That’s good. Elizabeth, can you come to Castleton, please? I need you.
Ayes, I’ll be there in a bit.
Elizabeth, I need you now! Then she just let go. Allowed the hysterical shriek bubbling through her out, into the tower, echoing through her mind.
I’m coming!
Curling into a tight ball—as if she could deflect danger that way when it was already inside her!—Bri shoved her fist against her lips and tried to think through terror.
Now she was stronger—no, more rested, she could already feel the sickness sapping her strength—she reached for the healingstream. It flooded her, and the little tendril stopped growing, but was not defeated.
Then Elizabeth was pounding up the stairs. What is it?
Bri straightened, looked into her sister’s eyes. “I have the sickness.”
“No!” Elizabeth said.
“Yes, and I can’t stop it.”
Color drained from Elizabeth’s face. With trembling hands she examined Bri’s eyes, took her pulse, checked her heart.
Then they were linked together and scrutinizing Bri’s body and the evil kernel with the sprouting tendril.
Elizabeth breathed deeply. “Calm,” she said and Bri knew she meant it for herself, too.
“All right, together we link to your healingstream,” Elizabeth said.
Bri had lost the rush of her source, had closed the door, and now fumbled for the healingstream as never before. Elizabeth summoned her starfire and Bri felt its heat inside her, cleansing her. Bri added her healingstream to batter the kernel.
Nothing affected it.
“A shield,” Elizabeth said. Sweat trickled down her temples. “Let’s encase it in a forcefield. We can do that.”
They couldn’t destroy it. Bri heard the hysterical gibbering in the back of her mind, locked it down. Following Elizabeth’s lead, she surrounded the seed with pressure to keep it from growing. Elizabeth’s starfire and Power enveloped it first, then Bri added hers.
Then they sat and stared at each other. Bri said the words neither wanted to acknowledge. “It won’t stay that small forever.” She put a fist to her chest. “I can feel it struggling to grow. What are we going to do?”
Elizabeth’s gaze was as fearful as her own. “I don’t know.” She pressed her lips together, then spoke. “We’ll find a way to kill it.”
Bri shrugged. “I don’t think we can.”
Waving her hands, Elizabeth said, “How did you get it?”
Confession time. “When we attempted to heal Zeres, I tried to take his sickness as my own.”
“Empathic healing. Our gift hasn’t ever worked like that,” Elizabeth’s words were sharp bullets.
“I know. But…but…it was one thing we hadn’t tried, and Zeres had almost destroyed Broullard’s…”
“This goes back to Broullard!” Elizabeth rubbed her temples. “It’s been a hideous day. One of the worst of my life. Faucon’s grieving, the Castle people are grieving, you’re grieving.”
Bri guessed they weren’t mentioning the awful battle. “You’re grieving.”
Elizabeth swallowed. “I lost my emotional distance for sure.”
“Happens occasionally.”
“Yes.”
“Zeres didn’t deserve to have that horrible thing inside him.”
Elizabeth went to the basin of water and dipped her hankie and washed. “Neither do you. Neither do I. The question is, what are we going to do about it?”
“We’ve trained medicas, but we never found a cure—a vaccine or pill people could take.”
“Don’t you think I know that!” Elizabeth snapped. Bri could almost see her grabbing for her professionalism. Her back rose and fell with deep breaths, then she turned. “Natural organisms—bacteria, viri, yes, our culture has found ways to destroy them, ‘cure’ patients. But evil? The Dark? How can we find a cure for that? A ‘good’ pill?” She came and sat down on the bed, put her arm around Bri. “It’s as if the Dark can’t mutate living organisms, can’t have this sickness be contagious. A boon for us.”
“Right.” Bri licked her dry lips. “I’ve been wondering about the Snap,” she said softly.
Elizabeth stiffened.
“If the Snap comes, how can we return home with this thing in me?” Bri whispered, touching between her breasts.
“We can’t.” Elizabeth’s voice was unsteady, then she repeated the words more strongly. “We can’t. Earth can’t provide a cure for this disease. If it could have I’d have convinced someone to send us back and return with a medical miracle.”
