Light in the Darkness

by CJ Brightley

  Hanion shook his head sadly. “My parents are watchers, Larine. I’ve seen the pattern too many times not to recognize it. Some people think the rules don’t apply to them. Unless someone teaches them that they do, early and forcefully, they’ll believe it their whole lives. No matter how many times they’re caught and made to pay restitution or perform service, they’ll keep finding new ways to avoid the Watch, and even windows. Ozor was better at that at eleven than most thieves with years of experience. Do you really think he gave it up because he was sentenced to three weeks sweeping the mill floor? If I’d been trying the case, I would have made sure he got at least a year of hard physical labor. And even that probably wouldn’t have been enough. Not after years of leniency.”

  Dear Mother, what was happening? How had the man Larine loved and trusted turned into an enemy? She’d never imagined she might need to defend herself against him. But out of nowhere he’d jabbed a knife into the place where she was most vulnerable, the heart of her secret terrors and deepest shame. “He apologized, and paid all the money back, and swore by the Mother never to steal again. He’s sorry for what he did.”

  Hanion snorted. “He’s sorry he got caught. Do you really think that vow means anything to him? Even if he’s decided burglary is too risky, he’s a member of the Traders’ Guild now. They’ll teach him how to steal legally.”

  Rage mounted in Larine’s chest. “That’s a lie. The Traders’ Guild is as honest as any other guild. It’s all lies.”

  His voice softened, but his eyes remained uncompromising. “I knew you’d react this way. It’s why I’ve been avoiding this discussion.”

  “Then why did you say it? Couldn’t you have kept your mouth shut?” Tears clouded Larine’s vision. “Even if you’re right—and you’re not—it’s far too late for me to change anything now. You didn’t have to tell me you think I’m a terrible mother. You didn’t have to—”

  “But I did, Larine. I couldn’t start something with you without telling you how I felt. No matter how much I wanted to.” His voice caught. He cleared his throat harshly and went on. “It would have come out sooner or later, and then you’d have felt even more betrayed. At least this way we both know the truth.”

  Daisy thrust her cold nose into Larine’s hand, but even her familiar’s wordless compassion was no comfort. “We both know you’re a judgmental, hateful rat. I can’t believe I ever thought I liked you. I’ll be smashed and blasted and burnt before I let you touch me.” She dug her heels into her horse’s flanks, and the mare leaped forward, startled. “Get out of my way,” Larine snarled.

  Thunder crowded to the side of the road as Larine urged her mount into a trot, then a canter. The trees flew past in a blur on either side. Larine crouched over the mare’s neck, tears streaking her cheeks. She desperately wanted to get away from Hanion as far and as fast as she could.

  Behind her, Daisy yelped. Be careful! I can’t— Her claws scrabbled against the leather of the pallet.

  Larine grabbed for her, but missed. Daisy slid from the horse’s rump and fell, yelping. Her terror echoed in Larine’s mind.

  Horrified, she yanked her mount to a sliding halt and flung herself from the saddle. As she raced back, Daisy’s voice came faintly into her head, weak and laced with pain. I’m all right. It’s just my leg. Don’t worry; we’ll be able to fix it.

  Larine threw herself to the muddy road beside the dog’s sprawled form. Daisy’s pain throbbed in her own body, despite the dog’s effort to reassure her. She resisted the urge to seize her familiar, instead laying her hand gingerly on Daisy’s neck. It took the dog a moment to collect herself enough to send the Mother’s power flowing into her twisted hind leg. Larine flinched at the sharp vivid line of cracked bone, the stink of sulfur, the taste of broken stone.

  She managed to hold herself together while Daisy healed herself. She was dimly aware when Hanion slid from Thunder’s back and came to stand watching them. But he didn’t offer to help, and she ignored him.

  Finally the long, draining process of knitting bone drew to its conclusion. Larine urged Daisy to keep going until the break was completely healed, the leg as sound as if it had been many months since the injury. When there was no further healing to be accelerated and Daisy let the golden light fade, Larine gathered her into her lap and wrapped her arms around her. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry…

  Sobs shook her body. Daisy licked the tears from her face and whined, pouring love and devotion and forgiveness across their bond. Larine buried her face in her fur and cried harder.

