The Deliverer

by Sharon Hinck

  Scuffling sounds led to a sudden flare of light.

  More sounds and a hoarse voice. “I told you, it’s not safe.” That was Kieran, the hard, angry man leading our escape. He was standing by the window, drawn, haggard, glaring at his son, who knelt by the heat trivet glowing in the center of the floor.

  Even in my fevered daze, I sensed the anger building in the boy, ricocheting off the resolute stance of his father.

  Nolan’s eyes blazed as he sprang to his feet. “You have to do something. She’s burning up.” He tore his fingers through his hair, and his whole body shook. “Don’t let this happen again.”

  Kieran pushed away from the window, and I wondered if he’d attack the boy or crush the heat trivet underfoot.

  Instead, he groaned and pulled his son into an awkward embrace. “This isn’t the same. It’s not Rammelite fever.”

  Nolan squirmed, pushing his father to arm’s length. “What do you know about it? You couldn’t help her, either, and she died.” His voice cracked, and he gave in to Kieran’s grip and buried his face against his father’s shoulder, his back shaking with sobs.

  “I know. I’m sorry.” Kieran held the boy tightly, murmuring again and again, “I know, I know.”

  Pain radiated from them both, shimmering like the glow of the heat trivet. A tiny buried part of me longed to comfort them. “I won’t die,” I whispered. But the sound didn’t carry past my throat. Besides, I had no way of knowing if I was speaking the truth. I gave in to the dizzying pain and closed my eyes.

  Nolan’s low cries quieted to quivering gasps, then to a ragged silence.

  “Holy One, we need you.” Kieran’s voice was raw and broken. “Linette needs you.” He kept talking, but my mind drifted.

  When I next opened my eyes, Kieran was grasping his son’s shoulders. In the soft light of the heat trivet, I saw the tears that glistened on Nolan’s cheeks. “Be strong for her sake,” Kieran said firmly. Nolan’s back straightened as if his father’s words had poured new steel into his bones.

  It was probably delirium from the fever, but the sight of the man and boy in the uneven light stirred a deep warmth inside my ribcage. For a precious moment, I wanted to form a song about tenderness and strength and longing and courage. Then the pain in my skull and spine swirled me away into confusing images and fever.

  Much later, I opened my heavy lids and the shed was full of morning light. The cloak no longer hung over the window. I propped up onto my elbows and the fever gnawed into the back of my neck, making me groan. I rubbed my eyes and looked around. Weapons, gear, and the heat trivet had disappeared. The men were gone.

  I was alone.

  My heart lurched, and the quickening beat of my pulse drummed against the ache in my forehead. They’d left me.

  I knew I’d been slowing them down, but Kieran had seemed determined to get me to Braide Wood. He’d said there were people there who could help me. I hadn’t really understood why helping me was so important to him. Maybe he had something to prove.

  I struggled to sit up. Even slow, careful movement made the ground sway.

  Now he’d dragged me out into the harsh mountains and left me to die alone. I’d begun to trust him, even to care about the rough-edged man and his son. I groaned. I’d been so foolish.

  What if Bezreth came after me? Could her people have followed us this far? Being dragged back to Sidian would be even worse than dying alone in this hut.

  A soft scuffing sounded outside. I fumbled for a weapon, but the dirt floor was bare. The door slid open and Nolan bounded inside. When he spotted me leaning against the wall, he pulled up short and offered a shy smile. “You’re awake.”

  “He left you, too? Oh, Nolan. I’m sorry.”

  His floppy bangs drooped lower as his forehead wrinkled. “Left?” He glanced around at the bare shed and his face cleared. “We needed water so I slipped out. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “But where’s Kieran?”

  “Scouting ahead.” Nolan passed me a damp gourd. “Maybe this will taste better than the orberry juice.”

  Water beaded the gourd, and I pressed it gratefully against the side of my face, telling myself that the relief flooding me was from the cool moisture and not from learning that Kieran hadn’t abandoned me. I tried a sip, letting the liquid work its way down my dry throat.

  Rapid, light footsteps sounded beyond the shed door. Nolan pulled out a bootknife and spun.

