Beyond the Boundary Stones (The Chronicles of Tevenar Book 3)

by Holder, Angela

  Fifteen

  “You did this!” Vigorre slammed a handful of charred cloth onto Yoran’s desk. “Smash it, you’re a Keeper! You serve the Mother! How dare you slaughter innocent people in her name? You’re no better than the ancient wizards! I can’t believe I promised to obey you!”

  Yoran waited, his mouth a hard line, until Vigorre had to stop to gasp for breath. “Are you quite finished?”

  Vigorre choked back the thousand other things he wanted to shout, and nodded stiffly.

  “Good. Have a seat.” Yoran gestured to the chairs facing his desk. Vigorre hated to spend a moment longer than necessary in the Purifier leader’s presence, but he sank into one and gripped the slender wooden arms.

  “I suppose I understand your outrage. If I were guilty of the crime you accuse me of, I’d deserve your anger. But you’re mistaken. I had nothing to do with the fire at the sailworks.”

  “How am I supposed to believe that?” Vigorre tightened his fingers until the carved scrolls bit into his hands. “You told me yourself that you planned to expose the wizards’ limitations. I read the Law, too, remember. I saw the section on triage. What better way to show Ramunna how little the demons care for them? Except you’ve proven you care no more than they do!”

  “Which would be true, if I’d ordered the fire started. But I didn’t.” Yoran’s manner remained unperturbed.

  “So it was a coincidence.” Vigorre freighted his voice with all the scorn he felt.

  “Perhaps.” Yoran leaned forward. “Or perhaps the Mother is aiding us in our work.”

  Vigorre rocked back, stunned at his audacity. “You can’t mean to suggest she would cause such a disaster.”

  “Not cause. Merely… influence the timing.” He sat back and pressed the tips of his fingers together. “Disasters happen. They are inherent in the way the Mother has created the world. She neither causes nor prevents them, but when the need is great I believe she sometimes arranges events so the inevitable tragedies serve her purposes instead of working against them.”

  Vigorre swallowed and considered Yoran’s words. “So you think the sailworks was going to burn at some point, and the Mother made sure it happened when it would help discredit the demons.”

  “Think about it. The Matriarch has been warned many times of the folly of locating an enterprise which uses so many flammable materials inside a wooden building, but she refused to consider constructing a new facility from brick or stone because of the cost. The fire brigade puts out dozens of small fires every month, especially in dry winters like this one. The only surprising thing is that this fire didn’t happen long ago.”

  The knot in Vigorre’s stomach unclenched a degree. “Was the Mother preventing it, putting it off until now?”

  “Think how many fewer lives were lost because it happened while the demons were here to work their magic than if it had occurred before they arrived.” Yoran regarded him with arched eyebrows.

  “That’s true.” Vigorre peeled his hands off the chair arms and massaged his stiff fingers. Even fewer would have died if he’d given in to the Lord of Demons’ temptation the night before. “But the loading bay doors were locked…”

  “There’s been a rash of burglaries in the area. It’s my understanding that every business from the docks to the Beggars’ Quarter has been securing their premises for fear of becoming the next victim. The workers were lucky one door was left open for their escape.”

  Yoran made it all sound so plausible. The awful conviction that had fueled Vigorre’s rage was fading away. He bit his lip. “You swear by the Mother you didn’t have your people set the fire?”

  “I did not. I swear it, by her holy name. May she strike me down if I speak falsely.”

  Vigorre heaved a great sigh. “I was so sure… I’m sorry I doubted you.”

  Yoran nodded. “I can see how it might seem so. I would go to great lengths to defeat the demons, but there’s no need for such wanton destruction. Our plans are going well. We’ve located a number of individuals throughout Ramunna and the surrounding areas who can’t be helped by any power granted by either the Mother or the demons. We grieve for their plight, but there’s nothing we can do to help them, either. Hopefully the generous amounts we’re paying them to appear before the wizards will ease their burdens. And again, the demons do help some in a limited fashion.”

