On alternate mornings Bri went to the Castle with Zeres, still irascible, and suffered through learning and healing circles with the medicas. Otherwise she stayed in Castleton in the morning and worked with Zeres and his “unconventional” teachings. Since all medical science on Lladrana was strange, Bri had trouble discerning the differences in technique. Elizabeth didn’t.
Elizabeth stayed up at the Castle, and, as far as Bri knew, slept in Faucon’s bed, or he slept in hers. From the happy glow and sound of her mental thoughts and emotions, he was loving and supportive. Her self-confidence was reviving, and everyone at the Castle thought the affair was a good thing. Bri feared she or Faucon would be hurt, but kept quiet. Her twin was happy and that was the most important thing.
There were no more calls to battle, and the Chevaliers had divided into two camps regarding the strange sickness. One ignored it, like all the other horrors and dangers. The other seemed to dwell on the fact that something they couldn’t see to fight might kill them later.
In the afternoons, Elizabeth flew down with Faucon on his volaran and held healing sessions—office hours—at the Castleton house. While they were working, Faucon was seeing to the business of his seaside estates.
Bri and Elizabeth and Faucon and whoever dropped by after the healing, ate early dinners. Visitors included Citymasters, guild heads, town and Castle medicas, Circlets, Exotiques, a whole host of interesting people.
Then Faucon and Elizabeth would return to the Marshalls’ Castle and Bri would take part in the evening saunter that Castleton folks liked. Or fly with Nuare.
Her second flight hadn’t been long, either, just around the pleasant rolling hills and plains near the Castle, but had kept her eyes wide. Calli rigged a harness and seat for Bri that didn’t bother Nuare. She knew she had no hope of controlling the big bird. So far her only options had been to deny the bird and herself flight, or to ruffle Nuare’s feathers by choosing Mud. At least the roc respected her now. She thought.
Sevair wasn’t quite underfoot, but definitely made his presence known. Often he ate with Elizabeth and Faucon and her, giving details of his work on the city hall or the city temple or the city walls, showing plans of new buildings or houses. Or explaining the renovation of Bri’s tower to Faucon. The work on her place—Bri was careful not to call it her home, even in her own mind—proceeded well. Nothing too major was involved except for the garden-level bathing area. That had been so dank and dark that Bri had only gone to the bottom of the stairs, taken one glance and returned to the upper levels. She’d never liked living below ground, always wanted somewhere she could look out over a town.
When Bri had spoken of transferring furniture from the town house, Sevair had nixed the idea. Instead, he’d had the Citymasters turn out their attics and the Castle chief of staff check the storage areas for good, solid furniture of the period when the original Circlet had lived there. Refinishing had taken only a couple of days. When the pieces were delivered Bri made a big deal over them, satisfying the Citymasters. Most didn’t understand why she preferred the tower to the lovely house, but were happy that she’d found a place in their city.
And Bri had a housekeeper-maid! That was an unexpected pleasure. A young, large, simple, striped haired woman who liked working for an Exotique, was fascinated by the roc, and thought living “in a room of her very own” on the second floor of the tower was the best thing that ever happened to her. She liked having the small kitchen to herself, too, no one to direct or criticize her. One of the Citymasters had officiously assured Bri that the woman was reliable and a hard worker. As for Bri, the woman’s delight at the wonders every new day gave her pleasure.
Then the Exotiques had pressured her into a party, to show her gratitude for the people of Castleton. Bri couldn’t say no, and Elizabeth had reacted to the idea with amusement and enthusiasm. Bri really couldn’t say no then. She invited everyone she’d ever met.
The party was a success. The guests seemed to accept that this living in a city wall tower was just another Exotique quirk and not a specific-to-Bri-oddness. Though she’d always prided herself on her uniqueness, acceptance felt good. She was in such a responsible position and felt for the first time that she should be an example for others. There was pride in that, too, that her gifts were recognized and prized here.
Later, Faucon sat next to Elizabeth and played with her fingers. Only the Exotiques, their men and Koz remained.
