Keeper of the Dawn

by Dianna Gunn

  Beth bowed. “I’ve been aching to meet you.”

  Lai raised an eyebrow. “Me?”

  She laughed. “You sound so surprised. Everybody’s talking about you. The first outsider to become an initiate in centuries.”

  She shivered. Now I’ll never get through a conversation without a hundred questions.

  “You can talk later,” Rachael said, her eyes firmly locked on something behind Lai. “The rest of our party has arrived.”

  By the end of the day her whole body ached and her head was bursting with new knowledge about Taurim’s fighting and healing arts. She devoured her supper in a few massive bites and excused herself early. All she wanted was to lie in Tara’s arms tell her everything about the day.

  Tara’s room was empty when Lai arrived. She yanked her boots off and collapsed on the bed without bothering to remove her clothes. The tension in her back slipped away and she grinned. She still found it hard to believe beds could be this comfortable.

  “Sleeping already?”

  Lai rolled over to face Tara. “I wouldn’t fall asleep in my uniform.”

  Tara kicked her boots off and hopped on the bed. “So you’re waiting for me to take it off?”

  She laughed nervously. “I just didn’t want to stand for another moment.”

  Tara’s smile faded slightly and she lay back against the pillows. “So what do you want?”

  “To tell you everything. I think I made a friend today.”

  “One of the other initiates?” Tara asked.

  “Her name is Beth. She was excited to meet me.” Lai slipped out of her tunic and shifted closer to Tara. “Beth said she’s been to Alanum, but never nearly as far south as where I come from. She sounded awfully surprised when I told her my homeland is further south.”

  “We were all taught that the only thing south of Alanum is the Scarred Lands,” Tara said, flinging her tunic off her body with a single graceful motion. “Some people will never believe you.”

  Because no matter what I do, I’ll always be an outsider. She shoved the thought into the deepest recesses of her mind and took off her breeches, folding them by the foot of the bed. “Can you read to me tonight?”

  Tara raised an eyebrow. “You know, we could do more than read.”

  Lai tilted her head to the side. “Like what?” She asked, even though she had a feeling she already knew.

  Tara laughed. “What would a normal couple do in bed?”

  Heat rushed to her cheeks. “I—I never thought about that.” She had no interest in what a regular couple did, and even if she was interested, she had no idea how two women went about it.

  “You didn’t?” Tara’s eyes widened, as if she had never heard anything so strange.

  “Was I supposed to?” She ran a hand through her hair. Some part of her had always known this conversation would come up, and dreaded it.

  Tara wrapped her arms around Lai’s stomach and pulled her closer. “You aren’t supposed to do anything but love me.” She said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

  The tension in her chest loosened slightly. “So it’s all right if all we do is read?”

  “I love reading to you. And you’re always welcome to change your mind.”

  “What if I never do?”

  Tara shrugged. “I enjoy sex, but I don’t need it.” She kissed Lai on the nose. “Your happiness is more important to me.”

  Lai searched Tara’s expression for any sign of dishonesty, any hint of doubt, but all she saw was love.

  “You’re serious,” Lai said, mostly to reassure herself.

  “Of course I am,” Tara said. “I’ve had wonderful nights with people, but you make my entire life wonderful.”

  A warm, comforting wave of relief and joy passed through Lai’s chest, taking all of the remaining tension with it. She rested her head on Tara’s shoulder, suddenly exhausted.

  “Thank you,” Lai said, closing her eyes. “You know, I think I just want to sleep.”

  “Then we don’t have to do anything other than sleep.”

  Six days a week, every week for the next two years she met the other initiates in the great hall at dawn. They ran around the entire town twice before breakfast. After breakfast they studied weapons—daggers, bows, swords—followed by medicine and history lessons. An hour before dinner they stopped to recite portions of The Twins’ Tale to each other, always stories about Taelanna.

  At night she almost always went to Tara’s room. They still read to each other, only now they read other books: history books, poetry books, even the occasional story book from Alanum. And they talked about Lai moving in, about working side by side in the temple.

  But no matter how much they talked and how much she trained, Lai lived in constant fear. Becoming friends with the other initiates only made it worse. It meant if she failed now she would let them all down, not just herself and Tara.

  Sometimes she didn’t sleep at all, her mind a panicked jumble of images: her falling from the cliff, dying on the mountain peak, Tara crying over her body, her body burning on a pyre. Yet she always trained the next day, refusing to let fear win. One day after another she trained for her new purpose, praying it would be enough.

  Chapter Fourteen

  During Lai’s third and final winter of training a great illness took hold of the city. Lessons went on but the temple attendants and Keepers of the Dawn worked day and night to make new salves and potions, testing different recipes against this new disease. Nothing cured the sickness; it was all they could do to minimize the suffering.

  A few days before the celebration of the new year Rachael came to Tara’s room wearing a grim expression. She looked as if winter had aged her twenty years.

  “Amber wishes to see you,” she said shortly. “She’s sick.”

