He killed ten more yetis and paused. It occurred to him that he could make better use of the spell if he sustained the tendrils rather than sending them in short bursts. The charging horde was large enough that it seemed all he had to do was wave his hands in their general direction, missing them would be near impossible. He modified to allow for maintaining the spell and managed to kill fifty of the foul beasts within the space of three breaths. He proceeded to prune the enemy numbers, watching them dwindle, striking with fury, determined that these monsters would never again threaten his family or friends.
He continued the executions until shouts of victory filled his ears from seemingly everywhere, coming from soldiers as well as mountaineers and the villagers. Bashierwood was saved. He leaned against the chimney stack and stared up into the darkening sky. Night would soon come, which meant the assault had lasted all day. Fires burned, and he was pleased to see none of them were in the village. Not a single yeti or Condemned had breached the barricades, although some had managed to climb up and lose their heads to either sword or axe.
Friends and neighbors and even soldiers waved up to him and he responded to them in kind. He waved a few more times and decided it was time to go back inside before he ended up spending half the night waving to people. Stepping carefully over the charred boards, he climbed down through the window.
The damage to the inn seemed greater, now that he had time to really look at it. The walls and ceilings were scorched and the once shiny floors were dull and blackened. He splashed through puddles while making his way to the fourth floor. Water dripped on him. The top floor would require extensive repairs, he noted on his way down. The third and second floors seemed to have far less damage and the first seemed relatively unharmed. He sighed; knowing a fire this size must have seriously injured people.
He entered the dining area, poured a large glass of water, and sat down at table seven. People filed in and most all of them took the time to stop and pat him on the back. They had seen the flame throwing and the tornado, not to mention the giant gusher that put out the inferno and drenched all of Bashierwood. Not a few of them talked about his assault on Binkman’s cliff; which was now a sudden drop from the forest edge.
The three Talenteds made their entrance, receiving praise as they walked over to table seven and practically dropped into their chairs. Their eyes were half closed and their lips were chapped, both the natural result of continuous spell casting. They sat quietly as if even talking would take more energy than they could afford.
Samuel glanced at his clothes and only now seemed to realize they were dirty. He sighed and did nothing, apparently not having the energy to cast the laundering spell. “Are there any more?” he asked in a voice that pleaded for good news.
Daniel drank his glass half empty, and then summoned the necessary potential. He made a careful scan of the entire mountain, which was about as far as he could reach at the moment without a crescendo. There was not a single trace of living yetis, Condemneds, or Aakacarns, except for the Talenteds. “No,” he replied, and then took a sip of water.
Sherree smiled in spite of her obvious fatigue. “You certainly don’t believe in elaborating.”
Tim arrived carrying a pitcher of water and four glasses, “You guys look like you can use this,” he said, and then sat down.
“Thanks,” Jerremy said, it was the first time Daniel heard such a response from him. The Talented must really be thirsty. He took a sip and held the glass near his lips, and after a short while, took another sip.
Daniel leaned back in his chair, positioning himself comfortably. He did not feel like doing anything other than rest, if only for a few moments, and he did not want to answer any questions that required more than a yes or no response. He knew the break would be short lived, especially since injured people were being carried in by the moment and would soon require his attention.
“Where did all the water come from?” Sherree asked. She was obviously feeling better. Even worn out from the exertions of battle, she did not cease to make inquires. “I was in the middle of focusing our combined potential when water fell from a cloudless sky and soaked me to the skin,” she added, and then somehow found the energy to cast a laundering spell and make her clothes spotless.
“Yes, the spell collapsed and we had to summon the potential all over again in a hurry. By the time we had an opportunity to look, the inn had fire damage and the entire village was wet,” Jerremy said, without a trace of haughtiness. He glowed with potential and his silk garments became clean.
Samuel leaned forward raising his thick eyebrows quizzically. “I heard Serin Gell ask for your surrender, everybody did. What was he trying to do, drown us?” the Talented said, guessing wrong about the origin of the spell.
