Nature's Master (The Nature Mage Series Book 4)

by Duncan Pile

  “Just get me some whisky,” Adela said. “You can put it on the bill.” He returned in short order with a bottle of malt, the golden liquid sloshing around invitingly, and a beaker carved from the horn of some long-dead beast. The cork came out with a hollow, sucking sound and he poured out a finger of liquor. “Keep going,” she said. He tilted the bottle once more, splashing whisky into the cup until it was half-full.

  “I think that’ll do ma’am,” he said, stoppering the bottle decisively.

  “Yes it probably will,” Adela said, eyeing the generous measure and taking a sniff. Her eyes watered as she lifted it to her mouth and took a swig. Her throat spasmed violently but she forced herself to swallow. She gasped, her mouth afire, but moments later a hot rush blossomed in her throat and flowed all the way down to her stomach. Smiling determinedly, she tilted the beaker and took another mouthful, throwing her head back as she swallowed.

  “Ma’am, are you okay?” the barman said.

  She looked at him and saw the concern in his eyes. “Definitely not,” she said, lifting the glass and glugging another measure.

  “Are you sure this is going to help?”

  “It will tonight,” she said and lifted the cup once more, finishing off the last mouthful. She stood up, feeling the first rush of wooziness. She turned away without another word and walked back through the crowd. She could feel dozens of eyes on her scantily-clad form until she’d rounded the corner and started up the stairs, away from their lascivious gaze. Drink-induced numbness spread along her limbs and dulled her fear.

  She reached the door and paused for a moment. She took a deep breath to steady herself and entered the room. “I’m back,” she said.

  Jonn smiled at her.

  Adela slipped into his lap and kissed him deeply. Fear arose in her but its force was muted, made soporific by drink. She could do this.

  Jonn pulled back. “You taste of whisky.”

  “So what?” she said, placing her hands on his cheeks and kissing him once more.

  Jonn recoiled and grasped her by the shoulders. “Adela, talk to me. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing’s going on. I had a drink, that’s all.”

  “You don’t drink!”

  “I do sometimes,” she said, starting to feel desperate. Jonn could always see right through her. She tried to stroke his face but her hand slid off his face and slapped onto his chest.

  “You’re drunk!” Jonn said. “Adela, what’s happening here?” He sounded so confused it broke her heart. All she wanted was to shake off her fear and be with him, but wanting didn’t seem to be enough. Suddenly, she couldn’t contain herself any longer. Tears stung her eyes and flowed bitterly down her cheeks as the first wretched sobs wracked her.

  “Adela, darling,” Jonn said, and gathered her in his arms. Suddenly, she didn’t mind his nearness at all and curled into a ball against his chest as he rocked her gently back and forth. The pain began to fade. Whisky fogged her brain and weariness stole her will to fight, and the last thing she heard before she fell asleep was the quiet sound of Jonn singing.

  …

  “Wake up, my love,” Jonn said, resting a plate of bacon and eggs by her bedside. He piled up some pillows for her to lean against.

  Adela peered at him through bleary eyes and then memory returned, accompanied by the first fulsome throb of a headache. She grimaced.

  “Come on, sit up,” Jonn said. “You’ll feel better soon enough.”

  Groaning, she propped herself up on the pillows – an effort that was accompanied by a sharp stab of pain behind her eyes. She glanced at the food and turned her head away, dry-swallowing. The sight of all that grease made her queasy.

  “Eat up,” Jonn said, sliding the plate onto her lap. He saw her expression. “I know, but it will help.”

  She forced herself to eat, mouthful by greasy mouthful, and sure enough she almost felt like a human being again by the time she was finished. Jonn took the plate away and placed a mug of hot coffee in her hand before sitting in a chair by her bedside. She took a sip of the coffee, which was delicious, and shifted on her pillows with a quiet sigh of relief.

  “Feeling better?” he asked.

  “Getting there,” she said with a smile. Her thoughts turned to the events of the previous evening, and the smile fell away. “I’m so sorry Jonn…” she started, but didn’t know what else to say.