  Before either of them could respond Rachael turned and headed back down the corridor towards Amber’s room. Lai and Tara exchanged nervous glances and hurried after the elder Keeper of the Dawn.

  Lai’s heart sank when they entered the room. Amber had been propped up on half a dozen green pillows and wrapped in a bright green blanket. All the color had drained from her face, and even from the door Lai could hear the rattling sound of each painful breath.

  Still, the older woman smiled as Lai approached. Lai took a deep, shaky breath and knelt beside the bed.

  “Isn’t there anything they can do?” she asked, even though she already knew the answer.

  Amber shook her head. “None of the recipes we try do more than ease the pain,” she said. “We have run out of options.”

  Lai chewed on the inside of her cheek. Her own magic might be able to heal Amber, but she had only healed injuries, not illnesses, before. And if she failed her magic would still be exposed. She had no idea what would happen then.

  Still, she had to try.

  “I may be able to help,” she said.

  Amber coughed violently. Blood spurted out of her mouth, covering her hand. She stared at it, the last hints of color draining from her face, and turned to Lai. She was obviously trying to keep the pain out of her voice and failing. “How?”

  “Magic is different back home,” Lai said, trying not to stare at the blood. “If you move your hand I can try.”

  Amber let her hand fall to her side, smearing blood all over the blankets. Lai rested one of her palms on the priestess’s chest and the other on her stomach. She closed her eyes and took a deep, steadying breath.

  Lai visualized her life force, a bright red energy flowing through her body like blood. She extended it towards Amber. She saw the infection in her minds’ eye, a blackness spreading through the old woman’s chest. Carefully she pushed her own energy into Amber’s chest through her left hand, pulling the black energy into her right arm and forcing it through her body into the ground.

  She took another deep b
reath and used all the force of her exhale to push the remaining sickness out of Amber, forcing it into the ground. Her own red energy settled in Amber’s chest, melding with the woman’s own reddish brown energy. Color returned to the old woman’s face and she smiled, her eyes clear of pain.

  She sank to the floor beside Amber’s bed, leaning against the cool wooden bedframe.

  “Are you all right?” Tara asked, suddenly at her side, holding her hand.

  Lai nodded. “Take me to the healing ward. Maybe I can help the others.” She didn’t know how long her energy hold out, but she had to save as many people as she could. Perhaps this was the true reason the goddesses sent her there.

  “You don’t look like you’re in any condition to help anyone.”

  “Let her try,” Amber said, her voice strong again.

  Tara glowered at Amber. “Very well, I’ll take you,” she said, her tone laced with disapproval.

  The healing ward was a narrow green room stretching the entire length of the temple. All two dozen beds held sick people with grim expressions of pain. More were bundled up in blankets along the far wall and in the corners, coughing together in a strange chorus of death. Some had guests, several of whom looked ill too

  She walked to the young man in the nearest bed, trying to ignore Tara hovering nervously behind her.

  The man opened his eyes as she approached. He didn’t even notice her, staring at the ceiling as if trying to communicate with the goddesses, his eyes clouded with pain.

  “I’ve come to help you,” she said as she drew close. “But you must lie very still.”

  He stared at her, his eyes clearing. “You’re the outsider.”

  Lai flinched at the man’s venomous tone, but she would not turn away from people who needed help. “My magic—the magic of my people—can help. I’ve already saved Amber.”

  He spat at her, missing by only a few inches. “I don’t want your help. This sickness is our punishment for teaching you Taelanna’s secrets.”

  She backed away from him, rounding on Tara. “Is it true?” Surely Taelanna hadn’t sent her here to cause this?

  “Some believe so,” Tara said bitterly. “Most of us know better.”

  “What if they’re right?” Lai barely managed to push the words out, her voice tiny.

  Tara raised her eyebrows. “If they were right, would you have been able to cure Amber?”

  “I… I suppose not.” She glanced at the man who had spoken. He was staring at her with eyes full of hate. Most of the others were watching her now too, their faces twisted into the same hateful expression. “All I want to do is help,” she said quietly.

  “I know that. They don’t.” Tara took her hand. “If they won’t accept your help, they can accept their deaths.”

  She pulled away from Tara. “They don’t deserve to die—”

  “We’re all going to die eventually,” Tara snapped. “You shouldn’t waste your energy on people who hate you.”

  “I’m not leaving them to die.” She turned to face the ward. By now everyone was staring at her, even the priestesses handing out potions at the far end of the room. “I can heal you,” she said, raising her voice as much as she dared. “But you have to let me touch you.”

  The silence that followed roared in her ears. Maybe she should turn around and go home. Surely her own people couldn’t hate her so much.

  Someone at the back of the hall erupted into a coughing fit, finally breaking the silence. She was almost relieved as the fit stretched on. Anything was better than the quietness. She had spent too much time in silence since she left her people.

  A woman halfway down the room raised her hand timidly. “You can heal me,” she said, her voice so scratchy Lai almost didn’t understand her.

  She could have jumped for joy. Maybe they will let me help after all.

