“They are usually led by a medica or two. Ask any Marshall or Circlet how they heal and they will either not know how or give you a wrong answer.”
“Arrogant,” Bri murmured.
“Ayes, both me and them. All of them.” He made a wide gesture, his eyelashes lowered halfway.
“I was Summoned with my sister, my twin.”
Nodding he said, “Lucky, that. The Castle healers got ahold of her, they should be satisfied with her, leave you alone. We’ll have to confront the city and town medicas, equally arrogant. But you can do that. You’ll win.”
He sat and stared at her, cocked his head, narrowed his eyes, as if he were measuring her Song, then his eyelids closed and his muttering transformed into a snore. His body relaxed and he slid off the stool right under the table.
Bri stood. Her mind spun and her legs buckled. She was more tired than she’d realized. The fumes had gotten to her, as had the long day, the healing—that fabulous connection to the universe through Zeres.
Now she’d let her guard down, sleep crept up on her. Her body demanded rest. Her brain was in no shape to think and her mental shields had vanished.
Song filled her, pretty notes coming from Zeres, raucous undertones left over from the bar. It was silent now and she couldn’t pinpoint when that had happened. How long had she been floating like a star?
She shivered. It was very late or very early. In any case it was dark and she was tired. Zeres had curled onto his side on the floor, his mouth open but not snoring, passed out. The door remained shut. Bri put her head on her arms and laughed-cried. Wouldn’t you know it. Even here she’d fallen in with the alternative medicine faction-of-one. She fell asleep.
Sevair hated being at the Castle, disapproved of by all. Hated waiting in a small anteroom for Elizabeth to wake. Naturally word had leaked during the long night of searching that the city had misplaced its Exotique. A Chevalier or two had snitched. Circlet Jaquar had continued to be sympathetic.
The Marshalls eyed him with amused disdain. The other Exotiques had refused to awaken Elizabeth, saying that she needed sleep and through her link with her twin, would know if Bri was in any danger. That was something, at least.
So now he sat in his formerly-best-robe for Elizabeth.
Bri had still not been found. They’d traced her movements. She and the male fey-coo-cu had left her house and gone to the Nom de Nom, then other taverns.
Both feycoocus had vanished, too.
Sevair ground his teeth. Why couldn’t Bri have stayed in?
Because she was a woman always on the move. He shouldn’t have expected that she’d stay at home. The Citymasters hadn’t planned to leave her alone during the first evening. He was to stay with her until she retired, ready to answer any questions, arrange for any additional needs.
But the guilds had been upset by events and no one had taken his place, something everyone was chastising themselves for now. The Citymasters were holding off on a door-to-door search until Sevair spoke with Elizabeth. His mouth turned down. Every single one of his colleagues had shown relief when it was pointed out that Elizabeth knew Sevair best, and he should be the one to break the news to her. He hadn’t seen such a unity among them in the three years he’d been a Citymaster.
At least he waited alone. Everyone else was in a council, talking about the discovery of frinkweed. Sevair figured that the Marshalls would soon be visiting their home estates to see how rampant the plant was. Independent Chevaliers would be hired to examine the north for the frinkweed, especially near the remaining gaps in the border fence line.
The door across from him opened and Elizabeth stood on the threshold, smooth shoulder-length honey-colored hair tidy, dressed in a medica’s summer robes. The sun was shining today, had already burnt off mist and was warming the ground. Only Sevair’s internal weather was gray and dreary.
“Citymaster Masif,” she said cooly.
He stood and bowed. “Please call me Sevair. May I have a word with you?”
She blinked. “Of course.” Stepping back from the door, she led the way back into her suite.
The sitting room contained a lot of purple, bright in the streaming sunlight. Elizabeth took a chair, twitched her robes around her. Not clothes she was used to wearing, no matter how good she looked in them.
“How can I help you?” she asked.
Taking a deep breath, he eased it out. “We have misplaced Bri.”
16
Laughter rolled from Elizabeth. “Oh, this is rich.” She shook her head, still grinning. “Our parents were constantly misplacing Bri.”