  The door slid aside and Kieran slipped in. He noticed Nolan’s weapon and gave an approving nod. Then his piercing eyes found me. “We need to head out. Can you stand?” He offered his hand.

  I handed the gourd back to Nolan and clasped Kieran’s forearm. His skin was cool, the muscles hard and ropey beneath my fingers. With a deep breath, I let him haul me to my feet.

  The shed tilted and wobbled around me. “Stand, maybe. Walking I’m not so sure about.”

  A flicker of a smile lightened his grim features. “It’s a start.” He pressed his hand against the side of my face before I could protest. “You’re a little cooler. Maybe the fever is breaking.”

  He was wrong. The gnawing heat was deep inside my spine, throbbing out into my limbs. But I said nothing.

  Nolan grabbed the pack that had been beneath my head and headed out.

  I took an uneven step toward the door, then paused to catch my breath, brushing my hair off my face. My braids were tangled. Several had broken free of their threads, and loose strands caught in the small beads of the other braids. I began to tighten one strand.

  Kieran stilled my hands. “I never liked you in Hazorite braids.”

  I bristled. I hated when he referred to his knowledge of me. I resented that he claimed to know more about me than I knew about myself. I pulled away and glared at him, while I used one stray ribbon to cinch all my loose hair and the remaining braids together at the back of my neck.

  He gestured for me to precede him out of the hut. Outside, he stepped closer again, supporting me with his arm. I wanted to flinch away, but after only a few steps, it was clear I needed the help.

  “I know you can’t remember right now.” His voice was gruff, low. “And I know you’re confused. Normally, I’d be the last person to tell you to blindly trust anyone, but . . .” He guided me over a rough pile of jagged rocks and onto a narrow trail.

  I staggered a few more steps. “But you expect me to trust you.”

  Nolan was scrambling up a switchback ahead. Sparse angular trees guarded the slope. The very ground here felt angry and threatening.

  He sighed. “Just let us get you home. You can sort out everything else then.”

  Home. Pain sliced through my heart. A place I couldn’t remember. With the emptiness in my memory, would I ever have a home again?

  Kieran’s arm wrapped around my shoulders and pushed me forward. “Stop thinking. All you need to do today is keep moving.”

  The muscles in my back tightened, but I trudged forward. I didn’t have spare energy to argue with him or to nurse my frustration and distrust. For now, it took all my strength to cover my pain. Each step pounded up through my bones and beat through my skull, until my body screamed at me to curl up in a ball. But if I didn’t keep moving, I’d be endangering all of us.

  “Could she follow us here?” I managed the hoarse question.

  Kieran dipped his head lower, continuing to help me forward. “Who? Bezreth?”

  I nodded, a shudder passing through me.

  He stopped and turned me to face him. “I’ll keep you safe. I won’t leave you alone. She will never reach you.”

  Clinging to the words and to the determined set of his jaw, I managed to draw a deeper breath as we resumed the climb.

  Ahead of us, Nolan darted over a peak, then reappeared, giving an all-clear signal to his father. He waited for us to reach him, then raced forward again. His boundl
ess energy made me want to groan. Instead, I counted each successful step. One. Two. One. Two.

  Time swirled past. Kieran’s steadying arm faded from my awareness. Rocks and trees merged into a meaningless blur.

  From far away, I heard a light melody. Nolan was whistling. I blinked, the pain receding a little. Still trudging, I raised my head and looked around. The pale grey emptiness overhead had lightened to the soft white of caradoc wool. The tune gave me a piece of life to grab onto. I hummed along, aiming toward Nolan’s lithe form.

  “Nolan!” Kieran’s harsh whisper sounded close to my ear. The boy turned, and I felt Kieran shake his head, never breaking stride. “Quiet. It’s not safe.”

  Nolan nodded, scanned the ridgeline above us and the trail behind us, and continued on.

  “Can you remember everything that happened the past two days?” Kieran’s low voice rumbled near my ear.

  I stumbled, but he took more of my weight and helped me to regain my footing. “You mean do I remember how you lied? And all this hiking? Every step.”