Alexa cleared her throat. Everyone looked at her, snuggled in Bastien’s lap. It didn’t undermine her authority. “We’ve consulted with the City and Townmasters,” she said, and Bri’s insides gave a little jump, Sevair stiffened beside her. He crossed his arms. “Is that so? Without me.”
Frowning at him, sliding a sly look at Bri, Alexa said, “You’ve been busy with your own work and affairs and the discussion was all an extrapolation of your ideas.” She hopped up and went to the three-foot map of Lladrana that was displayed at an incline on a table against one wall of the room. Large and green, it was animated like the huge battle map up at the Castle.
Alexa gestured everyone to come over. Bastien groaned in mock weariness and rose from the couch. Everyone followed. Bri rose last, Sevair close behind her.
“Show the sickness.” Alexa tapped the map.
Large virulent red spots glowed on the map. Bri’s stomach contracted. She’d really, really liked that map—now looking at it would never give the same pleasure. Another war map, this one for her, the medica.
“The frink sickness is worse than I’d imagined,” Elizabeth said, eyes fixed on the red dots in the cities, the pinkish wash across the north. Her muscles tensed.
The only people who could cure it were Bri and Zeres and maybe herself. Nausea coated her stomach at her helplessness. She was thinking fast, considering, discarding options, wanted to talk fast, spill everything she thought, brainstorm. She’d learned not to do that. “Not a medieval plague, but we’re working up to an epidemic. We must train the medicas.”
“We’ve been trying,” Bri said.
“Show frinkweed.” A web the color of dead gray slugs laced the north, nearly to Castleton in the middle, ragged wisps reaching into the heart of Lladrana. Bri flinched.
Calli traced the lower end of the mountainous spur where she and Marrec lived. “Not here,” she let out a breath. “Not near us or ours, thank the Song.”
“You Exotiques kill the frinks by your very presence,” Sevair said. “As if they can’t take your alien Power.”
Touching the depression to the southeast of her home, Calli said, “No frinkweed in Volaran Valley, either.”
Marrec wrapped his arms around Calli. “We’re going to lose more people in the north. Not many villages there anymore, just individual hermits too stupid to move, but there are more of them than I thought.” He pointed to the northwest. “Where my old village stood and where we all fought so hard last year is clean.” His breathing was uneven. “When this is done, it will be a prime location to live.”
“Magnify the north,” Bastien said. The top of the map was projected larger, in greater detail. Like Marrec had said, the frinkweed vanished into individual spots. Only three small villages were still inhabited below the towering mountains twice the size of the Rockies.
“Look at the border,” Bastien said. “We’ve been fighting in the mountains all year long. The land with new fenceposts and where the magical forcefield is strong is pretty clear. Alexa’s little feet are all over those battlefields.” He kissed her hard.
“I’ve hosted Exotique visitors at both my estates,” Faucon smiled, touching the map with a tender finger on a peninsular seaside place and a location in the middle of a curved bay in the south. “Such a great return for simple hospitality.”
Marrec cleared his throat. “Don’t know that it was simple. I had foods I’d never even heard of before.”
Faucon shrugged. “I’m rich.” He squeezed Elizabeth and she welcomed the comfort. Then he flung an arm around Bri and hugged her
a moment, did the same to the other Coloradan women. “Wealthy in my friends.”
“Ayes,” Jaquar said. “Our islands have mostly been spared, too. Only the populated ones had frinkweed. Marian and Koz have visited many, so the spread of the frinkweed was halted. No sickness from the frinkweed spores yet, but that may be because of the Power of the Circlets.”
“I hope so,” Marian said.
Koz said with surprise, “I helped stop the spread of frinkweed!”
“Ayes,” Jaquar said. He tapped the round island next to where Marian and Jaquar and Bossgond lived. “You bought this island. No frinkweed there now and I’m sure there was. What of your inland estates?”
Stepping closer to the map, Koz said, “Nope, neither of the others is infected either.”
“Two?” Jaquar asked.