Bri’s fingers tightened around Elizabeth’s. “I can’t take this back home. Who knows what would happen? It doesn’t seem to be contagious here, but who knows whether it would be there?”
“I am not taking any bit of the Dark to Earth. Never!” Elizabeth said.
“So I’ve stranded us here.” Bri swallowed.
Elizabeth hunched a shoulder, but her lips trembled. “We have a choice. We will ‘choose’ to stay. Our lives can be good here. And we will find a cure for that tumor inside you.” She sniffed, straightened her spine, which reminded Bri not to slouch and she did the same.
“Finding a cure for the frink sickness and this disease, that we can give to individuals, is our task,” Bri said, her mouth twisted. “And I’m the one to do it, find the cure for myself, teach others, regular people.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t want anyone to know for a while,” Bri mumbled, letting her head drop.
Elizabeth hugged her. “No. We’ll keep this to ourselves as long as we can.”
“Not even the girls.”
“Not even the girls,” Elizabeth assured.
Bri’s thoughts circled around. What the hell are we going to do?
“Find a cure. We can do that,” Elizabeth said. Bri flushed. She hadn’t meant her thoughts to be so loud. “We can’t let negative thinking or fear stop us.” Elizabeth took her arm from Bri, linked fingers, squeezed. “That’s advice that has been given to me more than once by a very wise woman.”
“Very stupid woman sometimes.”
“No more of that! We can’t afford it. We will find a cure.”
Bri hoped so. Her life depended upon it.
“Besides,” Elizabeth said with forced cheerfulness, “Luthan said everything would be resolved in a few days.” Her smile faded as if she’d listened to her own words, found them wanting.
Sounded like a death sentence to Bri, then quashed the little nasty thought and hoped it didn’t live in the back of her mind as the Dark lived in her body.
36
The longer Bri waited for Sevair, the antsier she got. She tried reading Lladranan medical texts. They still didn’t help. Evening faded and she didn’t walk.
So she paced the room and looked out the windows toward the park where her medica house was, where Zeres’s body had been sucked into the ground, all neat and tidy, and did anyone else in the whole world think that was strange and gruesome?
Her mind went ’round and ’round. Couldn’t bear the thought that she’d die and Sevair would wake with a corpse beside him, or see her die. This whole horrible mess brought out the meanest and lowest of herself and her stupidity.
She didn’t think she could tell him, either. Surely it would be best if she broke off the affair. Save him hurt. Save her strength.
If the seed could travel through her bond with Zeres, it could do the same between her and Sevair. Anyone else.
Elizabeth!
Don’t panic. I already thought of that.
You did? Are you sure you know what I’m thinking?
Ayes. I’ve been monitoring you. You think I could get it. But I can shield myself from it. Not let it in me.
Bri let her weak knees take her to the floor, crossed her legs, bent over and put her forehead on the floor, felt small, vague waves of comfort from the planet.
Thank you.
You’re welcome. I have a grieving man to comfort. We WILL o
vercome this, Bri.
Okay. Faucon’s lucky to have you. I’m lucky to have you.
Ayes, Elizabeth said.
Bri let the link with her twin fade.
Elizabeth could protect herself, but what of Sevair? Did he really love her? It had sounded like it that morning. But that had been in the heat of battle. He’d never said the words.
She was obesessed with the idea that she’d pass the sickness to him, or, even worse, that she’d split it somehow and they both would die. She couldn’t bear that. She had to tell him the affair was over.
She had to clean up her life. Make sure if she did die, it was with her affairs in order. She looked around the tower. Someone would move in again. Maybe. Or would her death confirm it was a bad luck place?
Dammit! She was being so morbid. Where was Sevair anyway? It was full dark and she’d wanted to do this in the golden sunshine of the daylight. Or at least when the sun was up.
Negativity. She was nothing but a mass of negativity. She rubbed her breastbone where the kernel hunkered, soon to break that forcefield and sprout. When it did, would it explode with tendrils and kill her quickly?