That made him feel slightly better.
Elizabeth tilted her head. “She’s fine.”
He cleared his throat. “Can you tell me where she is?”
Pressing her fingers to her temples and closing her eyes, Elizabeth was silent for a moment. “She’s not answering me telepathically. I think she’s asleep. And she’s definitely in Castleton.” Elizabeth opened her lashes and smiled.
She was so like Bri in looks and the occasional expression, but so unlike in manner, that Sevair swung from thinking they appeared identical to believing they didn’t look at all the same.
Elizabeth stood. “Bri’s okay. I think I’d like breakfast in Castleton. We can wait for her to wake up, or I can trace her. I’m famished.”
Elizabeth’s casualness reassured Sevair. “I flew up, and would be honored to show you your home in Castleton.”
Wariness appeared in her eyes. She opened her mouth. Sevair forestalled her with a raised palm. “I know, neither you nor your sister intend to remain here like the other Exotiques.”
With a little release of breath of her own, Elizabeth nodded.
As Sevair led her to the courtyard, he felt a twinge of relief that the Citymasters had planned that breakfast would be the introduction of the city medicas to their Exotique. Plenty of food. The healers had been told Bri was missing, but he was sure they’d all show up anyway.
Mud greeted Elizabeth with a quiet whicker, and no one else questioned their leaving. The flight down to Castleton was quick and silent. Elizabeth didn’t feel at all like Bri before him. As soon as they dismounted, Mud was aloft again, and flying to her stable. Sevair sensed that the volaran was embarrassed that she didn’t have enough emotional connection with Bri to find the Exotique.
Elizabeth murmured approval when she saw the house, her Song lilting with pleasure. “It’s perfectly lovely,” she said.
“Thank you,” Sevair said. He paused in the kitchen to tell one of the two serving women to cancel the search for Bri. Her sister would find Bri after breakfast.
The scent of food—eggs and fresh bread—permeated the house, as did voices. When they stopped by the dining room, they saw there was the entire half-dozen Castleton medicas, along with four Citymasters.
Everyone rose and bowed to Elizabeth. She flushed. “Thank you.” She smiled. “I see we haven’t started eating yet.” She went to the empty chair at the head of the table and sat. Both chairs flanking her were empty; Sevair took the right.
A servant bustled around, lifting the tops from chafing dishes and scooping out fluffy eggs, started the bread basket around the table.
The town medicas near Elizabeth peppered her with questions regarding the day before and her training at the Castle.
The door opened and slammed shut. A moment later Bri stood on the threshold, hands on hips. A strong scent of liquor emanated from her. She appeared tired. Her clothes were wrinkled and dirty. “Glad you’re all having a good meal. Looks like you all had a good night. I was kidnapped.”
Cool relief was followed by hot rage in Sevair. He dropped his cutlery. Outrage and fury spiked Songs all around him.
Elizabeth remained placid. She gestured to the chair at her left. “Kidnapped or not, I see you’ve landed on your feet.”
Bri snorted, frowned at her sister, and stalked to the table. When she lifted the top of a dish, she smelled mouth-watering eggs. “I can see
you’re distraught.”
“I could tell nothing was wrong with you and underneath your irritation, you’re excited,” Elizabeth said.
“Kidnapped.” Sevair rose, walked over as he examined her. The other people in the room stared. Most wore medica garb. Checking her chakras—chimes?
“I’m fine,” Bri said, feeling the ache of her body spent sleeping on a cold stone floor. When she’d awakened, Zeres was still sleeping, and the lock spell on the door was gone. Once she’d found a main street, she’d seen the guildhall and the Castle on the bluff and had wended her way to the house. As soon as she’d drawn near, she’d known Elizabeth was there and a weight had lifted.
“Her chimes ring true and strong and Powerful,” said a medica.
Sevair’s palms warmed her shoulders, ran down her arms and cradled her hands in his own large, calloused ones. The stone carver determining the soundness of his material?
“A friend, concerned,” he said. “A sculptor thinking about the loveliness of a woman.” He answered her thought. He’d gotten at least the gist of it directly from her mind. She blinked up at him.
