Spirit Mage

by Esther Mitchell

  As she studied Nacaris' restless form, pain lanced her heart. Why did Kishfa torment her this way -- repeatedly dropping him into her life, only to tear him away?

  She would be leaving Lurudan as soon as she was done with Reaphia, and everything she witnessed since her arrival told her Nacaris belonged here. Lurudan was his home. She stifled her small spurt of doubt and gave herself a sharp mental shake. Hadn't she known from the beginning of their affair she was meant to be alone? The truth was simple. Telyn bit her lip, hard. So why didn't it feel so simple?

  Pushing aside her confusion, Telyn walked over to where Paduari lay curled in the sleep of the just, and took great satisfaction in toeing him in the side.

  "Wake up, Paduari. It's time to stitch Na--Marakai up."

  Paduari sat up, yawning as he blinked away sleep. "What do you want me to do?"

  "I need you to wake Nevorai. It'll take both of you to hold him down. He's going to feel this," I hope. She left the final worry unspoken. If he didn't feel the stitching, they had a more serious problem than she thought. "Even though he's basically still unconscious, his body is going to react to what we do."

  Paduari nodded solemnly. Moving to where the young monk sat -- Telyn couldn't tell if he slept or not -- Paduari said something, and the other man's eyes snapped open. The observant clarity there gave Telyn her answer. Wherever Nevorai had been, it wasn't asleep.

  After rousing Nevorai from his trance, Paduari turned to where Telyn crouched by Marakai's side. His palms began to sweat, and his gut clenched in fear.

  He didn't want to be here, didn't want to see Marakai this pale and unresponsive ever again -- especially when it was once again his fault.

  "Is something amiss?"

  Nevorai's questioning gaze and quiet words drew him back, and Paduari shook his head. "No."

  Forcing his expression calmer than he felt, Paduari moved to his cousin's side, laying a hand in the center of the other man's chest. As Telyn turned to get the needle from beside the fire, Paduari noted Marakai’s lack of response to the touch with a frown. He wanted to ask if this was normal, but he couldn't bring himself to ask the question.

  Watching Telyn carefully, he got the distinct impression something bothered the woman. Her aura was fuzzy and swirled, as if muddled by confusion. His brow furrowed, before his eyebrows shot up in disbelief as she turned back toward him, holding a glowing sliver of metal he assumed to be the needle. He blinked, and then shrugged it off. He'd seen much odder things since the night Telyn rode out of the trees and saved his life. And, he reminded himself as he glanced around at the shifting facets of the Tikesha's spirit lights, he'd likely see even odder things before his life was over.

  With practiced ease, Telyn threaded the length of sinew through the needle's eye, then knelt beside Marakai's leg. Glancing up at Paduari, her gaze fixed on where his hand lay lightly on the wounded man's chest, and he saw frustration flash in her eyes as she snapped, "I said hold him! You're going to have to keep him from thrashing about when I start sewing."

  Paduari looked at her gravely. "Don't worry. He won't feel a thing."

  Telyn bit her lip, and Paduari had the distinct impression Marakai not feeling anything was precisely what she was worried about. With a shake of her head, Telyn clamped her hand down hard on Marakai's leg, just below the wound. A small groan of pain left the wounded man. Paduari took it as a good sign, especially when he caught the flicker of relief in Telyn's eyes. If Marakai could feel the pressure of Telyn's hand, it must mean the feeling in his leg wasn't gone, and, given time and healing, he might regain full use of his leg, though Paduari imagined Marakai would always have a limp. He watched silently as Telyn lifted away the poultice with her free hand. The smile of relief on her face eased his concern, and he looked down at the leg. The skin around the wound was pink with warmth, and the wound itself seeped dark red blood, the sign of a clean cut. It had to be a very positive sign. Telyn moved around until she knelt right beside Marakai's leg wound, and began stitching, pulling the sinew through muscle and skin so the edges of the wound met again, with tight, small stitches. As Telyn sewed, Paduari noticed how she gradually released her grip on Marakai's leg, until her palm was resting gently against Marakai's knee. He frowned. Now, instead of a Healer, her touch almost resembled the reassuring touch of a lover... But it couldn't be. Could it? Though he moaned and tossed his head every once in a while, Marakai gave no other sign acknowledging he was even aware of the stitching, let alone Telyn's touch.

