by CJ Brightley
As they emerged from the cubicle, a tall, curvy girl several years older than Larine hurried up. “Master Brolin, we’re very busy up front. Master Kiva wants to know if Hanion can help.”
“Of course.” Brolin nodded at Hanion. “Come back if things slow down.”
A few swift steps carried Hanion to the girl’s side. His arm went around her waist, and his face lit with an expression so warm and intimate Larine’s stomach turned over. He bent his head to meet her kiss. “You didn’t have anything to do with Master Kiva asking for me, did you?”
She grinned at him, her eyes dancing. “Would I do such a thing?”
He snorted. Then, with a sheepish smile, he stepped back to a more publicly appropriate distance and nodded to the patient. “This way, ma’am.”
The woman smiled indulgently and followed Hanion and the girl toward the front. Dabiel tugged at Larine’s hand, but she couldn’t move. She closed her eyes, forcing down nausea. Maybe if she tried hard enough she could wake up in her own bed, the last two weeks nothing but a horrible dream.
“What’s the matter?” Dabiel tried to put her arm around Larine, but she shook her off. She didn’t want any touch right now, no matter how kind.
“Nothing. Go away.”
“Don’t mind Hanion.” Dabiel patted her shoulder awkwardly. “He’s nice enough, but he goes through girls faster than tunics. He and Zuri got together last month, and I’d be surprised if they’re still together at Harvest.”
Larine shook her head. She’d made an utter fool of herself, mooning over someone who probably thought of her as a silly child. She’d die if she had to face Hanion again. She wanted to flee the Mother’s Hall and not stop running until she was miles away. Smash it, she’d go to Gemgeda by foot if she had to, even if it took her years.
“If they’re really as busy up front as Zuri said, they might let us bandage a cut or two. I got to help splint a broken arm once, when all the wizards were overwhelmed with patients.” Dabiel’s voice was anxious.
Larine appreciated her concern and her attempt to help, but she longed to find some quiet, private corner where she could curl into a ball and cry for a long time. She shrugged. “Whatever.”
An indignant squawk came from a cubicle beyond the screen, followed by a woman’s strained voice. “Dabiel, is that you? Would you run and fetch Idan and Oak, please? We’re going to need their help.”
Dabiel darted to the opening of the cubicle. Her eyes got wide. “Of course, Master Tasha. Be right back.” Without a backward glance at Larine she dashed away.
Curiosity offered a welcome distraction from Larine’s turbulent emotions. She slipped to the opening and peered around the edge of the screen, trying not to be noticed. Master Tasha was stroking Honk, while the goose glared at their patient. The man glared back, fury in his eyes, but also fear. Blood stained the white sheet of the cot where he sat.
Master Tasha extended a placating hand. “Please, let us take a closer look. I promise, we’ve dealt with similar issues hundreds of times. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
He knocked her hand away. “I said don’t touch me. I should never have let them assign me to a woman.”
“It’s perfectly understandable that you would want a male wizard to attend you. But there’s no need to get violent.” Anger threatened to break through Tasha’s calming demeanor. “I’ve sent for the Guildmaster, but it will take him a moment to get here. Meanwhile, you’re losing a lot of blood. Honk and I can deal with the worst of it, if you’ll let us.”
“No!” The man’s voice rose. Larine heard terror under his anger. He struggled to his feet and staggered toward the opening. Bright red blood dripped from his breeches. His face went deathly pale, his eyes rolled back, and he pitched headlong to the floor at Larine’s feet.
Without thinking she dropped to her knees and caught his head before it struck the stone. Master Tasha hurried up. “Thank the Mother. Can you stay with him while I get Brolin or one of the other men? That bleeding has to be stopped, but he forbade us to heal him. I’ll be back in a moment.” She stepped over the man’s prostrate body and strode down the corridor.
Larine was left alone, the unconscious man’s head cradled in her lap. She stared in horror at the blood soaking his lower body and spreading into a pool beneath his legs.