  “Yes.” Vigorre considered the man whose leg Elkan had amputated. He’d been helped, even though that help was brutal to contemplate. The diabetic children, too. When he left, Elkan had been talking with the five sets of parents, despite his exhaustion, arranging for them to find lodging nearby so their children could return every day for treatments.

  “Have I addressed your concerns sufficiently?” Yoran’s expression was open and honest. Vigorre couldn’t doubt his sincerity.

  Thank the Mother. For a few hours Vigorre had feared the worst: that he was trapped between evil and evil, demons on one side and ruthless men on the other. He’d never been so glad to be wrong. “You have.”

  “Good.” Yoran took a wastepaper basket from beneath his desk and used a sheet of paper to sweep the sooty wad of linen into it. He wrinkled his nose at the damp black smear remaining, but dismissed it and turned back to Vigorre with a fatherly smile. “Is there anything else you wish to discuss with me, my son?”

  He should tell Yoran about the eagle, and how he had successfully resisted the Lord of Demons’ temptation. But for some reason he couldn’t. This morning Josiah had been eager to pour out the story of how a new familiar had come to them in the night, along with the tale of Kevessa’s ordeal. Elkan had confirmed that the eagle was safely ensconced in his quarters. He’d looked at Vigorre with a quiet pleased certainty that made Vigorre want to shake him and shout aloud his knowledge of their deception.

  Other informants would alert Yoran to the appearance of another demon. Vigorre couldn’t bear to admit that the creature had been meant for him, and that even now a part of him felt the urge to surrender to its seduction. Every time he watched golden light pour from the wizards’ hands, he wondered what it felt like. Every time he thought about the row of still bodies who might have lived with one more wizard’s help, guilt tormented him. What if it had been the Mother who offered?

  He shivered and shook his head. “No, Keeper Yoran. Do you want me to continue working with the wizards?”

  “With the demons, yes. From all I’ve heard, you’re doing an excellent job earning their trust. Keep up the good work.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Do you think they’ll accept my offer to depart with the ships to Tevenar?”

  Vigorre shook his head. “They’re determined to stay.”

  “That agrees with what I’ve heard from other sources. Very well. We offered them the Mother’s mercy. If they refuse to take it, they’ll face her justice.” He sat back in his chair. “I expect your father will want to hear a full report of what you’ve seen today. If he, too, questions whether the Purifiers bear any responsibility for the day’s events, I trust you’ll pass on my reassurances.”

  “I will. Good-night, Keeper Yoran.”

  “Good-night, my son.”

  Vigorre rose and moved toward the door. As he put his hand on the knob, Yoran spoke. “One more thing.”

  He turned back. “Yes, Keeper Yoran?”

  “The Holy Yashonna’s writings suggest that the demon’s power differs from that granted by the Mother in one important respect. The Mother’s windows can show only what truly happened in the past, but windows created by the demons can show false images. They may try to convince you I was responsible for the fire by displaying what seems to be proof. If so, remember that it is a deception, created by the demons to vilify those who oppose them.”

  Vigorre didn’t remember anything about windows in the document he’d read. But Nirel had told him that sometimes the wizards’ windows showed things contrary to people’s memories. It was one of the things that had made Ozor suspicious of them. Now
that he thought about it, he wasn’t surprised the demons could lie in that fashion. They’d need the ability in order to conceal their foul deeds. “I won’t believe anything they show me.”

  “Good.” Yoran sighed. “And of course, the same thing applies to any similar incidents that may occur. The Mother will probably continue to influence events in support of our cause.”

  Vigorre’s stomach flopped. If the fire was only the Mother’s first blow against the demons, how ruthless might her further attacks become? He pressed his lips together and nodded.

  “The longer the Mother wages war against the demons, the more the people of Ramunna will suffer. Only after we drive them out can the city return to peace.”

  Cold settled into Vigorre’s bones. “I understand.”

  His curt nod was met by a hand raised in benediction. Turning away, he pushed the door open and left.