“My brother the real estate mogul,” Marian said. “Nothing around Singer’s Abbey, of course. No frinkweed or sickness.”
“She takes care of her own,” Alexa said grudgingly.
“Watch,” Jaquar said. “Map, show the destruction of frinkweed.” As they watched, a chartreuse green ate up a tentacle of gray. Jaquar’s expression was bright with teeth and hard eyes. “We developed an insect that loves frinkweed.”
“Already?” Marrec asked.
“When you have many personally threatened scholars working on a matter, individually or in groups, you get results,” Marian said with satisfaction. Her forehead furrowed. “But there was something…Map display the pattern of the frinkweed only.”
Again the deadly net, one thread being unraveled. Clear spots that they’d all listed.
“Troque city on the eastern escarpment has clear spots,” Marian said.
“Calli’s been to Troque,” Marrec said.
“Oh.” Marian pointed to a tiny coastal area north of the shared city of Krache on the southern border. “What of this?”
“No frinkweed around Seamasters’ Market? That’s odd,” Faucon said. “There’s only isolated patches of frinkweed in the south.”
“But Krache has some, and sickness too, I noticed.”
Faucon shook his head. “Don’t know what caused it, then.”
Alexa cleared her throat. “Tea anyone?” She’d gone to the sideboard and was pouring a cup of her own.
Elizabeth met Bri’s eyes. They want something. Here it comes.
24
Yes, Bri said, then aloud, “You want me to make a round of the cities, don’t you?” She held her body easily as she said the words, but Elizabeth knew Bri was scared. Bri traveled on her own timetable and for her own reasons.
“It would be best if Elizabeth went, too,” Sevair said tightly.
Faucon slipped an arm around her waist. She didn’t lean on him. She wanted to, but didn’t. “If Elizabeth goes, I go.”
“We need Elizabeth here,” Alexa said.
“And…the length of time…,” Marian hesitated.
“I’ll say it,” Alexa said unflinchingly. “I made the rounds, too, when I first came.” Her mouth twisted. “‘Hey-yah, hey-yah, Come See The Strange Exotique.”
Bastien swept her up in his arms. “I thought that travel went extremely well.”
“You would. Jerk. Put me down.”
He slid her down his body, kept an arm around her. Alexa continued, “We want you to spend several days in each major town, Troque, the Lladranan part of Krache, Coquille on the Coast, a few hours or two in the villages.”
“Healing all the time,” Elizabeth said stiffly, reached her hand out to her twin. Bri grasped it and Elizabeth felt dismay, loneliness. Glancing around, Elizabeth saw that all the Exotiques’ men had a supportive grasp on their women. Bri stood alone.
Sevair hovered nearby, expression serious, eyes watchful as if ready to defend her; did she realize that?
“So she’ll need to rest, too,” Alexa said.
“Which means I won’t be part of the experiment to leave a note for our parents.” Bri’s aura flared with fearful streaks.
“Perhaps we can arrange for her to come when we’re ready,” Elizabeth said, squeezing her hand.
Marian gestured to the map which showed the red of sickness again. “We are losing people every day.”
Bri flinched, matching Elizabeth.
“When do you want me to start?” Bri asked hoarsely.
“The sooner you go, the sooner you can come back.” Elizabeth stepped away from Faucon to hug Bri.
Bri closed her eyes and hugged Elizabeth back. Elizabeth felt the rapid pump of her heart. Calm.
Bri breathed deeply and said, “Not tomorrow. The day after.”
“Certainly.” Sevair put a hand on Bri’s shoulder and after one last hug that proved Bri was stronger than Elizabeth remembered, she stepped back.
Sevair said, “It will take me that long to consult with my colleagues who have—”
“—left you out of the loop,” Alexa said.
Sevair repeated the phrase. “Left me out of the loop. The circle of discussion and decision.” He nodded. “Another good Exotique Terre phrase.”
He looked at Bri. “We had planned a trip for our Exotique, but not so soon. When the situation had stabilized.”