Master Tasha’s goose came to stand beside her. It pressed against her side and laid its head on her shoulder. Larine took comfort from the pressure of its warm, feathered body. A strange calm settled over her. She stroked the man’s hair. He stirred, and a deep groan emerged from his throat. He was in so much pain. Larine could feel it in the way the muscles of his neck tightened against her legs and hear it in the whimpers he fought to suppress. He twitched, then thrashed, writhing in a vain attempt to escape his misery.
“Shh.” Larine stroked his hair. At first her touch seemed to have no effect, but gradually he stilled. Larine crooned a wordless lullaby, the melody her mother had hummed whenever she woke screaming from a nightmare. The man’s tense shoulders relaxed and he fell silent. The goose made a soft approving sound and nestled closer to Larine’s side.
They huddled there for what seemed a very long time. Finally, swift footsteps approached. “I had no idea it was so bad. All he complained of was a little pain. I thought we were dealing with hemorrhoids or constipation until suddenly he got belligerent and blood was everywhere. By that time he’d ordered us not to touch him, so there was nothing Honk could do.”
In a rush of wind and fur a wolf leaped over Larine and crouched over the man. Guildmaster Idan stepped past her and knelt beside his familiar. Larine heaved a sigh of relief as golden light flooded from his hand and bathed the man’s buttocks.
Warm arms went around her shoulders. Master Tasha murmured in her ear, “I’m sorry I left you alone like that. Are you all right?”
Larine nodded and leaned into the wizard. She closed her eyes against the tears that suddenly threatened.
“Honk says you took good care of him. No wonder the Mother chose you. You must have been terrified.”
She hadn’t been, but it was hitting her now. She couldn’t stop the trembling that started in her belly and spread until her whole body shook. She swallowed hard and forced a whisper through numb lips. “Will he be all right?”
“I’m sure he will.” Master Tasha’s voice wasn’t as confident as her words. “Idan?”
The Guildmaster’s voice was grim. When Larine looked up, she quailed at the cold fury in his eyes. “His bowel is perforated. By some sort of blunt object, apparently. I think we can make the repair without leaving permanent damage.”
Tasha sucked in her breath. “He was assaulted?”
“Nothing else would explain his injuries.”
“No wonder his behavior was so odd and unpredictable.”
Idan nodded. He looked past them. “Dabiel, would you fetch a watcher, please? Check the courtrooms first, but go out to the nearest post if you have to.”
Dabiel’s voice was scared but eager. “Yes, sir!” Her footsteps dashed away.
Tasha’s arms tightened around Larine. “We shouldn’t involve the girls more than they already are.”
“They’re going to be wizards. They deserve to know what they’re getting into.” Idan addressed the man, his voice gentle. “Who did this to you?”
The man twisted his head to glimpse the Guildmaster, then buried it back in Larine’s lap. “My fault,” he muttered. “I lied to him, cheated on him, treated him like dirt. He couldn’t take it any more.”
“No matter what you did, this kind of violence can’t be justified. He’ll have to answer for it.”
The man groaned. “My fault,” he repeated. “Don’t hurt him.”
“The Mother’s power will show the truth of what happened. We’ll help him if we can. And we’ll make sure he never does this again, to you or anyone else.”
The man fell silent. Master Idan returned his attention to the golden light enveloping his body. For
a while all was quiet. Larine leaned against Master Tasha and Honk, letting their quiet warm support wash over her. She fixed her eyes on the glow of the Mother’s power. It pulsed and swirled and shimmered, a bright force for good defying the unspeakable horror of what had happened.
At last Master Idan sat back and Oak relaxed. The golden glow faded. “We’ve repaired the damage. Everything should function normally.” Idan reached to help the man to a sitting position. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. Your body will need certain foods to help replace it. Tasha will talk to you about what you should eat for the next few days.” He glanced at his wife. “Unless you’d rather I do it.”
The man seemed shrunken to a shadow of what he’d been when Larine first saw him. “What does it matter?” He wrapped his arms around his knees and dropped his head to rest on them. Bitterness crept into his tone. “I can’t be humiliated any more than I have already.”