What was wrong with her? How come she couldn’t shake this? She’d been in tight situations before, wondered if she’d live to the sunrise as the refugee camps were invaded.
The tumor was working on her. Fear. Depression. Negativity.
Evil.
She’d be a wonderful person to be around if she continued to give in to negativity.
If she was on Earth, what would she do? Give someone a good massage. Koz.
No. She didn’t trust herself to work alone. Yoga. Meditation. Yes. Salute to the Sun sounded good.
Since the bath downstairs still wasn’t finished, she showered, then went up on the roof. Nuare wasn’t in her nest. Bri watched for Sevair and counted her blessings. She should write some affirmations down and repeat them ad nauseam to fight the fear and negativity. She had tools.
Blessings. Nuare wasn’t going to kill her. Elizabeth was with her and would be working on the problem. She had emotional support from the whole city and Castle, if she cared to use it.
Then Sevair came within sight, looked up and raised a hand of greeting. She had a man who loved her, maybe. But whom she had to send away. That hurt more than the evil growing inside her.
A few minutes later—too soon, why hadn’t she practiced what she’d wanted to say?—Sevair entered the rooftop with a tray. The scents of chicken soup and her favorite freshly baked bread, rosemary sea salt, wafted to her. She felt empty.
He walked toward her, smiling. Too bad. Get it over, quick and clean and blunt and done.
“Sevair, I want you to go and not come back. Our affair is over.” She shrugged. “Elizabeth and I only have a few days left on Lladrana and I want to spend them up at the Castle, working with her.”
He dropped the tray. The thick pottery bowls bounced over the small rim onto the rooftop, broke. Chicken soup went everywhere. The bread lay in grit.
All expression fled his face until it was as stiff as one of his own chiselled sculptures. He retreated to the other side of the roof.
His Song was stricken silent. His hands flexed, fisted. He stared at her for two long moments.
“Please leave.” Her voice cracked.
He drew in a ragged breath, another. Shuddered. Then he advanced on her. His eyes burned with angry determination.
“I won’t let you do this, dismiss me or our love.” His gaze narrowed, his Song rose or sank beyond her hearing. “Something’s wrong.” Striding over, he lifted her by her upper arms, let her feet dangle as he scrutinized her. Meeting his gaze was one of the hardest thing she’d ever done. She didn’t think she’d disguised her fear and misery.
He cocked his head as if listening to her Song, to their Song, still holding her high without apparent effort. “A beat is missing. A few notes.” He shook her gently, aware of his great strength as she hadn’t been. Not that he wasn’t as strong emotionally. Stronger than she.
Words tumbled from her. “I’ve got the sickness. I can’t cure it, neither can Elizabeth. I’m dying.”
“No.” It was a whisper, then a roar. “No!”
“Ayes.”
A harder shake, then he set her gently on her feet and stepped back, hands fisted. His eyes looked wild now and his Song cacophonous with fear. “Then you will just have to learn to vanquish this sickness once and for all,” he said. “I’m not having you dying on me.”
She managed a watery chuckle. “I’ll do my best to survive.”
“You will survive.” He paced the tower roof, avoiding the mess. A lot of that going around today. “I will not let you go. I will do everything in my Power to keep you.” He sucked in a great breath, hissed it out. “Even if I must move to Exotique Terre with you, I will be with you.”
She staggered a few steps backward to the wall, leaned on the cool stone, stunned. “But your country, your world…“
He made a dismissive gesture and her mouth fell open. “You are more important.” Who would have thought it? The most steady, responsible, practical man she’d ever known ready to cast aside everything for…love.
But underneath that she heard the subtones of his Song, the subtext of his words. I will not be abandoned again. Not give up everything for love but from fear? Wouldn’t it be easier for him to close his heart and step away? He didn’t. Of course he wouldn’t, as stubborn as his own rough rock.
Gaze locked on hers, he untied his belt pouch, opened it and poured some triangular clicking things into his hand. He took her fist, caressed her fingers open, palm up. “The reason I am so late. The Assayer was…busy.”