  Sixteen

  The line was shorter. Josiah gulped a glass of fruit juice and surveyed the outer portion of the square. It was hard to tell for sure, because the guards kept adjusting how the line snaked around in order to pack people in more efficiently, but for the first time he could see the end of it, well within the bounds of the square. This morning the line had extended into the surrounding streets, as it had since Firstday morning.

  “We’re catching up,” he told Sar, relief flooding him. “Maybe soon we’ll be finished with the people who’ve been sick for years, and just have to deal with new things.”

  Perhaps.

  Josiah frowned at the donkey, whose head was deep in a bucket of water. “You think something else is going on?”

  Elkan is concerned that people are losing confidence in the Mother’s power and staying away.

  “I didn’t think he was serious about that.”

  I was his familiar for eleven years. I can tell when he’s worried.

  Josiah frowned and turned to study his master. Elkan was speaking earnestly to a woman holding a baby and surrounded by a cluster of children. “I guess it’s not too surprising. All those years they imagined the Mother’s power could do anything, and now they’re realizing it has limits.” He grimaced. “How many kids with diabetes are we up to?”

  Nineteen. Plus eleven who were too far gone to save.

  Josiah swallowed. “It’s got to be more common here than in Tevenar. The Mother’s Hall in Elathir hasn’t seen that many cases in the last twenty years.”

  Maybe.

  The donkey’s cryptic statement was followed by mental silence. Josiah rolled his eyes. Sar loved to bait him. He made his familiar wait a good long time. Finally, as he plunked his glass back on the table, he gave in. “What do you mean by that?”

  The family of the sixteen-year-old boy traveled for two days to get here.

  “So? They left home as soon as word reached them we were here.”

  I heard the boy’s mother express gratitude for the kind stranger who told them about the wizards and gave them money for travel and lodging in the city.

  “What? When? I didn’t hear her say that.”

  As they were leaving, after we’d moved on to the next patient.

  “How—”

  Sar flicked one long ear. Josiah flushed. “All right. I still don’t see—”

  Others have mentioned helpful strangers.

  Josiah frowned. “There was that one mother who got upset. She kept saying how she’d been promised the wizards could make her daughter walk again. When I told her the injury was too old and we couldn’t fix her hip enough, she kept repeating it, over and over. ‘But they promised me!’”

  Who would make such promises?

  Josiah shifted to silent communication as he headed back to their station to greet the next waiting patient. Someone who wanted to make people hate us. The Purifiers?

  I suspect so.

  It was another case of measles, this one a screaming toddler. Josiah told the mother what to expect, then continued as Sar sent the Mother’s power surging through him into the child. What about the Dualists?

  They only seem concerned with their own people. The Purifiers wish to turn all the people against us.

  Josiah conceded the point. Kevessa said when she visited her family last night, they kept asking about the people killed by the fire, why we couldn’t save them. No matter how many times she tried to explain that we healed as many as we could, they couldn’t get over the fact that we stood by and did nothing while people died. They were really angry about it, she said.

  If her own family feels that way, what of those who’ve never met a wizard?

  The possibilities made Josiah queasy. The Matriarch knows we did the best we could. She officially commended us.

  Will that sway people who already disapprove of the way she’s neglected so much in her pursuit of an heir?

  They finished with the child. Josiah accepted her mother’s gratitude modestly and beckoned the next patient forward. Probably not. I think the Matriarch wouldn’t care if we really were demons, as long as she gets pregnant.

  Sar snorted agreement.

  Borlen arrived back from his privy break and Josiah had to concentrate on his work as patients came in quick succession. The young soldier showed no lingering effects of the sword through his heart except a near-worshipful admiration for the wizards. He and Josiah had been working together since the second day in the square, and he still occasionally acted awed. But he was a great assistant, which was a good thing. Elkan insisted that Vigorre help him; Josiah was sure he was busily preparing the young Keeper for wizardry. And Josiah wasn’t really comfortable working with Nirel any more, not since Kevessa had shown signs of returning his interest.