Tasha’s hand on her shoulder urged Larine to her feet. “I think it will be better if you handle it, Idan. I’ll take Larine to wash up.” She gestured. Larine looked down to see spatters of blood on her hands and clothes. She shivered.
Idan nodded and supported the man to a seat on a stool. Tasha pulled the blood-stained sheet off the cot, used it to soak up the worst of the blood pooled on the floor, and gathered it into a bundle. “Come with me, Larine.”
Larine followed the wizard and the waddling goose out of the cubicle, through the screened area, and to a row of basins against the far wall. Tasha dumped the soiled sheet into a bin and turned her attention to Larine. “These aren’t so bad.” She wet a washcloth and gently dabbed at the spots on Larine’s tunic. “See? They’re coming right out.”
Larine submitted to her ministrations. When she was done, only wet blotches remained where the blood had been. Larine accepted a bar of soap and lathered her hands, scrubbing until she was sure all traces of blood were gone. Tasha poured water from a pitcher to rinse them.
She handed Larine a towel and returned the pitcher to its place. As Larine dried her hands, Tasha cleared her throat. “How do you feel?”
Larine took a deep breath. To her surprise, she realized she wasn’t shaking any more. In fact, she felt good. Better than she had since she’d watched Gemgeda recede in the distance as the ship sailed away from the harbor. A warm, pleasant sensation glowed in her gut. She searched until she found the right name for it. “Satisfied.” She shrugged. “I mean, I think I really helped that man. At least a little.”
“You did.” Tasha’s voice was warm with approval.
“I’m glad I was there so you didn’t have to leave him alone.” Larine shook her head. Now that it was over, she could scarcely believe she hadn’t panicked and fled when the man had crashed at her feet. She’d understood what was needed and done it. She’d stayed calm, her fear and panic receding until the crisis was over. She’d offered comfort to a person in distress, and it had helped. She’d acted like a wizard, and the role had felt right and good in a way nothing ever had before.
“The Mother chose well.” Tasha dropped a hand to Honk’s head. “I’d like very much to be your master, if you’d like to be my apprentice.”
Larine caught her breath. Confusion assaulted her. She missed home as much as ever, but if she left now she would miss the Mother’s Hall nearly as much. In one short afternoon she’d found so much to care about. She’d hate to leave Dabiel behind, and Master Idan, and Master Tasha. Even if Hanion never returned her interest, at least she could be near him. And most of all, she could work beside the other wizards to care for the people who needed them. She could be the calm, competent, useful person she’d been for a few minutes back there, spending her life doing valuable work. In a few years a familiar would come to her, and that shimmering golden light would flow through her, from the Mother into the world. No matter how happy she was in Gemgeda, if she turned down the chance to be a wizard, she’d always feel the loss.
It hurt to sacrifice her dream of going home. Larine wanted to weep. But she nodded and scuffed her toe on the floor. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
A broad smile broke across Tasha’s face. She reached for Larine’s hand. “In that case, you can assist Honk and me for the rest of the afternoon. I can’t promise we won’t encounter any more situations as dramatic as that one, but I doubt we will. Normally things are much more routine.”
Larine clasped her offered hand. “Routine is fine with me.” Her grin was tremulous at first, but after a moment it steadied. “I’ve got a lot to learn before I’ll be ready to deal with something like that again.”
Master Tasha pulled her close and put an arm around her shoulders. She hugged Larine, then guided her back toward the screened cubicles. “Let’s get started.”
3
Restday, 26 Growing, 976, 20th hour
Dabiel stood by the big fireplace in the main Hall, Buttons at her side. Elathir’s wizards gathered around them, grim and silent. Rumors of what she would tell them, and what she would ask, had spread swiftly. Outside, wind whistled around the corners of the building. There was still no rain, but a few high bands of clouds had appeared just before sunset. Dabiel had ordered the windows of the Hall shuttered. Warm golden lantern light lit the gathering, but little reached the soaring ceiling, and gloom lurked in the corners.
