."
"Let Juliar stay too,” said Lindi softly.
The nurse looked surprised. Juliar looked carefully blank.
"That's very ... Well, all right. I have some work to do, so I'll be right over there if you need me."
"Can't ... Don't you need to be somewhere else?” Lindi asked.
"I doubt I'll disturb you. I'm used to not waking patients.” Nurse Dannae headed for the far side of the infirmary. “If I am too loud, just say so."
"It's not her talking I'm worried about. It's her listening,” Lindi muttered under her breath. She snuffled. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset everyone. I d
id have a headache. You know the kind I mean, Miska."
"These headaches weren't from, say, another bad batch of salad?” said Juliar.
"Oh no! Although maybe radishes would help?” Lindi looked sideways at Miska.
"More likely, they'd make you worse.” Miska jumped up, and paced a few steps. “Are these the same ‘headaches’ you had before, where you see little bright spots?"
"Oh yes. I've never seen so many little bright spots. Uncooperative little bright spots. Wouldn't do a thing I asked them to."
"Did you try the things I taught you?"
"Every single one. If anything, it got worse. I even tried making up things."
Miska looked quickly at Nurse Dannae. She was rummaging in a drawer by the farthest wall. “You didn't try to Worldwalk, by yourself!"
"No! Well, not really."
"Not really? Lindi, what did you do?"
Lindi squirmed. “Well, I remembered you said it was easy to make jewels, so I thought I'd try that, to stop the headaches. I picked up a rock, then I gathered Motes, just like you showed me."
"Like you did in the Prayer Room, Miska,” Juliar commented. He leaned forward, fascinated.
"Yes. Lindi's learning. But let her finish."
"I gathered lots of Motes-more than I ever did before. But when I tried to get them to change the rock, everything ... shifted. I wasn't in the Second World, not quite. But everything looked faded, and there were three people in front of me. With gold eyes. Were they Cantrips too?"
Miska's breath came short. “What did they look like? Did they wear ribbons?"
Lindi hesitated, remembering. “Small. None of them was as tall as you. And very old, and thin. One man, with a sharp face, and a brown V-mark over his nose, like frowning eyebrows. He had a very bright yellow ribbon! One woman ... she wasn't tall, but she looked like she ought to be. Very square-faced. I think she had a green ribbon, and maybe a blue one, besides the yellow. And one tiny old lady—she looked like a little girl in a white party dress, but she ... she watched me, all the time. It was almost scary. She wore many more than three ribbons! All colors—on a white cap. I couldn't tell if the women had face-marks, or just wrinkles."
"Only those three?” Miska frowned.
"Yes. I thought they might be your Elders?
"You were right. They can wear all those ribbons because they are Elders.” Miska let out her breath in a long sigh. They were the Elder Menyiken—you might say ‘Mote-Master'—the Elder Healer, and the Eldest Elder. What were they doing?"
"Looking at me.” Lindi said, fidgeting. “They were watching me the whole time. I think one even spoke to me, but I couldn't hear anything."
"Which one spoke? How did they look?"
"The man and the tiny lady looked angry. It was the other woman who spoke. I think she looked more curious than anything."
"She would be curious.” Miska smiled despite herself.
"After she spoke to me, the other two looked even angrier. That's when ... I was afraid something had happened to you, and that they thought it was my fault.” Lindi's voice broke. “Did I do something wrong? I didn't mean to, but the headache was so bad ... I was afraid I might even have another spell."
"How was your headache afterward?” said Miska, instead of answering.
"Gone! I feel ... wavy, now, though."
"The wavy feeling's from the white drink. I remember that stuff.” Juliar grinned. “Tastes like chalk stewed in turpentine. But you won't have any more headaches for at least a week."
"The headache was already gone, though. Before I got here."
"I suspect the woman who spoke to you had something to do with that,” said Miska. “She's our Elder Healer. If she sees someone in pain, she has to fix it."
"I wish I could thank her, then."
"You may get the chance. I have a feeling they're looking for me."
"They could have asked, instead of upsetting Lindi like that.” Juliar grumbled, but his eyes shone with excitement. “Are these your friends, Miska? The ones you were telling me about?” He stood up, faltering only slightly. “Let's go find them."
"Juliar, moments ago you called me crazy for trying to find them. And these aren't the P'raptoi. These are the Elders."
"This time they're looking for you. That's very different from letting you run out in the middle of a screaming mob."
"Speaking of the screaming mob,” said Lindi, “where is everyone?"
They looked around. Nurse Dannae was gone. Outside, the noise was louder than ever. Miska ran to look out the window.
"It looks like they're fighting,” she said.
"What in the name of the Stars...” Juliar looked too. “What a fiasco! We need a better view. Lindi, can you walk?"
