“I did the one thing we are cautioned against doing: I ate the leaves of a Blighted tree. Oh, not in large quantities. In fact, I took a single leaf, dried it out, and ate only the tiniest sliver of it every day. And, though I thought at first it might kill me, and it did make me ill, it didn’t kill me. I stopped aging. The debilitating sickness that threatened my health receded and I have been thus ever since. And still, every day, I partake of the smallest portion of a ‘poison’ leaf.”
“And you haven’t told anyone about this?”
“No one. Oh, there have been times when I’ve been tempted. A few generations ago, I fell in love with a girl who developed a virulent disease. I spent many sleepless nights wrestling with the possibility of giving her doses. In the end, I didn’t. To this day, I don’t know if it was the right decision but I think if I made my discovery known, the consequences could be disastrous. Not only is eating even a small portion of a Blighted leaf dangerous but if news of this ‘immortality recipe’ reached the cities, think of the impact and abuses.”
I considered. I could see how this had been a hard choice for Father Backus. Unregulated, the consumption of Blighted leaves would result in many deaths from people adopting a “more is better” approach. And hundreds, if not thousands, of travelers would arrive here looking for this world’s version of The Fountain of Youth. The Blight would be deforested, the ecosystem ruined. On the other hand, if there was a chance to stay young and healthy longer, I’d want to know about the opportunity and would be willing to take the chance.
I was in no position to sit in judgment of Backus. But I wondered why, after all these years, he had chosen to share the secret with me. Was he that sure that I was a Summoner?
“Why tell me now?”
“Because of who you are and because you may need this knowledge at some point. I’m an old man and, although the leaves have kept me alive and hale for many generations, I have a… premonition… that the end is near. Of late, I’ve begun to feel my age more keenly. It would be unfortunate for this knowledge to die with me. But there’s another reason, something specific to you.” Then, with a smile, he added, “But that’s a topic for tomorrow’s lesson. Once again, we’ve gone past our allotted time for teaching. Your chores await and I wouldn’t want to be accused of keeping you from them.”
Dumbfounded, I stared at Backus, teacher turned tormentor. Surely that wasn’t it for today - pique my curiosity then end the lesson? Keep me hanging, unfulfilled, until tomorrow? I sat there for a few moments, my expression pleading with him to continue, but he gave every indication that he was done. He wasn’t the sort of man to relent, even in the face of doe eyes and a frown. With one hand, he made a shooing gesture. I ground my teeth in frustration.
“Patience, Janelle. It’s one of life’s most underrated and necessary characteristics.”
I departed, muttering a few phrases under my breath that, in the world I came from, would most likely have earned me a rebuke from the nearest adult. Backus either didn’t hear them, didn’t know what they meant, or wasn’t shocked that I used them.
My conversation with the priest lingered in my thoughts for the rest of the morning and into the afternoon as I went about my duties. My daily chores consisted of collecting soiled garments in a wicker basket and carrying them to the Greenswood River (which ran just west of town) where a group of children and older women would scrub them clean. Of all the tasks I had attempted during my brief sojourn in Aeris, this was the only one for which I had exhibited the necessary physical stamina. Even the washing, which at first had appeared innocuous, had proven to be beyond my limited capabilities; my arms had been too sore to continue after less than an hour. As for farming… I had never imagined it could be so arduous. A short time in the fields had left my soft hands so blistered that the healer’s ointment had been necessary to make them useful. So my “working day” consisted of a lot of walking back and forth with a heavy basket that I repeatedly loaded and unloaded. Never before had a scholar’s life held such appeal.
Later in the day, I had an opportunity to spend time with Samell during our mutual mid-afternoon break. As we sat in the shade of a house munching on nuts, berries, and non-Blight leaves (that tasted like romaine lettuce), I sought his opinion about some of the issues that were bothering me. He was one of the few people in Aeris I trusted and with whom I felt I could be open.
“Do you think I’m a Summoner?”
He chuckled. “That’s the third time you’ve asked me. My answer hasn’t changed. No one but a Summoner could have done to that earth reaver what you did. As far as I’m concerned, that’s proof. The skeptics weren’t out there with us but Esme and me, we know.”
It was compelling evidence but I wasn’t convinced. It’s wasn’t hard to believe I had been Summoned. After all, my transition from there to here fit the definition and it was hard to deny the reality of the situation. Maybe my abilities were just a manifestation in this world or something latent in my own. It wasn’t uncommon for people on Earth to claim to have ESP or a “sixth sense.” Being a Summoner was like being a wizard and, thus far, outside of killing the earth reaver, I hadn’t manifested any powers that would be considered magical.
“If I am, what would that mean to you? Personally.”
He appeared surprised by the question and a prolonged period of silence ensued as he considered his response. I didn’t press him. I was glad he was taking it seriously and not laughing it off. Finally, he spoke. “First, it means I’ve been privileged. Few people in their lifetime meet a Summoner. Until your arrival, no one in Aeris had except maybe Father Backus. Second, I feel a sense of responsibility. We owe each other our lives. That binds people. Summoners don’t just arrive for no reason and their paths are never easy. Eventually, you’ll have access to great powers. In a time of peace and prosperity, you might never need to use them.” He stopped abruptly, as if he had more to say but thought better of it.
“But…?” I pressed. I wanted to hear the unvoiced words. I wanted to understand what his “responsibility” meant to him.
“We may have crossed into what I’ve heard called a ‘turbulent era’. There have been whispers about this and what happened with the earth reaver makes me believe them. In all the years since Aeris’ settlement, there’s never been an earth reaver attack. Not one. Sightings have always been rare. Hunting expeditions from the south have occasionally set out to kill one and bring home the head as a trophy. None have succeeded. Now The Verdant Blight is growing at an unprecedented rate. A new Summoner has come into our midst. And not only has an earth reaver been sighted but it’s been slain in combat. Things aren’t as they always have been. And, whatever it is that you have to face, I can’t let you do it alone.”