Larine pressed one hand into Daisy’s head and clutched Hanion’s strong hand with the other. Even though she knew what Dabiel was going to say, the Guildmaster’s words chilled her. “Friends, the Mother has given me a grim and terrible warning. Over the next few hours the Wizards’ Guild will face a challenge greater than any we’ve dealt with before. We’ll be called on to make an unimaginable sacrifice. If we refuse, the people of Elathir will die. But if we’re willing to do what the Mother asks, they’ll live.”
It was as simple as that. The fear and confusion that had filled Larine since she’d first heard the news faded, replaced by calm resolve. She was a wizard. The Mother had called her to give her life to serve the people of Tevenar. Did it really matter whether it was given over the course of years or all at once?
Dabiel described her vision. Larine imagined the immense storm spinning over the ocean, just out of sight beyond the horizon. According to the Mother, it would make landfall late tomorrow afternoon. The ship carrying the wizards who volunteered must leave at sunrise to reach the proper place in time.
Taking a deep breath, Dabiel pressed her hand hard into Button’s head. “I’ll meet with each of you in my office. You’ll tell me whether or not you wish to volunteer. Your choice will remain private. If more than thirty-one wizards offer to go, I’ll decide who to send.”
Larine flinched. She was horribly glad it was Dabiel, not her, who must choose which of her friends would live and which would die. If anyone could bear that burden without it destroying them, it was Dabiel.
But maybe no one could.
Dabiel rubbed her forehead. “You have one hour to decide. Think, pray, talk to those you love. Listen to what the Mother tells you. Not all of you will be called to sacrifice yourself. If she forbids you to go, as she forbade me, there’s no shame in that. Nor need you be ashamed if fear or even selfishness keeps you here. Don’t hesitate to say no if you have even the slightest doubt. The Mother wants only your free and fully willing service, in this as in all things.”
She raised her hand. Buttons sent a wash of the Mother’s power flowing from her palm to bathe them all in shimmering golden light. Larine lifted her face to the warm, tingling rush. It filled her with the peace and joy she’d felt each time she’d stood in the Mother’s presence.
The light faded and Dabiel dropped her hand. “May the Mother be with us all.”
The gathering slowly broke up, silence giving way to subdued murmurs. Larine turned to Hanion and their eyes met. Without a word they headed toward the stairs.
Thunder and Daisy exchanged glances. Daisy fell in beside the horse. We’re going by the midden.
Gratitude for her familiar’s understan
ding flooded Larine. The animals didn’t care what their bondmates did in their presence, but they respected the humans’ desire for privacy. Thank you.
The dog wagged her tail and scampered after Thunder. Larine and Hanion climbed to the third floor.
As soon as the door of the bedroom closed behind them, they were in each other’s arms. Larine clung to Hanion fiercely, trying to express with her hands and mouth and the pressure of her body all the things she had no words for. Hanion responded with equal ardor. They shed their clothes and moved to the bed, loving each other with frantic, desperate need. Larine crushed all thought, letting sensation consume her mind and body. She blocked out everything but her craving for her lover’s body and the joy of its satisfaction. This was life. This was the highest and truest expression of the Mother’s creation, the great gift she’d given her children, the glorious celebration of everything it meant to be human, to love, to be.
Afterwards, sated, she lay in Hanion’s arms, her head pillowed on his chest. If only she could freeze time, like a window fixed on some crucial detail, and preserve this moment perfect and unchanging forever.
She resented the deep rumble of his voice beneath her ear, even as she adored it. “What are we going to do?”
“I don’t know.” Tears leaked from her eyes and dampened his hair. She turned her head to press her face into his skin, breathing his beloved scent. “It’s not fair.”
His arms wrapped around her, crushing her close. “No.”
Larine sniffed hard and pulled away. “The Mother can’t want to take this away from us.”
Hanion rose, went to the window, and opened the shutters. “Of course she doesn’t. She’d never ask if the alternative wasn’t much, much worse.”
Larine rummaged through the clothes she hadn’t yet had a chance to organize. She found a soft robe, put it on, and went to join him. Clouds mounded on the horizon, and the trees in the plaza below thrashed in the wind that whipped her hair, but stars still speckled the blackness overhead. For several minutes they were silent, staring into the night.