“I heard you spent much of the evening with Koz and other Chevaliers at the Nom de Nom.” Dropping one of his hands, the other closed over her fingers and tugged her to the table. Pulling away, she waved him to his seat, then filled a plate. She met Elizabeth’s gaze with a smile and her twin eased. Everyone in the Drystan family cherished breakfast.
A female Citymaster lifted the top of a covered dish to show thick slices of bacon.
Elizabeth said, “The dishes are…bespelled to heat.” Poor twin, her view of the world was taking a hit. Bri sent her a wave of love heart to heart, received one back.
“You spent time at the Nom de Nom?” Sevair prodded.
“Ayes,” she smiled at him. “And the Vert Chevalier, and the Stella Luna and the Bier Cruche, and the Risible Chien.” She brushed at her clothes. “I don’t know the name of the last one, but I was only in a back room.” A flash of images had accompanied her retelling—Koz, of course, from the Nom de Nom, but also the trophies. Bri eyed Elizabeth. Had she seen the monsters yet?
As if sensing her strain, Elizabeth said, “You’re safe, eat.”
Bri pushed tired, irritable thoughts away. “Yes.”
With one last clench of his jaw, Sevair said, “Tell me who laid hands on you and I’ll see that he—or she—regrets every minute for the rest of his life.”
Bri looked at him, dressed formally again, she realized. The rest of the table was too—citymasters and medicas. “That won’t be necessary.”
Sevair frowned. “We were worried about you.”
“I can see that.” Bri gazed pointedly at everyone who was tucking into breakfast.
“Bri’s grumpy in the mornings,” Elizabeth said. “I told them you were all right.” Her face tightened. “Kidnapped?”
“Yes, seems there’s someone alienated from the medical establishment—” she waved at the medicas “—who believes they’re handling the sickness wrong and has better ideas.”
Elizabeth closed her eyes, gave a tiny shake of her head. “Only you, Bri.”
“Yeah, that passed through my mind.”
“Who is this person who questions our methods?” asked one of the city medicas stiffly.
After swallowing the wonderful eggs—a touch of cheese and other spices—Bri said, “His name is Zeres. He’ll probably be along.” If he was really determined to help, if he really believed what he said the night before.
Scowls of disgust circled the table.
“How dare he do such a thing as kidnap you and babble his stupidities in your ear!” one of the male medicas said. His fork clinked his plate as his fingers shook.
“Thought that would be your reaction,” Bri said. She ate a few bites more, said, “Please excuse us.” To Elizabeth, Bri said in English, “I’m inclined to believe the guy.”
“What! Of course you are. You’re used to thinking all standard medical practices are hidebound.”
Bri finished a piece of bread. “You’ve got that flip-flopped. Standard Western medical practice thinks what I can do with my gift of healing hands is pure BS.” She met Elizabeth’s eyes steadily. “If my practices had been acceptable, I’d have been right there with you through medical school.” She shifted her shoulders, letting past disappointments roll away.
“But here they practice like you do!” Elizabeth said. “Must you always be contrary?”
Scooping eggs onto another slice of wonderful bread sprinkled with seeds, Bri said, “The bottom line is, he’s right, these people haven’t been able to cure the sickness. They called us across dimensions so we could do it.” She switched to mental and emotional communication. I felt this incredible connection with him, heard this fabulous Song, like no one else we’ve met.
Elizabeth stared at her, her own piece of bread halfway to her mouth. You’ve met someone?
Not a sexual link. Bri frowned. Almost a familial connection, like a mentor. She tried to send Elizabeth the feeling she’d had when she’d been with Zeres, the strong Song of him, that sucking into darkness, but her memories were dim.
“Oh,” Elizabeth said.
A cough called them back to avidly watching medicas. The man who’d spoken earlier, a lean man with stern face and respectable wings of gold in his hair, caught Bri’s gaze. “Introducing you to the people yesterday was good. Morale has been low, the atmosphere fearful. But today we must begin your training.”