  He grimaced. It had been three whole days, and all he’d gotten from her since that night had been a furtive smile or a quick hand squeeze here and there. They’d been crazy busy, of course. After the fire they’d both been far too drained to do anything but eat and sleep. The next day they’d worked extra long to make up for all the people they hadn’t gotten to the previous afternoon. And yesterday she’d left immediately after Elkan called a halt for the night to accompany Gevan to her aunt and uncle’s house, and hadn’t gotten back until after Josiah was asleep. He glanced at her station, but she was in the middle of a healing and didn’t even notice.

  A couple hours later Josiah looked up from one more of the endless number of children with what should be mild diseases aggravated by malnutrition to find Elkan at his elbow. He blinked in surprise. His master had been so busy since they got to Ramunna he’d been treating Josiah almost like a journeyman, trusting him to work without supervision. Josiah liked it. As much as he looked forward to the day they caught up with the backlog of patients and had a little more time to breathe, he didn’t relish the thought that Elkan would probably feel obligated to resume the sort of oversight an apprentice was supposed to get.

  Elkan grinned. “Want to stop early tonight?”

  “Yeah!” Josiah brightened, then glanced guiltily at the even shorter, but still extensive, line of waiting patients. “If you think we should.”

  “I do.” Elkan looked mostly his normal self again, after the draining following the fire. His face was still thin, and he’d acquired some creases around his eyes, but Josiah expected those would persist until they were safely back in Tevenar. “I want to speak to Nalini again, and the other Girodan healers. Nirel is going to take us to her village so we can attend their show.”

  Josiah wrinkled his nose. “You think she’ll listen to you? She was pretty mad.”

  Elkan laughed ruefully. “Maybe, if I grovel enough.” He sobered. “The more I learn about the situation here, the more I’m convinced that we’re going to have to find effective ways to treat conditions without the Mother’s power. That’s the only way we can hope to bring Ramunna and the rest of Ravanetha up to anywhere near the standard of care we provide the people of Tevenar.”

  Josiah sent Borlen to help Vigorre, who was giving the rest of the waiting patients numbers, then walked wi
th Elkan to wait for Kevessa to finish with her last patient. “You don’t think the Mother will eventually touch enough familiars to take care of things?”

  “I don’t think she can. You know it disrupts the balance of the world every time she does. The numbers are too large. To give Ramunna the same proportion of wizards in its population as she’s maintained in Tevenar, she’d have to touch thousands of new familiars. There’d be earthquakes, volcanoes, hurricanes, droughts, floods—all nature would rebel.”

  His hands waved in the air as he warmed to his subject. “For a while I feared it was hopeless, but now I think I know what we have to do. Good public health is the first step, of course. Nutrition, sanitation, safety measures—I’m hoping the Matriarch will be so grateful for a healthy heir she’ll give me whatever I ask for. But beyond that, I think we can learn new ways of treating injury and disease. We never had to in Tevenar; we always had the Mother’s power. But they’ve had to invent techniques to compensate for its absence here. If I can get Nalini and the others to share what they’ve developed, teach others to use their methods, it would help a great deal.”

  Josiah tilted his head. “If they won’t help, we can try to come up with stuff on our own. There’s Gevan’s magnifying lens. Once the ships sail and he can get back to his workshop he promised he’d make a stronger one first thing.”

  “That’s right. What I’d really love is to get him and Nalini together. Can you imagine what they’d come up with between them?” He shot Josiah a smile. “Put you in the mix, with your quick mind and creative ideas, not to mention the ability to experiment with using the Mother’s power in concert with their inventions, and I wouldn’t be surprised if in a few years you’d come up with all sort of amazing things I can’t begin to imagine.”

  Josiah flushed with pleasure at his master’s praise. “I’d love to do something like that.” His mind began to race, throwing out dozens of possibilities. He wished he could run off to Gevan’s workshop and start testing them. “In fact, I don’t think there’s any work I’d like more. Not even regular wizardry like I do now.”