"Of course!” Lindi tossed her head and wobbled over to the window. “No wonder it's so quiet in here! Everyone's out there."
Looking skeptical, Juliar picked up his walking stick. “I knew I should've made a spare. Can you help her, Miska?"
"I don't need help!” said Lindi, trying to focus her dilated eyes on him.
"Your pardon, Miss Salera, but right now you do. Let's go. Quietly, just in case not everyone's out there."
If anyone was still inside the Temple, they were nowhere near the hallways Juliar used. He led them through the buttery and out a side door. Crouched on the damp grass behind a boxwood hedge, they had a clear view of the shouting crowd.
"There's Gerun!” whispered Miska.
"And the man with the backbone bracelets!” Lindi pointed an unsteady finger.
"And I could swear the tall fellow with the beard's the one who crashed into Lady Myringa at the market the other day,” said Juliar.
"Listen!” said Miska.
The shouts carried clearly across the lawn.
"Imps! We saw them!"
"A whole plague of the little demons!"
"They stole my cheese!” bellowed Gerun.
"They'll steal our children!” screeched a woman. Miska, furious, half-rose. Juliar grabbed her arm and pulled her down.
"I hear one of them tried to kill your scribe boy, Vedi Sharanis!” The priestess looked annoyed, but even she couldn't make herself heard over the growing noise.
"Yeah! And we ain't seen him in a long time. Where is he?"
This time it was Lindi who dragged Juliar back behind the hedge.
"Sit down! They're all Steel Thorns!” she hissed.
"Not all of them, I'll bet,” said Juliar through clenched teeth. “But look at those three, getting the others all worked up. They're the biggest troublemakers. I'll bet the others just follow along."
Another carriage rolled up. A pink and white one with six chevrals harnessed to it, each one pure white with a single spiral horn.
"What a time for Lady Myringa to come for her candle allowance,” Juliar groaned.
The crowd swarmed up to the carriage. Myringa's panicked chevrals kicked and reared, lashing out with their sharpened horns. The crowd pulled back.
"Get out of the way, you blundering clods! You're frightening my babies!” Even from here, Miska could smell a whiff of the woman's perfume. Myringa flounced out of her carriage and strode toward the Temple door. A murmur rose like incense. Myringa was not wearing her mourning veil. Behind her trailed a smaller figure in silver and white livery.
"A page?” Juliar snorted, “Of all the ridiculous romantic notions..."
"Oh!” cried Lindi. Patches of slush still dotted the ground. Gerun had scraped up a handful, and now he flung the dripping filth over the boy.
"Imp!” Gerun roared.
The boy turned and leapt at him, cursing his attacker in words only one listener could understand.
"Kimo!” Miska screamed. She shook herself free of her friends’ hands and sprinted over the grass. She pushed her way through the startled crowd to Kimo's side, and pulled the boy away from Gerun.
"Are you all right, Kimo? Where have you been?"
"Miska!” he said. And kicked her. “I won't go
with you! You can't make me!” he shouted. The crowd edged backward, shocked silent. Miska gaped, stunned, while his tirade went on. “I won't go back with you. I'm going to live in a big house, not some stupid little cave."
"So you're Kimo,” said Juliar, coming up behind them. “Slow down—I can't understand a word you're saying."
"We've been looking all over for you!” added Lindi.
Murmurs rose around them:
"What's Miss Salera doing out here?"
"Look at her face! Like she's been drugged..."
"What did the Imp do? Bewitch her?"
"And the redheaded girl-she understands what the Imp's saying!"
Several people touched their hearts and foreheads in a warding gesture.
"You told him my name!” Kimo glared at Miska. “What are they saying about me? You'd better be glad I'm never coming back. You'd get in such big trouble with the Elders. I'll bet you'll get in trouble anyway."
"But, Kimo, where would you live? Where have you been all this time?"
Kimo smirked at her and turned to where Lady Myringa stood, watching them all with a look of curious amusement. Kimo sidled up to her, and she stroked the boy's tousled hair.
"She's my Mami now,” Kimo said.
Chapter 12
Miska stood dumbfounded. A murmur started around her, and swelled into a roar.
"The Imp's bewitched Lady Myringa!"
"Isn't that the scribe? And Majestra Doria's niece?"
Gerun grabbed Kimo's arm. “Get away from them, Imp!” Kimo shrieked. Myringa lumbered up to Gerun and slapped the man solidly across the face. He blinked at her. Drops of blood welled from the marks left by Myringa's rings.
"Take your hammy hands off my page, clod!"
"But..."
"I said get back!” She drew herself up, looking disdainfully down on Kimo's tormentors, and called over their heads to Vedi Sharanis.
"I'll call again when you have better control of your parishioners, Estrellia!"
She re-mounted the step to her carriage, pulling Kimo with her.