  Jonn shook his head firmly. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

  “Yes there is! I got drunk and you had to look after me.”

  “I’ll always look after you,” Jonn said in the sincere, guileless way that floored her every time.

  Their eyes met, and for a moment there was no need to speak.

  “What happened Adela?” he said softly. “Please…I need to understand.” He fell silent, watching her with expectant eyes.

  Adela reached a decision; Jonn deserved to know. “I don’t like it when you touch me,” she said, and instantly wanted to take it back. “I don’t mean that how it sounds.”

  Jonn shook his head. “Don’t worry about how it sounds. Just tell me everything, and we’ll work out what you mean afterwards.”

  She smiled weakly and carried on. “Remember how I was before you went to the Measure? I wouldn’t let you anywhere near me. The idea of being touched by a man brought back everything I’d suffered.”

  “I remember.”

  “When you rescued me I thought all that was over. I mean, we didn’t exactly hold back, did we?”

  Jonn smiled. “No, we didn’t.”

  “But since then it’s changed. I’ve changed. It’s just like it used to be. I need to be with you but when you touch me I start to panic.”

  “You know I’d never harm you, right?”

  “Of course. It’s not something I can control.”

  Jonn grunted and sat in thoughtful silence. Suddenly, his expression cleared. “I have an idea.”

  “What is it?”

  “Before I tell you, I need you to believe that I will always love you. Even if I can never touch you again.”

  “But Jonn…”

  He shook his head. “I want to be with you Adela. My life makes no sense without you anymore.”

  That simple statement meant more to her than any kind of demonstration. Tears formed in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks, but they weren’t bitter tears; they were tears of happiness. They felt good against her dry, heated skin. “I love you too, but I want more than that for us. I want to be with you.”

  “I want that too,” Jonn said.

  Neither of them spoke for a moment.

  “So what’s your idea?” Adela asked. It was hard for her to believe there was a way forward.

  “I think Emea might be able to help”

  “Emmy? But how?”

  “She has a healing gift, and by all accounts is making headway into uncharted territory. Gaspi had to kill someone at the Measure. He didn’t have any choice, but it shook him badly. I’d say he was on the verge of passing out, but then Emmy intervened and all of a sudden he was fine.”

  “What did she do?” Adela asked, her curiosity piqued.

  “She did something to the memory itself – the images and feelings associated with killing that man.”

  Adela pushed herself upright. “She made him forget?”

  “Not exactly. According to Emmy, she made the memory seem more distant, as if it happened a long time ago perhaps, or he’d had a chance to heal. It must have worked, because after she’d finished Gaspi was able to cope.”

  Adela stared at him in disbelief. “Do you think it would work? The things that have happened to me were...”

  “Horrific, but it’s got to be worth a go.” It was almost a plea.

  Adela shuddered at the thought of another person knowing what had happened to her. “I’m so ashamed.”

  “Emmy won’t judge you,” Jonn said. “Adela, this might be your best chance to heal. You could lead a normal life.”

  S
he shook her head doubtfully. She was broken beyond repair, and had given up hope of a normal life a long time ago. The best she could hope for was to learn to live with her pain.

  “Please?” Jonn said.

  She couldn’t deny him, not after all he’d done for her. “Okay. I’ll give it a go.”

  Fourteen

  Jonn found Emmy in her room. She listened in growing horror as he told her Adela’s story, until finally he asked for her help. “What are we still doing here?” she said, grabbing his arm and all-but-dragging him from the room, Lilly scurrying along behind them. They transported to the Atrium and set out across campus.

  “Do you really think you can help her?” Jonn asked.

  Emmy could hear the vulnerability in his voice. “I’ll do my best.” She was sure she could do something, but had no idea how much of a difference it would make. Gaspi had only been troubled by a single traumatic event, but Adela had a history of pain to address.

  “That’s all I can ask,” Jonn said, squeezing her shoulder.

  When they reached the Rest, she picked Lilly up and followed Jonn through the common room and up the back stairs. The room was at the far end of the corridor, towards the rear of the inn. He knocked once, and moments later the door swung open.