  Chapter Fifteen

  After the first woman walked out of the healing ward with only a small headache the others lined up for Lai’s help. She went around the room slowly, helping the sickest first. Every time she saved one she had to rest a little longer before turning to the next. The priestesses brought her water and food, but it didn’t help much.

  She sat on the corner of an old woman’s bed, carefully wiping away the gray hairs clinging to her sweat-soaked face. The woman watched Lai through half open eyes, every breath rattling in her chest.

  “I’m here to help you,” Lai said gently, resting one hand on the woman’s stomach.

  “Don’t,” the woman said, grabbing Lai’s wrist.

  “It will only take a moment.”

  The woman’s grip tightened on Lai’s wrist. “They need your help more.” She waved at the other patients.

  “You all need my help. I’m going to help as many of you as I can.”

  The woman squeezed her wrist so hard it hurt. “I’ve lost my whole family. Let me go.”

  After a long moment of silence Lai nodded and turned to the next bed, placing her hands carefully on the chest and stomach of a man who looked even older than Ellanora. She closed her eyes and called upon her fiery life force, forcing it to dispel the old man’s sickness. The flames were slow now, burning away the sickness little by little rather than searing it all out at once.

  After what felt like an hour she finally pushed the last of the old man’s sickness out, forcing it through her body and into the ground where it could be harmlessly absorbed. She fell away from his bed, head pounding.

  Tara appeared at her side, picking her up and setting her down on one of the now-vacant beds. “You’re going to kill yourself. Let’s go back to your room—or mine—and get you to bed.”

  But I can save more. How many more, she wasn’t sure, but every life mattered. “What if these people die while I’m sleeping?”

  “Then it was their time,” Tara said coldly. “You need rest.”

  “I can still help—”

  “I am not letting you die.” Tara roughly picked her up.

  Lai wanted to object further but her headache was getting worse with every moment. She wasn’t sure she’d even be able to walk back across the room.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t heal them all.” Darkness filled her vision, bringing with it relief. “So sorry.”

  Then she let the familiar, comforting darkness take her away from consciousness, away from pain.

  Every day for three weeks she went back to the healing ward, curing as many people as she could, but more always got sick, faster than she could heal them. She had never been so exhausted in her life.

  Finally the sickness stopped spreading. Sixty people had died in spite of her efforts, not including those who died before she started working her magic. Half the town called her their savior while the other half still blamed her presence for the illness.

  A week after Lai returned to her lessons, Katharine stopped her and Tara on their way into Sunrise Hall.

  “They say you caused this plague.” Katharine’s voice was ice cold, one hand tightly wrapped around the hilt of her sword. “It’s our punishment for letting you become a Keeper of the Dawn.”

  Lai froze, staring at Katharine’s sword. Is she going to try to kill me?

  “Do you really believe them?” Tara asked. “She isn’t even a Keeper of the Dawn yet. The goddesses make the final decision.”

  “I don’t know what I believe,” Katharine said, narrowing her eyes at Tara. “I know she didn’t even mention her healing powers until my grandfather was long dead.”

  “I didn’t think I was strong enough.”

  “You could have tried sooner.” Katharine took a few steps towards them. “But I’m not here to argue. Lai, I challenge you to a duel. Let your sword prove that you belong in the Keepers of the Dawn.”

  “I’m not even carrying a weapon.”

  “Then let’s go to the armory and get you one
.”

  Tara glared at Katharine and crossed her arms over her chest. “We will do no such thing. She doesn’t have to prove anything to you.”

  Lai rested a hand on Tara’s shoulder. “Yes, I do.”

  A few moments later they were standing ten feet apart in a practice ring outside Sunrise Hall. A crowd had gathered to watch, as if the town had simply been waiting for Katharine to challenge her.

  Katharine unsheathed her sword and Lai did the same, lowering herself into a defensive crouch. She preferred fighting with the niro but she had taken quickly to the short sword the Keepers of the Dawn used, excelling with it as she had always excelled in combat.

  Katharine charged and Lai ducked, rolling to the side as Katharine brought her sword down. Disarming an opponent was enough to win a duel, but if either of them died here the killer wouldn’t be blamed.

  Lai brought her sword up in time to block another blow, shoving Katharine away from her. She waited for Katharine to attack again and dove sideways and forward, slashing outwards and slicing open the side of Katharine’s leather jerkin. Lai turned and effortlessly blocked the next blow. She ducked away from another strike and hastily moved several feet backwards, increasing the distance between them.

  Katharine charged forward. Lai stepped out of her way and punched Katharine square in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her. Lai pushed the other woman over, resting her sword on Katharine’s wrists.

  “Have I proven myself yet?” She asked between heavy breaths. The other initiates sparred with her often but they certainly didn’t fight with this level of deathly ferocity.

  Katharine glared at her but nodded. “Yes.”

  “Good.” She sheathed her sword without smiling. Head held high, she strode out of the practice circle, grabbing Tara’s hand and leading her back towards Sunrise Hall.

  “You didn’t have to duel anyone,” Tara said.

  Lai shook her head. “I wanted to give them a new story to whisper about me.”