  It was a long and delicate process to stitch a wound like this and, after a time, Telyn's muscles began to cramp and ache with the imposed stillness necessary for an even stitch. But, finally, after what seemed an eternity, she pulled the sinew out of the needle and knotted the last stitch. With a sigh of relief, she sat back, flexing the muscles in her back and shoulders and rolling her neck to exorcise the stiffness there. Instinctively, her attention moved to her patient's face, searching for signs of discomfort or pain. A small, peaceful smile lingered on his lips, and his eyes were closed. His chest, under Paduari's hand, rose and fell evenly, as if Nacaris slept the sleep of the just, and not the pain-haunted delirium of the gravely injured. Telyn's gaze moved to Paduari, then, and as his eyes met hers, he nodded slightly.

  Telyn drew a deep breath, her eyes closing as she finally understood the full power of Spirit Majik, and how different it was from any other Majik she'd ever encountered. It left her in awe to realize how much peace, or agony, a single touch of a Spirit Majin's hand could bring. Telyn's gut clenched as the reality of what lay ahead settled over her, again. In a few hours' time, they'd be facing a Majin capable of the darkest nightmares a soul could ever face. It was a reminder Telyn didn't need, and a memory she must either overcome, or see used against her when she came face-to-face with Reaphia again.

  Determined to concentrate on the moment, and not worry about what had yet to happen, Telyn shook off her thoughts. Packing a fresh compress against the newly-stitched leg wound, she selected a new length of sinew, and moved to kneel by Nacaris' shoulder. Removing the spent compress, she nodded with satisfaction. This wound, too, had drained properly. Drawing a deep breath for courage, she prayed for a steady hand as she reached again for the stiletto. In order for the shoulder wound to heal properly once it was stitched, she had to cut away the already-rotted flesh and re-open the flesh she cauterized earlier. Painfully aware Nacaris could bleed to death before she ever got the wound stitched, Telyn closed her eyes and mouthed a plea to Kishfa and the spirits of this place. Then, opening her eyes again, she gripped the knife firmly and began to cut.

  Chapter Eight

  Telyn sighed heavily, flexing her stiff shoulders as she sat back from the small stream and examined the cavern around her. Paduari found this cavern spring on his way out to find firewood earlier, and Telyn thanked whatever spirits led him to it. She would never have made it to water outside of the caverns, as weary as she was. Her gaze turned back to the stream as she wrung out her under tunic, watching the water carry away the blood covering it, her face, and her hands. Spreading the wet tunic over a nearby rock to dry and then slipping on her overshirt to cover herself, Telyn leaned against the cavern wall with another sigh. Sweet Kishfa, but she was tired! The past week ran together in her mind, a series of blurred memories and vague sensations. She still wasn't completely sure why she came to Lurudan in the first place.

  The Salamandars of Raiador were a cagey lot, and they were particularly reticent about revealing her task, now that she'd memorized most of the Phoenix Book. Aware it was neither accident nor coincidence her quick intervention saved Paduari from those Rahian thugs, she refused to question any of it too closely. Telyn couldn't clearly understand any of the events from then on. She still didn't have the answers she really wanted.

  Now, here she was, washing blood from herself and wishing she could lie down and die. She was soul-sick with exhaustion, but knew she couldn't rest yet. They were running out of time. There was one more day before th
e TiKani went dark, and if they were going to cross the portal while Reaphia was weak, it would have to be soon, before Moon Dark. Reaphia obviously assumed her priests would be able to keep the portal open, so she would exhaust her energy in whatever endeavor she was currently entrenched in. If they made it through before the portal closed, they could strike shortly after, while she was weak. It was the only advantage they were going to get. Telyn bit her lip. That was, of course, if everything went according to plan. So far, since that night in the woods, nothing had gone the way she planned.