  His shoulder moved in a low chuckle. “Good.”

  “Good?”

  “Bezreth’s drugs aren’t stealing your new memories. So if I fill you in on things, I won’t be wasting my breath.”

  I scowled at my feet. Irritating man. But conversation was distracting me from the pain. “All right. Explain. Why were we in Hazor?”

  “A complex question,” he said. “I know why I was there. You? Maybe Lyric and Braide Wood had become too painful for you. How’s that for irony? Maybe you were escaping your memories.” A note of sadness underlay his tone for a moment, but then as if the emotion were too uncomfortable for him, he shrugged and breathed a half-laugh. “Or maybe you thought someone needed to keep me in line.”

  I snorted. I’d only known him a few days, but I already knew that would have been an impossible task. “Start at the beginning. Tell me what you know about my life.”

  He paused to cinch his sword belt more tightly, repositioned his arm around me, and nudged me forward. “You were a scrawny little thing, and always singing. Lukyan told your parents you should be a songkeeper, and he taught you himself until you apprenticed in Lyric. Your clan is Braide Wood. A bunch of backward, stubborn farmers and woodsmen.” But he couldn’t hide the affection in his tone as he described the village and the people there. His quiet voice spun a beautiful story, filling my ears with bits of the everyday in a place that I now longed to visit.

  One fact wedged like a thorn in my thoughts. Kieran said I’d served the One. Yet the One had clearly turned His back on me, allowing me to fall under Bezreth’s control. Had my whole former life been built on a lie?

  Each time we stopped for rest, Kieran shoved a gourd into my hand and reminded me to drink, while he slipped back along the trail to check for pursuit. He and Nolan had several whispered discussions, but I shut them out, too involved with my struggle against the fever that seemed to be eating away my bones and muscles in the same way that my time in the shrine had eaten away my memory.

  They dragged me on one last grueling climb through the most barren rocks yet, and then an awkward scramble down a slope toward a wide meadow that stretched forward forever, and swept into a deep forest to our left.

  When we reached the edge of the woods, Kieran drew in a deep breath. Some of the tension seemed to ease from his shoulders. “Almost there.”

  I shook my head. My legs were trembling. I couldn’t go any farther.

  Nolan hummed a line of a melody that felt strangely familiar and looked at his father. Kieran nodded, and Nolan began to sing. Even Kieran joined in, in a gruff rumbling approximation of the tune. The words broke free from some buried place inside of me. “Awesome in majesty, perfect in power . . .”

  I didn’t have strength to sing them, but the lyrics washed through my thoughts as we picked our way among the trees. Even with all the pain and confusion, hearing the music stirred a poignant joy inside me. One day I’d have to confront my anger at the One who’d abandoned me, but for now I let the beauty of the music comfort me.

  “We’re almost there,” Kieran said when the song finished.

  I was about to see my home. Surely the sight of my village would unlock all the memories. I’d find myself again.

  We reached a ridge that looked down on rooftops scattered among the trees, where neat log homes nestled beneath sheltering branches.

  Kieran let go of me and let me sink to the covering of pine needles. He watched me expectantly.

  I returned his stare blankly. “What?”

  His face clouded, but he quickly covered his expression and shot a warning glance at Nolan. “Never mind.”

  But cold realization expanded in my chest, threatening to drown me. He thought I should know these trees, this hill, the sweet spicy scent of the air. But it was all still blank to me.

  Chapter

  19

  Linette

  Kieran delivered me to the healer’s lodge. As soon as my body realized that the relentless hike was over, I fell into a hard sleep full of feverish nightmares and cold sweats. Gentle hands propped my head and poured bitter concoctions down my throat. A quiet voice sang through the night, weaving in and out of my dreams.

  The next morning, a young woman knelt beside my pallet, holding a steaming mug. “Blessed first light. The crisis has passed.” She offered me the cup. “How do you feel?”

  “Better.” I eased upward, relieved to find my muscles supported me. The twisting, burning pain inside my bones was gone, as if poisons had finally left my system. Yet when I gently probed my memories, they remained behind stone as thick and black as any wall in Sidian.