“You were at the autopsy of the mutant soul-sucker.”
“Ayes. But I wanted these for you.”
“No gifts.”
“You haven’t let me give you anything but my labor on this tower. Because you think it will bind us together? Too late.” He sifted a few of the triangles to her. They felt like bone.
“Dreeth teeth? Yuuck.”
“We killed a dreeth together. If we can do that, we can do anything.” He repeated the words he’d used only this morning of this eternal day. “I will fight for you, Bri. I will always fight for you.” With the utmost gentleness he curled her fingers loosely over the three jaggedly sharp teeth. “Tell me how to fight with you.”
“I’m afraid our bond will transfer the kernel to you.”
“Let me take it from you.” He was too intense.
Her heart jumped in her chest. “No!”
His eyes were wild.
“I’m afraid it will split and lodge in us both,” she confessed.
He prowled toward her. “Then we will fight it together. Live or die, together.”
“Merde! I don’t want that. That is not romantic, Masif.”
“I can be romantic.” He swept her into his arms, carried her to the stair tower.
Nuare swooped down and swallowed the loaf of bread in one gulp, suctioned up some soup. Closed one eye in a wink at Bri.
Letting herself press her face against him, draw in his scent, she mumbled, “No sex. I don’t want to transfer the mass during sex.”
He laughed. Laughed! Jiggled her a little as they went down the stairs. “Not sex. Loving. We make love.” He kissed the top of her head. “We are bound strongly enough that the evil could come through our touch.”
She was afraid he was right.
Bri suffered wild mood swings over the next couple of days, sometimes affecting Elizabeth. But Sevair was rock solid, an anchor for them. She could barely believe how tough he was, though the strain of pretending she was fine showed on him, too. Like Elizabeth, more strands at his temples turned silver.
Both Bri and Elizabeth redoubled their efforts, reading Lorebooks, questioning Circlets, researching, studying. Bri missed Zeres, who would have been another anchor in the storm battering her, the old and canny man. He’d have had a different view on all this, the empathic heali
ng thing. She wished he’d left notes about that. Surely he’d tried it.
Everything else seemed to be going very well. No invasions by the Dark horrors. The Marshalls learned through the spy eye Nuare had placed in the Master that the reason was they’d shaken up the monster-human.
Bri withdrew from the afternoon sessions to “supervise” the healing of other city medicas of the frink disease. Their training was spreading, not only other medicas coming to learn, but medicas teaching each other.
The frinkweed itself was close to being eradicated.
The Marshalls trained day and night, reforging their team. Bri was reluctantly relieved that Alexa was kept too busy to discover something was wrong with the twins. Calli was equally involved in her children and bringing a new Chevalier class up to speed. Koz’s injuries meant he couldn’t fight anymore and he’d decided to learn mirror magic. Marian hovered over him and watched as he strived to establish links between Lladrana and Earth. Bri’s and Elizabeth’s and Sevair’s pretense was accepted.
Elizabeth hadn’t told Faucon. He was taking the loss of a father figure hard, as anyone would. So Elizabeth was comforting him, too.
Sooner than they expected, they had a message from Koz. During dinner Bri was having with Sevair, Elizabeth contacted Bri mentally. Did you hear from Koz?”
A note saying you’d discuss something with me. Bri hadn’t had the energy or the curiosity to contact her twin. That was getting harder and harder. As hard as believing they’d whip this sickness, as hard as putting on a smiling mask.
Just as we’ve been working hard on curing you. Elizabeth’s thoughts scattered, realigned. He’s been learning mirror magic. Apparently it’s a much different magical system than Bossgond’s Dimensional Corridor processes. Koz believes he can put a mirror into my apartment. An undertone of wistfulness shadowed Elizabeth’s mental voice. We may even get audio and visual capabilities.
That’s wonderful. Bri meant it, just didn’t have a lot of juice to say it.
He wants to experiment tonight. Wants us to be there.
Bossgond’s island. Ttho.
Keepers of the Flame Page 33