His gaze shifted from Elizabeth, neat and tidy and clean and smelling like good herbs to Bri in her mass of wrinkles, doing the red tunic with white cross uniform no honor. Comparisons again, and here! Exactly why she trained in massage therapy and other alternative medicines somewhere else than Denver where her sister went to medical school.
He turned a gimlet eye on Bri and smiled in a way she didn’t quite like. “We’ll adjourn to the parlor.”
Bri muttered to Elizabeth, “Looks like they’re still going to try to whip me into shape today.”
Elizabeth patted her shoulder, smiled widely. “That’s because I was such a good student yesterday.”
“Uh-huh.”
“There is so much you must learn.” A female medica fluttered her hands. Equally plain they’d have preferred that Elizabeth had come to the city.
Eggs dried in her throat. She straightened until her spine was as rigid as Elizabeth’s, and swept a gaze at the medicas sitting at the table. She could envision them flapping around her like a bunch of red birds, full of “Your training. Your sister. You must do this and you must do that.”
Setting her silverware down, she dabbed at her lips with a thick damask napkin, took a sip of water and spoke, “I am not like my twin, who is well-trained in the practices of our land, and an exceptional physician.” She glanced around again. “You must have deduced that our portion of our world does not view medicine as you do, and Elizabeth is unaccustomed to using only her hands and innate Power to heal.” Bri lifted her hands stared at them, backs and palms. “I have used my healing hands all my life, and trained in alternative medicine.”
“Yes, but—”
“I’m sure you’re full of things I must do and learn. I healed someone of the disease yesterday—did any of you? Elizabeth treated wounds of Chevaliers—did any of you?”
Brows had lowered again, expressions of wary stubbornness molded the medicas’ faces.
“I’m willing to work with you, to learn from you, and to discover with Elizabeth and you how to cure this sickness. This is an exchange of techniques and information.”
Before the silence could thicken, and clash continue, Sevair said, “There’s news. We believe we have determined where the sickness has come from. Frinks. A plant we call frinkweed.”
Everyone except the Castle medica seemed surprised.
“I found it last night in a farmer’s field. A small moss-like plant with white bell-like blossoms.”
Bri gestured to the front of the
house. “There’s some plants like that outside in the square.”
“I know,” Sevair said heavily. He shared glances with the other Citymasters. “We know. We’re spreading the word.”
“Probably not as fast as the damn plant spreads,” said one of the male medicas.
Sevair’s jaw flexed. “We can only do our best.”
“As you have always done,” an older woman soothed.
“I’ve given the information to Circlet Jaquar Dumont. He took samples last night. He did not recognize the plant, has seen none on Alf Island.”
“Exotique Circlet Marian has lived on Alf Island for over a year,” someone said.
“And the frinks stopped falling with the rain where Exotiques were,” Sevair said, turning to look at Bri and Elizabeth in turn. “Another blessing bestowed simply by your presence.”
Bri blinked. No one had ever said anything so sweet to her.
“So Jaquar and Marian are gone?” Elizabeth asked with a tinge of relief.
“No. They called other Circlets to come from the islands to consult and take samples.” He cleared his throat. “I was told that no Circlet has had a gift for botany for generations.”
“Perhaps the very reason the Dark chose this method for its plague,” a medica said.
“Probably,” Sevair set his plate aside.
Lifting her mug of tea to her mouth—welcome after the scent of alcohol that coated her nostrils and tongue—Bri finished the last sip as the serving women came in and cleared plates. They’d have been listening. She used her napkin, then rose. “I’ll take a quick bath and change my clothes and be right with you. Are there any more people with this frink-sickness?”
“We do not know,” a female medica said primly.
Bri puffed out a breath. “Then we might be ahead of this, for once.” Her shirt stuck to her back—sweat, or the residue of ale that had transferred from the floor of the tavern to her clothing while she slept. Or droplets from Zeres’s flask and tankard as he’d gestured with it.
Elizabeth stiffened beside her. “A tub. You have a tub?”
“You don’t?”
Keepers of the Flame Page 14