  Originally, she expected to toss out a small-time Majin bully and be on her way. Instead, she was thrust neck deep in a dilemma she couldn't turn her back on. Once the situation was explained to her, she'd planned to march boldly into Sehidhe's presence and offer her services as a swordsman as a means of getting close to the tyrant. Those who attempted to deify themselves usually took such an act as an acknowledgement of their divine right, and were flattered by it. She'd planned to lure Sehidhe out, into an ambush.

  What she hadn't counted on was Reaphia.

  With Reaphia as the Anieni, all Telyn's earlier plans crumbled away. Reaphia had no delusions of being either a Goddess or a Saphiu. She had simply taken on the role the people ascribed to her, because it gave her a foothold and made what she was after easier to obtain. Reaphia might have an ego bigger than the Caryptus Sea, but she would be neither flattered nor fooled by an oath of fealty, and particularly not from Telyn. To her, every soul not belonging to a Vedic was already hers. An oath of fealty simply made them easy prey, and was a mistake on the part of the oath-giver. No, Reaphia's weakness wasn't vanity; it was paranoia. If they were going to have a chance of getting close enough to her to do anything, they had to rely on distractions.

  Telyn's brow furrowed as she considered it. What could they use as a distraction? Paduari and Nevorai would be countering Reaphia's spells and leeching her power. To do that successfully, they would need the greater portion of her attention focused elsewhere. Telyn couldn't act as a distraction, either. She and the Vedic knew one another too well. To get near enough to the priestess to kill her, Telyn would need to go entirely unnoticed by Reaphia.

  No, they needed someone Reaphia couldn't measure, someone she neither knew nor was able to read. They needed someone the Vedic would underestimate, would consider both a threat and an easy target. Telyn considered using Sala, and just as quickly discarded the idea. An Elemental might be a considerable threat to a normal or Elemental Majin, but a Spirit Majin could suck the life energy out of even the most ancient and powerful of Elementals. Telyn rubbed her eyes wearily. Blessed Kishfa, how she wished Dariadus, or her father, was here in her place! They'd have known what to do.

  You have to let go of the past, Sala's voice flowed over her. You have all of the knowledge and ability Ashes ever had, and more, inside of you, but you won't let yourself use it because you assume doing so will tarnish his sacrifice. No power in this world -- or beyond -- can alter his dedication, or diminish his honor. You must find your own path, Telyn.

  Telyn glanced over at the Elemental with a snort of disdain. "A little confused, aren't we? You preach at me constantly about how I should follow my heart, and about the virtues of continuity, yet now you would have me forget everything I believe because it suits some secret little agenda of yours."

  Sala landed softly on the cavern floor, her feet actually touching solid earth for only the second time in Telyn’s memory.

  You waste breath arguing, Phoenix. You know as well as I that you resist only out of fear. If you truly believed, in your heart, you were incapable of the tasks given you, you would have left us all behind, long ago.

  Telyn's gaze fell, and she stared morosely at the ground. She had no defense against Sala's quiet assertion, because she knew, deep in her soul, the Salamandar was right. She also knew they were no longer talking about Reaphia. Though she might doubt herself at times, she had complete faith in her right to wear the sigil of her father's House.

  Finally, with a sigh of resignation, she lifted her gaze to the Salamandar again. "Aye, I fear what you're asking of me. Sala, have you ever loved someone? Really loved them... so much you dreaded every day you spent with them because you were afraid that might be the day you lost them? I love Nacaris that much, and I've already lost him once. I gave away a part of my soul when I believed him dead, and I can't reclaim it. Ever. How am I supposed to forgive that?"

  Sala's color dimmed to a deep, dark red. Phoenix, I am a part of the World Forge that lights all of creation. All the emotions of the world are mine. I feel every pain and sorrow, every joy and ecstasy ever experienced. My bond with you makes what you feel, what you think, an intertwined piece of me. I've felt everything you've ever felt, and I know everything you're capable of. And, Sala flickered out completely for a second, then returned the same dully glowing red. So do you.