  A strong arm encircled her shoulders. Larine couldn’t summon the strength to pull away, but she choked out words between her sobs. “You’re right. It’s all my fault. I’m a horrible mother. I’m selfish, and lazy, and irresponsible.”

  Hanion drew her close. “Shh.”

  But she couldn’t stop. All the guilt that had built up over the years came pouring out in a garbled torrent of words. “I love him so much. I didn’t want to make him hate me. I tried to teach him right from wrong, but I guess it wasn’t enough. He used to laugh when he hurt me. It made me so angry, I was afraid what I might do. I slapped him once, after he bit me. So hard, right across his face. He screamed. I almost turned myself in to Master Tasha, but I was too afraid they’d take him away from me. So I cried and promised him I’d never do it again. But now you think I should have even more, and I know you’re right. Maybe then he’d have learned to care when he hurt people, instead of laughing.”

  She pressed her face into Hanion’s chest and wept. He held her for a long time, until her tears ran out and she subsided into ragged breaths.

  He stroked her hair. “Of course I’m not suggesting you should have hit him. Just been more firm with him.”

  “I tried!” She twisted in his arms and glared at him. “I did the best I could!” Her shoulders slumped, and she sagged against him. “It just wasn’t enough.”

  “Maybe it was. Maybe I’m wrong and he really has reformed.”

  “You don’t believe that.”

  He was silent for several seconds. Finally he said, “I can’t really know. Neither of us is the Mother, able to see into people’s hearts.”

  Larine choked out a mirthless laugh. “A few minutes ago you thought you could.”

  He shook his head ruefully. “Does it really matter? Whether or not things might have been different if you’d done things differently, Ozor’s old enough now that his choices are his own. He has free will just like the rest of us. He’s responsible for how he uses it.” His voice softened. “I do believe you did your best.”

  His strong, warm chest felt good to lean on. “I hope I did. It’s so hard, trying to figure out in each moment the right way to respond. I know you’re not the only one who judged me.”

  He raised a hand to brush her wet cheek. “No matter what else I thought, I never doubted for a minute that you loved him. I know you’d give your life for him without a moment’s hesitation. Maybe that’s all that matters.” His fingers cupped her chin.

  She let him tilt her face up. His eyes searched hers as he lowered his mouth to meet her lips. The kiss was gentle at first, but it kindled fire in Larine’s veins. She pressed harder, demanding more, and he responded with an ardor that swept away everything but her yearning need for him.

  He broke off, panting, long before she was ready, and caressed her cheek with a trembling hand. “We need to get moving if we want to get to Korisan before dark.”

  Larine became aware of the mud they were sitting in and the water soaking through her breeches. She shivered and scrambled to her feet, extending a hand to Hanion. “Dear Mother, I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not.” He reached for Thunder and sent a warming rush of the Mother’s power to pull as much water from her clothes as it could. She scooped up Daisy and returned the favor.

  Her horse had wandered down the road. Thunder went after her and brought her back. Larine ruffled Daisy’s ears. Want to ride? You should probably rest your
leg.

  Daisy eyed the high pallet with distaste. No, thanks. I’ll stick to my own four feet from now on.

  Larine laughed and mounted, relaying her familiar’s words to Hanion. He guided Thunder alongside and reached for her hand.

  They rode like that for a while, until it became too uncomfortable and their horses grew restless. Larine reluctantly let his fingers slide from her grip.

  Hanion looked sideways at her. “So. Where do we go from here?”

  Larine took a deep breath and examined her feelings. Resentment still lingered at his harsh judgement, but it was fading. She appreciated his honesty. And how relevant was the issue likely to be in the future, anyway? “I’m not interested in having any more children.”

  He drew in his breath. “Neither am I. Maybe if I were younger. But Semira never wanted any, and I was always content with that.”