“No, he wanted to roast us. Daniel wanted to…,” Tim began.
Chapter Nineteen: A Time to Heal
“Daniel wants to go heal the wounded,” Daniel interrupted, and then stood and left them to chatter among themselves.
The conversation taking place at table seven could go on; Daniel had better things to do, like healing people of their injuries. He noticed a man having gray sideburns lying semi-conscious on a broad cushion. The middle-aged gentlemen had few wrinkles on his well rounded face, a heavy set fellow who seemed more muscle than fat. Deep lacerations on his chest and right side bled profusely. The emerald green pants were all that was left of his uniform, and those were in tatters, ripped as if caught in a thresher. The teeth marks of a yeti marred his left arm, yet it was far from being the most serious injury. He stared blankly as the precious life sustaining fluid leaked from his body.
A young officer, a man not many years older than Daniel, having red hair that stopped just short of his collar, had a nasty gash on his right arm. He stood grimly over the other fellow, seemingly more concerned about the older man than with his own injury. “Can you help the General?” he asked in a tight voice.
People must have been talking; otherwise the officer would not know who to seek help from. Normally, a young buckskin clad mountaineer would not be high on the list of people asked to provide medical attention. Daniel shrugged it off. Of course people would talk, battles like this did not happen often, especially in Ducaun where spell casters and soldiers did not trust each other enough to ally in common cause. He had a feeling that prejudice would change after today, at least on Tannakonna.
He summoned the potential and healed the young officer first. The effort required little power or concentration, unlike what would be required to heal the General, which would be slightly more.
“Thanks,” the Lieutenant said, wide-eyed, as if surprised he had been healed, while rubbing the affected area. “What about him?’ he added, pointing to the man on the cushion.
“I’ll try,” Daniel replied, it was all he usually promised; although he had healed injuries far worse than these appeared to be. “This shouldn’t be difficult.”
He summoned the potential and focused the familiar soft blue glow. Starting with the arm, he gently rubbed the wounds, flesh healed at his touch as he moved from there to the chest area where several ribs were plainly visible. He restored both muscle and skin, and then closed the side wound and healed all the minor scratches on both legs.
Daniel rubbed his head, something was not right, there seemed to be more blood soaking into the cushion. The man’s injuries were more severe than they first appeared to be. This called for a more thorough examination.
He levitated the commanding officer off the cushion and quietly assessed the newly discovered injuries. One glance told why the Lieutenant had been so worried. Skin and muscle were ripped away from the backbone, hanging in strips, exposing vertebrate, and not a few of those were broken.
“His spinal chord is severed,” Sherree said, from somewhere close behind, stating the obvious.
Daniel glanced at the Talented. “Yes, I know,” he said, and then gently turned the general in mid-air and lowered him to the cushion.
He knew
the damage could be repaired no matter how grim the tone in Sherree’s voice. He summoned the healing potential and touched the spinal chord. The delicate nerve cluster became whole. He touched each vertebrate and the shattered bone and ruptured discs knitted and reformed. The general moaned. Unfortunately, his suffering could not be avoided, each injury had to be healed individually and any damage to the back guaranteed pain to the victim. In this case, each wound took only a moment or so to heal, shortening the ordeal was the best relief Daniel could offer.
He repaired all the internal damage and began rubbing the entire back area. New flesh formed, thus closing the final wounds. The healing was complete and had taken less time than a stroll across the street. “Let him rest. It will be awhile before he gains strength,” Daniel ordered, deciding the General would do better recovering naturally than through artificial strengthening. A similar spell to the one Sherree used would not last long, not like a blissfully deep sleep, something he yearned for but did not dare risk. Tarin Conn was not likely to be in a good mood.
“Nice job,” Sherree commented, sounding truly impressed. “He would have bled to death before I could have closed half of those wounds, much less attempt to heal his spine.”