  “Emmy,” Adela said, taking her hands. “Come in.” Emmy felt a moment’s shyness. She’d only met Adela once, and felt unexpectedly tongue-tied in the beautiful woman’s company. She felt like a crow in the presence of an eagle.

  “Please, sit down,” Adela said.

  Emmy took one of two comfortable chairs and sat down with Lilly in her lap. Adela took the other chair, while Jonn closed the door and sat on the bed, moving as quietly and as reverently as a monk in a sanctuary. Adela looked at Emmy in nervous expectation. “So…Jonn’s told you everything?” She seemed so child-like in that moment that Emmy’s shyness fled in a heartbeat, replaced by a fierce urge to protect her.

  “He’s told me enough,” Emmy said.

  “And you really think you can help?”

  “I’m gonna give it my best shot.”

  Adela swallowed nervously. “So how does it work?”

  Emmy paused. She’d only done this once before, but the basic idea was simple enough. “I have to touch the memory itself and put it at a distance, as if time has passed and your mind has built a buffer against it.”

  “Touch the memory?” Adela said, the colour draining from her cheeks. “You mean, you have to actually see what happened?”

  Emmy felt a rush of compassion. “I’m sorry, but I do.”

  “All of it?” Adela whispered.

  “All of it.”

  Adela looked trapped, her eyes darting back and forth. “But there’s so much!” she wailed. “Emmy, you can’t see this. You’re so young.”

  Such was Adela’s conviction that for a brief moment Emmy doubted herself. If she went ahead with this, she’d be exposed to the horrors that Adela had suffered. Could she cope with that?

  “You don’t have to do this.” Adela said, taking Emmy’s hands in her own. “I’ll find another way.”

  Emmy shook her head, knowing there wasn’t another way; the pain in Adela’s eyes was too great. “Adela, I’m a healer. This is the price we pay.”

  Adela shook her head. “I can’t let you do this to yourself.”

  “You can and you will,” Emmy said.

  Adela looked intently into her eyes, as if seeking something. At long last she breathed out a slow sigh and her shoulders dropped in surrender. “Okay,” she breathed.

  Emmy squeezed her hands. “Don’t worry about me. If it gets too much we’ll take a break okay?”

  Adela nodded. “Where do we start?”

  “It’s best if you tell me the entire story, right from the start. Afterwards, it should be obvious which memories to deal with.”

  Hesitantly, Adela began to talk, speaking of the raid on her village and of being taken captive by the Ghannai. She spoke about the ship’s hold, and the dozens of times she had suffered rape at the hands of lustful men. She talked of the sores, the hunger, the illness and then of the Gentleman’s intervention, making her his companion for the remainder of the voyage. She spoke of being sold as if she were nothing more than a commodity, and of Belash’s men trying to rape her before Jonn came along and saved her life. She talked of her time as Belash’s captive – the long weeks in a cage, assailed by the filthy reek of her own faeces. Finally she spoke of being moved to the roof garden, where she was draped in expensive silks and sprayed with perfume, but all the while she lived in fear, feeling more a slave than ever. Belash had never raped her, but if Jonn hadn’t rescued her she knew he would have done so sooner or later.

  Emmy was horrified by what she heard, but she hardened herself to it. She was here to heal, and nothing was going to get in the way.

  At long last, Adela fell silent, her story told.

  “It’s time,” Emmy said. “Close your eyes and allow yourself to remember, but don’t shield yourself from pain. Visualise the events in the order they happened, and allow yourself to feel. I’ll be there with you, and will work on the memories as they surface.” Emmy already had an idea of what to do. She couldn’t deal with every bad thing that had happened to Adela since her abduction; there were simply too many. Instead, she needed to identify the incidents that had scarred her the most – the ones that led directly to a fear of men – and handle them one by one.

  “Let your mind drift back to the day the Ghannai came. See them arriving on the shores of Beran and laying waste to your hometown. Remember how you felt.”