“Guess they think things have stabilized pretty quickly,” Marrec, Calli’s husband said, smiled. “When Exotiques aren’t stirring circumstances up into an unpredictable froth, they’re fixing things quickly.” He shook his head. “All a person can say is that with Exotiques around, change is rapid.”
“Let’s pray so,” Elizabeth said, looking at the map again. She hadn’t wanted to think of people dying outside Castleton. She wasn’t accustomed to thinking of people without doctors or medical help.
It chilled her to the soul. She’d work harder.
The next day Bri packed. Stuffed her solar backpack with two medica outfits. The weather continued to be gray or with weak sunlight, though Colorado was most likely reaching the nineties. She couldn’t say that she liked hot weather. On the other hand, her batteries would have certainly taken a lot less time to charge. Denver. Bright sunlight on an average of three hundred days a year. She’d missed that, had tired of gray days, looked forward to returning home.
Elizabeth was subdued at their afternoon session, probably thinking about all the people who were dying without help.
That was a hard emotional concept to accept.
Bri knew her sister had worked through the fact that she couldn’t save everyone. That some of her patients would die. She probably hadn’t confronted the fact that people in the same country would die because they had no doctors or hospitals near.
Bri’d learned that lesson. Hell, she’d been in some refugee camps where people would die a few tents over because there weren’t enough medical—or healing—personnel.
Elizabeth had insisted that the Castle and city medicas work with them, and Zeres, as they healed.
During the healing session, she and Elizabeth tried. The medicas willingly joined the healingstream, worked on the whole body and the crown chakra-chime, saw and understood the deadly gray web. But the Lladranans didn’t get it. They could follow and help, but their solo attempts at healing didn’t work.
The day went from bad to worse when the Castle alarm sounded and volarans and Chevaliers lifted to face and fight the horrors.
Bri heard Elizabeth’s quick gasp, but her sister kept her hands steady on their patient, continued to heal.
Calli and Marrec don’t fly, Bri began listing their friends. Koz does. Alexa and Bastien are not on this rotation.
Faucon is, Elizabeth said.
Bri thought of speaking, knew Elizabeth was probably analyzing her affair with the man on an hourly basis, and kept her peace.
Since the town and countryfolk knew this was Bri’s last day in Castleton, anyone who had the slightest imagining that they’d contracted the frink sickness had come to the surgery. The healers had dealt with several cases of flu, some intestinal disorders, and a migraine, worked until night fell.
“We didn’t lose anyone on the battlefield, but one of my men has the mutated frink sickness.”
“Let’s go,” said Elizabeth, and ran out to where Faucon’s fresh volaran waited.
Mud appeared and Bri mounted; Zeres heaved himself onto the sturdy volaran. Mud could handle two for the short ride.
The rest of the medicas hurried up to the Castle.
Bri followed Elizabeth into the healing chamber, wishing she’d tried to pace herself earlier. A couple of medicas stood by. The man’s partner, also male, was there as well as the other Exotiques, all worried.
Elizabeth strode to the table, set her hands on the Chevalier. Bri put her palms on his laboring chest. As they had done all day, they linked easily. The web was throughout his body. It would take a tidal wave of healing to clear the sickness. Bri settled into her balance, connected with the healingstream, and began.
Look, Elizabeth said. A tumor beneath his breastbone.
Huh, said Bri. It was a solid chunk of gray about an inch in diameter, but it appeared like a miniature brain, with folds and crevasses. The web spun out from it. Stop the spread, first, as usual. But the pinpoint of a frinkweed web wasn’t nearly as big or as threatening, as this Chevalier battle sickness.
He died under her hands. Bri actually saw a transparent something—his soul?—wisp up from his body and dissipate.
Utter shock hit her so hard her teeth snapped together.
“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth was saying. “This new sickness was too well advanced and malignant for us to heal him.”
Bri stared at her hands on the unbreathing chest. Her gift had never failed her. Never. Sometimes it had been wobbly. Sometimes, like now apparently, she couldn’t help. But she never tried to heal if she knew she couldn’t help, just sat and talked and comforted.
Keepers of the Flame Page 22