Those emerald eyes were locked onto Daniel. Her pupils seemed to dilate in order to grant her a more intense scrutiny. She reacted similarly on other occasions, beginning when they first met. No one else seemed to provoke that reaction from her, not even her two companions. It made him feel like a mouse trapped under the gaze of a hawk “I’ve seen you heal people, your skills aren’t bad either,” he replied, while washing the General’s blood off his hands.
Sherree smiled as if she had been given the highest compliment one could receive, something perhaps rare in Aakadon.
Val came forward and stood beside the golden-haired Talented, fidgeting, as if waiting to get a word in edgewise. Physically she was taller and shapelier than Sherree, although both of them were beautiful in different ways. Val had the unmistakable look of a virgin about to offer herself as a sacrifice. She moved forward stiffly and her hands were trembling. Her lips slowly formed a smile that never seemed to touch her eyes. “Daniel, what are you planning to do with your cabin?” she asked, wide-eyed, as if approaching a hungry lion and asking what it wanted for dinner.
The moment had come and he knew what was expected. The man is supposed to ask the woman into his cabin. If she agrees, they go inside and consummate the marriage. This was apparently the sacrifice she had in mind. No person desired to be the mate of an Aakacarn, Terroll had said as much. A spell caster is too dangerous for a normal person to associate with, let alone marry. That never did explain in Daniel’s mind why Aakacarns could not marry each other. Terroll had gone on talking about responsibilities and traditions and how marriage would not work because there are three types of people, men, women, and Aakacarns. Men do not marry men, women do not marry women, and Aakacarns do not marry Aakacarns, it would be considered indecent. The words had been stated clearly by the harper and were easy enough to understand, but not the concept. Terroll’s facts were meant to be accepted as stated. Staring at the black-haired beauty in front of Daniel brought him back to reality. Terroll was right. She would go into the cabin with him, make the sacrifice, but not out of love, possibly for the relationship they once had. Daniel accepted the facts. He was Aakacarn or Aakasear, if Tarin Conn could be believed, and marriage for him was out of the question. She feared him, like any sensible woman, and there seemed to be nothing he could do about it. The only people who did not seem to be afraid of him to some degree or another were Tim and the Talenteds. He would never ask anyone to live a life of fear, especially not Val. He had known the truth of it days ago and the time had finally come to answer the question left hanging. “I’m giving the cabin to Tim. He can do what ever he wants with it.”
Val’s smile turned genuine. For the moment she was the old Val he fell in love with. She opened her arms and stepped forward, and then froze in place as if suddenly realizing what she was about to do. Her eyes widened and the fear returned. “I wish things could’ve been different,” she said, with a tear trickling down her cheek.
Different is the word that could be used to describe his life, the only thing guaranteed. There would be no happy evenings at home and hearth, no wife, no children, no family sing-a-longs. He smiled, the guitarn was still his. “Me too,” he replied, not knowing how else to respond.
“You take care,” she said, and then drew near.
Her warm lips met his right cheek and remained for an instant, then the moment was over and she pulled back smiling. It was not passionate, but it was more than he expected. She walked away, disappearing into the crowd of people waiting to be healed.
“I guess Tim receiving your cabin meant a lot to her,” Sherree said, proving the Talented knew nothing about mountain customs, not that he expected her to grasp what had occurred, she came from a different culture.
“Yes, it did. More than you know,” he replied, and then gestured with his right hand at the crowd. “I think these folks need our help.”
“Yes, you’re right,” Sherree said, nodding her head affirmatively, and then moved to help Kemer Tannet who apparently injured himself after the assault.
Hough Bess made his way to the forefront. “Daniel, would you please follow me?” he said, and then turned without giving an explanation.