  “You look stronger. I thought you might like some clavo.”

  I sipped deeply of the warm, spicy liquid, savoring the comforting flavors. “Where are Kieran and Nolan?”

  “I believe they planned to leave Braide Wood at first light.”

  My stomach wrenched, and I handed the mug back to the young healer, unable to swallow any more. I’d been abandoned—again. Tossed aside like the peel of a mesana vine—a nuisance discarded without a second thought. Not that I would miss Kieran’s abrasiveness, but Nolan had felt like a friend.

  The woman watched me with concern. “Are you able to speak with a visitor? He’s been waiting to see you.”

  I brightened and pushed to my feet, finding my legs wobbly but functioning. “Lead on.”

  After helping me dress, she guided me down a series of hallways to a bright open lounge. Small groups of people chattered and laughed, while others sat in quiet conversation with assistants, waiting to meet with a healer.

  A white-haired man approached, leaning heavily on a walking stick, yet radiating joyous vigor with each step. “Well met, child.”

  I didn’t move, still clutching the arm of the attendant.

  He hobbled forward and swept me into a surprisingly firm hug. Confidence and courage seemed to seep straight into my skin.

  When he stepped back, tiny wrinkles formed starbursts around his eyes.

  “It’s good to meet you.” I managed a shy smile. “I’m Linette.”

  His smiling starbursts drooped, and compassionate tenderness moistened his eyes. “Oh, child, I know your name. I spoke to the One on your behalf every day while you were in Hazor.”

  Another person I was supposed to know. My throat tightened. Would I ever remember? Could I find a way to rebuild a life?

  The man didn’t give me time to dwell on my fears. “I’m Lukyan. The eldest songkeeper of Braide Wood. Let’s walk outside. When we face a big problem, it helps to look at the big world the One has formed, to remind ourselves of His capability.”

  Lukyan leaned on his walking stick and offered his other arm to me. My first strides were tentative, but the weakness receded with each new step. He was right. The tang of pine air, the glimpses of
wide sky through the trees, even the crunch of pine needles underfoot all lifted my spirits.

  Slowly, his name registered. “Kieran told me about you. How long have you known me? What can you tell me about who I am? Do I have family here?”

  “I knew you when you were a twinkle in your parents’ eyes. At your dedication, the One whispered to me that His hand would be on your life in a special way. You were the youngest apprentice the songkeepers ever took on, and when your parents died—”

  A small gasp escaped my lips. Another hope tore from me like support beams from a house. “I don’t have family?”

  He squeezed my hand. “The songkeepers have been your family, and the One has been your Father.”

  I mustered a grateful smile but felt another layer of loss. Why should I be grieving the parents I couldn’t even remember? Yet I did grieve. And the songkeepers who had replaced my family. Would they welcome me and take me in now?

  I turned onto a path that led toward wetlands lush with shrubs. A flock of moths burst out of a cluster of reeds and surprised a laugh from me as they danced away and glided over the water of a tranquil pond. A solitary heron posed in the distance, embodying stillness.

  “This was your favorite place to create new songs,” Lukyan said quietly. “Some part of you still knows that.”

  It was true. He had let me chose the direction, and I’d led us here. Hope flickered. Maybe I could resurrect all the buried parts of me. I settled on a log and waited for him to ease down beside me. “So tell me everything you know about me. What foods do I like? Why was I in Hazor? Where do I live? Who is Kieran?” Why did he leave without saying good-bye? Why does he continue to haunt my thoughts?

  Lukyan’s eyes widened, then quickly softened. “Kieran caused a bit of irritation among the staff at the healer’s lodge when you were brought in. He insisted on staying beside you the entire night. He’d still be here now, but news from Lyric . . .” He pressed his lips together. “Not something you need to worry about right now. But he was needed there.”

  A small hollow space in my heart filled with warmth as I thought of Kieran watching over me. I might be lost and confused, but I hadn’t been abandoned. It was good to know someone had kept watch, especially if Bezreth had sent soldiers to find me and bring me back.