  Larine nodded. “So whatever differences of opinion we have about discipline aren’t going to come into play there.” She took a deep breath and forced her voice to stay level. “Ozor is my son and Shiar’s. Only the two of us and his master have any say in decisions concerning him, until he makes journeyman and is responsible for himself. If I want your opinion I’ll ask for it, but I don’t want you offering advice if I don’t. And I really don’t want you to criticize whatever decisions I end up making.”

  He nodded slowly. “I promise not to interfere, and to respect whatever you choose to do, whether I agree with it or not. Actually, I think it will be best for all of us if I stay out of his life completely.”

  “Agreed.” Larine’s heart thudded. Could they really move past this conflict? Or would it lurk in the background, waiting to re-emerge and poison their relationship? Did she want to risk another disastrous marriage, or the pain of its ending? She thought she and Hanion could love each other as neither of them had experienced in their first marriages, but it was far from a sure thing.

  She licked her lips, tasting the memory of their kiss. She was willing to gamble, if he was.

  Larine strove to keep her voice light. “So. When we get to the Mother’s Hall, do you want to request two rooms?” She gulped. “Or one?”

  The light in his eyes and the joy in his smile drove the breath from her lungs and sent shivers through her body. “I don’t see any reason to make them clean two guest rooms, when sharing one will suit me very well.”

  “Me, neither,” she whispered. Heedless of the awkwardness, she urged her horse close to Thunder and grabbed Hanion’s hand. His fingers closed around hers, warm and strong. They rode that way all the rest of the way to Korisan.

  Hanion spread their notes on Dabiel’s desk. “We were able to identify clear differences in how individual animals reacted to the disease. Certain sheep were able to fight it off much better than others. When we discovered it was contracted when a healthy sheep breathed traces of the mucus secreted by a sick one, we realized we could use that to test herds that hadn’t yet been infected.”

  Larine leaned over and indicated a sketch on one of the pages. “We collected mucous from sick sheep and dissolved it in water. It stays active for three or four days—you can feel the sparkles, just like in the animal’s body. Then we sponged a little on each healthy sheep’s nose and monitored their reaction. The best time to check is twenty-four hours after exposure. By that time susceptible sheep are developing symptoms, while resistant ones have already recovered. The difference is clearly perceptible through the Mother’s power. We marked them accordingly and then healed the ones who were getting sick.”

  Hanion pointed to another sheet, with a list of names. “These are all the herders we met with. The ones who agreed to exclusively breed resistant sheep next year are marked in this column. So far it’s only about a third of them, but another third should come around with more explanations. Most of the rest will cooperate if the Herders’ Guild issues an official recommendation.”

  Larine shuffled through the notes until she found the page she wanted, with a branching diagram. “According to the research we did on inheritance, we’ll have to repeat the tests for several generations, because only some of the resistant sheep’s offspring will inherit the trait. But if we do, in twenty years or so the disease should no longer be a problem.”

  Hanion leaned back in his chair. “We’ll travel to the sheep ranches around Elathir right away. It should only take a few weeks. After that, if you can spare us from the Hall, we thought we'd make the long circuit. With a few detours, that will take us through all of the sheep-raising regions in Tevenar. Of course, we’ll take care of whatever other needs we encounter, as well. And maybe spare a little time for sight-seeing along the way.” He smiled at Larine. She grinned back.

  Dabiel looked back and forth between them, warmth dawning in her eyes. “Good work, you two. Very good work. I approve of your plan. The Hall can certainly manage without you for such a good cause.” She scratched Buttons’s forehead and he grunted in appreciation. “Was there anything else you wanted to tell me?”

  Larine reached for Hanion’s hand. She thought about lengthy explanations, but discarded them in favor of the simple truth. “We’re going to be standing up together on Restday.”

  Hanion squeezed her fingers. “We thought about doing it in Korisan, but we want our family and friends with us. And we'd like you to officiate.”