Daniel honored the request and followed the mayor out of the dining area and into the kitchen, which was illuminated by four standing lamps and had been stripped of most large cooking utensils, apparently to make space for people who had been injured by Serin Gell’s fireball. Sheets were hung separating males from females. Severe burns had disfigured most of the people beyond recognition, not that identification mattered. He would heal everyone as quickly as he could. A good many of the victims seemed to have had the clothing burnt off their bodies along with much of their skin. The spell to heal burns was simple enough but on this scale it would take a great deal of potential.
He drank a tall glass of water, placed the empty glass on the counter and approached the nearest of the life threatening cases. The man did not seem to have any place on his body that was not burned. Daniel summoned the potential and focused, ignoring the blue cast his energy threw over the entire area, it seemed to shock a few people who were watching him, although everyone should be used to seeing it by now. He touched the top of the man’s head and gently rubbed the seared flesh. New unblemished skin appeared as he healed the facial burns and he froze for an instant when the victim’s identity became clear. Henri Polkat moaned, but did not fully regain consciousness, which was a blessing. Daniel healed the neck burns and the innkeeper woke in a grimace of pain. He could do little more for the man than he was already doing, the suffering would have to be endured.
He could not heal the burns any faster, although he wished it possible with all of his heart. He healed the left shoulder and arm, and then the right shoulder and arm. Skin appeared as he rubbed the chest area. His hands moved deftly to the abdominal region and then to the right and left hip. He healed the groin and worked from the crotch down the left leg to the foot and then repeated the motion on the right.
The healing was far from complete; he still had the entire back side to cover. He levitated the innkeeper high enough to turn and lower him back to the cushion. The burns on the back and buttocks were every bit as severe as those on the chest and abdomen had been. He went to work, caressing the baked flesh and leaving healthy skin in its place. He healed the thighs and breathed a sigh of relief as Henri stood up on his own, albeit weekly. The healing was complete.
Lydia grabbed a sheet off the counter and wrapped it around her husband. Tears flowed freely from her red and puffy eyes. She mouthed the words, “Thank you,” not having the voice to speak up.
Henri cleared his throat. “Thanks Daniel,” he said, and then was escorted away by his wife.
Daniel chose another patient and knelt beside her. The hungry
flames had cooked all but her feet.
“Val doesn’t know yet and neither does Tim. She didn’t want them to see her like this, that’s why I sent Tim out with the pitcher. If he had known it was her..,”
Daniel looked up as his mother’s voice trailed off and intense grief wrinkled her normally smooth brow. He felt a lump in his throat and tried to swallow. Her words were identification enough. This was Gina who lay near death. A tear formed and he wiped it away, refusing to allow another to squeeze out. She was in terrible pain and knowing made him want to scream. He struggled to form some sort of clinical detachment, to divorce his emotions. “Don’t’ worry, I’ll make her well,” he said, reassuring himself.
“I know, son,” his mother replied, in a voice without a trace of doubt.
He drank another glass of water and went to work. Potential surged into him and even the thrill of holding and controlling such power did little to ease the ache in his heart. He caressed the top of her head, forming new skin beneath his touch. With each pass of his hand, a face slowly took shape out of the ruined flesh. He touched her seared nose, restored it, then her cheeks, making her smooth skin and light complexion beautiful as ever.
Her eyes opened and she screamed. He winced, knowing the agony she felt. Tears flowed freely as her body shook with the force of her shuddering wails. She was better off asleep. Daniel remembered the spell Cenni Quen had inadvertently taught him and summoned the potential and Gina’s eyes closed.
Daniel, struggling for detachment, took a deep breath and caused her hair to grow to the length she liked. He focused on the clinical aspects of healing, restoring her throat, and then healing the burnt flesh of her left shoulder, arm, and chest. She had nothing he had not seen before, although coming upon her and Val at the pond had been an accident. Funny, he had not thought of marriage before that incident. He found Gina one other time at the pond years earlier. The random thoughts were not helping his detachment. He shook his head and continued with the healing.
To Cast the First Spell Page 26