  Telyn swallowed hard. She'd been through so much in the time since Falraec, she almost forgot what the breathless exhilaration of love felt like. Whenever she thought of Nacaris now, it was only guilt, pain, and anger she remembered clearly. And yet... Other memories pressed upon her. Memories of the feel of his skin, his touch, the affection and teasing warmth in his grey-green eyes. Her heart leapt and her body warmed within the tenderness of those memories.

  Throat closed against the swell of emotion pricking the backs of her eyes and blurring her vision, Telyn faced the bittersweet truth. Even through all the agony of loss, and all the anger of betrayal, she never forgot how to love Nacaris.

  Looking down, she gasped as she watched her skin glow a pale yellow, growing brighter the more she let thoughts of love and forgiveness fill her. Terrified, she leapt to her feet. What was happening to her? She glanced at Sala to find the Elemental distracted by an ecaped mote of TiKani.

  Telyn closed her eyes and drew a deep breath, her heart lurching in panic as she recalled something she read in the Phoenix Book at Raiador. She only had a vague memory of the words, but it was something about the Phoenix's One True Heart, and how to summon it. Was it even possible?

  She shook her head. She didn't want to think about it. Nacaris couldn't be her one true anything. He was completely mortal in ways she could never again be, and he was a warrior. One day he would leave her, no matter what either of them planned, and no good Majik in the world could halt that.

  Or could it? Telyn frowned and bit her lip hard, then scrubbed a restless hand over her face. She really needed to consult a Balashar, or a Maji Mistress or Master, at very least.

  Sala's attention came back to Telyn with a snap. Why do you need a Fate Reader?

  Telyn sighed, then studied Sala shrewdly for a moment. "Can you decipher a One True Heart?"

  Sala wavered, her regret clear. Fire is a heart reader, not a soul reader. I can read love, but the One True Heart rests in the soul, beyond my reach to read.

  She figured as much. Telyn shifted restlessly. "Which is why I need a Balashar. I need to know if it's even possible."

  Ask Paduari, Sala suggested serenely. A Spirit Majin would know.

  Telyn nodded, her gaze resting on the cavern passage leading to the Tikesha. Sure, she could ask Paduari. But one question gave her pause, running endlessly through her mind. Did she really need, or want, to know? Did she really need someone else to tell her what she already felt within her own soul?

  Moving reluctantly, Telyn reached for her tunic, and made her way back toward the Tikesha. She wasn't ready to face any of the decisions awaiting her there, least of all how to deal with Reaphia. She supposed she could, and probably should talk that part over with Paduari. And then there was the question of what to do with Nacaris. He couldn't go with them as he was now, but she feared leaving him alone in the Tikesha if the TiKani should go out before she and Paduari returned.

  You can heal him, a soft voice spoke within her mind, and Telyn glanced around for Sala. She gasped as the soul-deep familiarity of the voice sank over her, and a chill ran down her spine. This wa
sn't Sala. It was the voice she'd never been able to identify, though she convinced herself over the cycles it was the voice of the man to whom she owed life.

  You can heal him, the voice persisted. Take away the wounds slowing him, child. He is the source which you seek. He is the heart that strengthens yours. He is your equal.

  Images tumbled through her mind in a cascade she barely had time to process, let alone understand. A man with hair as golden as Helios Himself, and eyes lit with inner fire filled her vision. Her breath caught at the sheer beauty of his fiery, confident use of the very Majik she still struggled daily to master.

  Another image flashed across her vision -- this one of a young woman with long, tawny hair and a flowing lavender gown. She ran toward the warrior and straight into his arms. The love flowing between them in a single gaze caught Telyn's throat and twisted her heart in her chest. If any two people were meant to be partnered in life, it was these two shadows before her eyes. A bubble of shock burst through her as she studied the woman, and recognition slammed into her. That woman was her mother! Younger, happier, but definitely Gwneth. Which could only mean... She clutched her chest as if to hold the presence touching her to her forever.