  Just as she had long ago, when healing Gaspi at the Measure, Emmy reached out with her senses and connected with Adela’s thoughts and feelings. For a moment there was nothing but then she sensed it – a torrid flow of memory, lively with fear, which swept her up in its current. She could see and feel everything, as if the events unfolding before her eyes were happening to her instead of Adela. Instinctively she wanted to withdraw, but she managed to hold on, refusing to abandon Adela to her pain.

  She watched in horror as Adela’s family was killed before her eyes. Her heart was hammering as she was dragged aboard ship and thrown into the hold. She came close to being overwhelmed when the first man forced himself on her, but she drew magic around her like a cloak, absorbing herself in the task at hand. This was it – her first chance to make a difference. Channelling healing power, she reached out with her senses and touched the memory. It was hard to say exactly what she did – it was all instinct, an act of faith rather than knowledge – but if the memory was an open wound, it became a scar under Emmy’s ministrations. It would always be there, calloused and rough, but it was no longer an open, festering lesion.

  It got worse after that, and it took everything Emmy had just to endure. She went through every single rape, sealing the memories behind her and creating a kind of emotional distance between Adela and the images themselves. Every memory she touched decreased Adela’s burden, but it also increased her own. She gritted her teeth and worked on with tears running freely down her face, cut to the quick by the acute trauma of rape; the helplessness, the fear, the invasion. Worst of all was the self-loathing afterwards; the belief that you were sullied and worthless, the feeling that something precious had been taken from you and that you would never be whole again.

  At long last ‘the Gentleman’, as he styled himself, had intervened and from thereon-in things got easier. Emmy left the memory of Adela’s rescue in Helioport intact; something told her not to diminish the impact of Jonn’s intervention in her life, and besides, the rape had never happened. Adela had been through some horrible things since leaving the Maiden, but none of them had damaged her in the same way as the voyage itself. She’d lived in constant fear, but that alone wasn’t enough to do her permanent harm.

  The flow of memories slowed and then finally came to a stop. Emmy opened sore, swollen eyes to find Adela staring back at her in amazement. There was the briefest pause and
then they flew at each other, embracing fiercely. Emmy sobbed, openly and helplessly, and Adela held her close, her fingers pressing into Emmy’s back as she too wept without restraint. Neither woman let go for long minutes, exorcising the demons of what they’d just been through until the tears finally ran dry.

  Adela kissed her on the cheek. “I can feel it! Something’s changed!” she said, her eyes shining.

  Emmy dried her tears on her sleeve. “What happens if you recall one of the memories I touched – something that happened on the Maiden?”

  Adela paused, frowning, and then broke into a disbelieving smile. “It’s like it happened an age ago…or even to someone else.” She laughed out loud, delighted.

  Jonn rose from the bed, his cheeks wet with tears of his own. “You really feel different?” He looked like he scarcely dared to believe it.

  Adela rose to her feet and kissed him. “What do you think?” She slipped her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly, resting her head against his chest.

  Jonn met Emmy’s gaze over the top of Adela’s head. “Thank you,” he whispered.

  Adela turned to Emmy, her expression suddenly sombre. “I hate that you were exposed to all of that.”

  Emmy smiled wearily. “Yes, but it happened to you, not to me, and that makes a difference. Besides, I think the magic protects me in some way. Honestly Adela, I’ll be fine.”

  Adela took her hands. “I’ll always be grateful.”

  Emmy kissed her cheek, gave Jonn a long, silent hug and took her leave.

  …

  Gaspi was lying on his bed, hands tucked comfortably behind his head when Emmy entered the room, carrying a disconsolate-looking Lilly. She came in without speaking, closed the door behind her and crossed the room on leaden legs. Her face was ashen and stiff, as if she’d suffered a great shock.

  “Emmy! Are you okay?” Gaspi said, heaving himself up onto his elbows.

  She put Lilly down and climbed wordlessly onto the bed, where she flopped across his chest like a dead weight.

  “What’s going on?” Gaspi said, getting more worried by the moment. She buried her head in his neck and lay still, breathing quietly. Gaspi encircled her with his arms and held her, full of concern. He’d never seen her like this. He could feel her desperate need for him, emanating from her body. She didn’t stir for a long time, but finally she lifted her head and met his gaze.