  Dabiel broke into a broad grin. “I’d be delighted.” She jumped to her feet and hurried around the desk to envelop Larine in an enthusiastic hug. “Congratulations!” She turned to embrace Hanion. “I know you’ll be so happy together. It’s about time.” She frowned in mock annoyance. “You didn’t leave me much time to plan your party.”

  “Please don’t go to any trouble,” Larine protested. “We don’t need a big celebration.”

  “It would be a shame to waste a hot summer Restday afternoon cooped up in the Hall, even for a party,” Hanion agreed. “Why don’t we plan to go to the beach after the service instead?”

  “That sounds perfect.” Larine leaned her head on his shoulder. She couldn’t imagine a better way to celebrate the joy they’d found together. All the struggle, all the pain, all the trials they’d endured were over.

  Bright sunny days stretched ahead as far as she could see.

  13

  Firstday, 27 Growing, 976, 15th hour

  Jesia’s body slumped into Larine’s arms. She crouched and drew Dola’s lifeless form against her bondmate’s. They were so light she was able to lift both woman and deer and pass them to the waiting sailor. She shouted over the unceasing din of the storm, her voice raw and hoarse, “Put her next to the last one. He was her husband.”

  The sailor nodded. Larine fixed her eyes on Jesia’s face until the sailor bore her out of sight. Radiant joy shone there, just as it had on the faces of each of the twenty-nine wizards who’d preceded her.

  No one had faltered. No one had even hesitated. Larine had stood by and watched as one by one each of her fellow wizards had clasped their familiar and together poured breath and life and light into the storm. Their efforts had made no perceptible difference on the raging wind and rain and waves around them, but every single one of them had held firm to the faith that their sacrifice was necessary to accomplish the task the Mother had given them.

  Now Larine and Daisy were alone.

  Daisy pressed into Larine’s leg, her head flung up to drink in the wind. Her muscles were taut and her voice in Larine’s mind was eager. Our turn.

  Yes. Larine tried to take her familiar’s happy fearlessness into her mind and heart, but it disappeared into the vast numb emptiness. At some point during the past hour, the grief and horror and dread had become too much, and her emotions had drowned like the flame of a badly-made candle in its own melting wax. Now all she felt was weary determination to see the task through to its end and relief that it was nearly over. She dropped her hand to Daisy’s head and swallowed. Go ahead.

  “Wait!”

  Larine jerked her hand away from Daisy and glowere
d at Shiar. “What?” Apparently her emotions weren’t completely dead after all, because irritation sharpened her voice.

  Her former husband put his mouth to her ear and bellowed at the top of his voice, but even so his words were hard to distinguish. “We need to talk!”

  “There’s nothing to say!” she shouted.

  He grimaced and shook his head. “Come where we can hear!” He grabbed her arm and drew her away from the bow.

  She resisted, but not very hard. Deep in her stomach, frantic hope seized the opportunity to draw a few more breaths. Daisy glared at Shiar, her upper lip wrinkling to bare her teeth. We need to do it soon.

  A few minutes won’t make a difference. He won’t give up until I hear him out.

  Her familiar silently grumbled but stopped protesting.

  Shiar pulled her past the first mast and into the lee of a storage shed. With the worst of the wind blocked, she could hear him much better. “You have to reconsider this.”

  Larine jerked her arm from his grasp. “I can’t. You know what’s at stake.” She lost her balance as the ship lurched but caught herself before she fell into him. “What’s going on? Why are we turning?”

  “We’ve drifted out of position. I ordered Arren to move us back.” Shiar threw up an arm to shield his face as a wave broke across the deck and threw icy spray over them, then herded her around the corner of the shed so it was between them and the wind’s new direction. “You’ve got to think about our son.”

  The deck tilted. Their new course cut across the waves at a different angle, greatly increasing the rolling motion of the ship. Larine’s stomach clenched, although she couldn’t tell if it was from the motion or Shiar’s words. “I am thinking about Ozor. I’m saving his life.”

  Shiar waved dismissively as another massive wave broke over the prow. “Surely what’s already been done is enough to save Elathir.”