I was touched by his words. It meant something that at least one of my new companions believed in me strongly enough to make such an offer. However much I hoped it wouldn’t come to that, I suspected Samell’s words would be put to the test. If the time arrived to leave behind his family, his duties here, and his home, would he still be as resolute?
“What do you think of Father Backus?” he asked.
“He’s nicer than I expected. He even has a sense of humor. And he hasn’t rapped my hand once with his little pointy stick.”
“You’re getting favorable treatment. He doesn’t want it said that he angered or abused a Summoner.” I couldn’t tell whether Samell was joking or not.
“How old do you think he is?” I asked, curious whether my friend had noticed the priest’s lack of aging.
“Old.”
“How old?”
“Can’t rightly say. Three generations, maybe? At least as old as the elders, probably older. I guess when you get to be his age, the number of years you’ve been alive doesn’t much matter.”
Perhaps that explained how Backus had been able to continue in his position without anyone questioning him. If his aging had been frozen when he had been young, it surely would have been detected but, since he had alrea
dy been old, the lack of advancing years wasn’t as noticeable. I realized that his hairiness was probably more a means of camouflage than evidence of lazy grooming. Presumably, those who had realized the truth about him had decided to turn a blind eye. He was, after all, the chosen representatives of the gods in Aeris. Perhaps, they reasoned, that gave him unusual longevity. They would likely be shocked if they learned what constituted “unusual.”
The next morning, I arrived early for my lesson with Father Backus. He opened the door at my eager knock.
“Amazing! A pupil arriving before the appointed time of the lecture. In all my years of teaching - and you know there have been a great many of them - I don’t think that’s ever happened. Come in, Janelle, and I’ll satisfy your burning curiosity before it consumes you.”
I doffed my moccasins and sat cross-legged on the floor in front of his chair as was my custom. I tried to contain my impatience but knew I wasn’t doing a good job of it. As Backus had advised yesterday, my patience needed improvement.
“You worry that you’re not really a Summoner.” It wasn’t a question.
I confirmed his suspicion. “You say I am. Samell believes I am. Probably more than half the village would agree with you both. But I don’t feel it. You’ve said that Summoners have a direct channel to magic that regular people don’t have. If that channel’s there, I don’t know how to find it.”
“Putting aside the simple truth that you killed a powerful, dangerous creature comprised of earth magic without touching it, have you ever attempted to use your powers?”
I hadn’t. Then again, I didn’t know how I would do it. I told him as much.
“I can’t help you, I’m afraid. It’s either something you’re going to have to discover by yourself or, if you need guidance, with the aid of another Summoner. But there’s something I can do for you. I believe there’s a test that can confirm without question whether you are what I believe you to be.”
My heart skipped a beat. If there was a way to take away the uncertainty, to give me clarity… “What do I have to do?”
His face became serious; his eyes locked with mine. “This is no trivial matter, Janelle. What I propose isn’t without risk. If you are a Summoner, there’s little danger. But if you aren’t, and you take this test, it will kill you.”
Chapter Seven: The Summoner’s Test
Kill me? Whatever price I had been expecting to pay to learn the truth, the possibility of dying was well outside of my comfort zone. My expression revealed my shock to the priest.
“I’ll admit it’s daunting, which is why you shouldn’t be too quick to accept,” said Backus. “But the evidence is strongly weighted in favor of your being a Summoner and, if you are, the leaves won’t hurt you. At worst, they’ll give you a sour stomach. They don’t taste very good. I can assure you that from experience, although I only eat a tiny portion each day.”
I wished I had his faith but I didn’t, yet a part of me needed to know. I couldn’t envision going through the next years of my life trapped in a state of uncertainty. Or worse, believing I was something that I wasn’t. Better a direct trip to Hades than lingering forever in the purgatory of not knowing. Someone had said that to me once. A grandmother, I think.
Although the rational part of my mind could accept the priest’s argument, the finality of failing the test made me balk. It was strange, though. Back in the other world, I couldn’t recall ever thinking about death seriously - or at least as it applied to me. Death was something that happened to old people or sick people. Here, though, it had been a constant companion: The Verdant Blight, the river, the earth reaver…
“If I’m not… Isn’t there something you could give me? Like an antidote?”
“A Blight leaf doesn’t kill in the same way that a traditional poison does. It’s not like a five-pointed redvein or a purpleberry. The leaf is imbued with latent magic and, if someone with no affinity for magic consumes it, the reaction will cause a rapid, corrosive failure. There’s no known way to stop or reverse it. If a Summoner eats the leaf, its magic will be neutralized, absorbed into the body. So it would be like consuming an ordinary tree leaf - no better or worse. Not the tastiest or most nutritious of meals but certainly not fatal.”
“The risk makes it frightening.” This world might be unreal, but death here wasn’t.
“I can appreciate that. It’s easy for me to argue that the chances of your failing the test are small; I’m not the one taking it. And my dying at this overripe age would be of little consequence. I’ve lived the full life of a man four times over and long ago came to peace with my mortality. My continued existence comes at the sufferance of the gods. You, on the other hand, are young. Your life is ahead of you, not behind. I can understand how what I’m proposing might unnerve you. For that reason, I offer this merely as a possibility. If you want to proceed, I can help you. If not, we can continue with our lessons of history, culture, and geography. We need not discuss this again. That’s entirely up to you. The way of the Summoner is hard enough without me making it harder.”
After that, Father Backus began the day’s lesson as if he hadn’t just placed a millstone around my neck. I absorbed nothing of what he taught over the next several hours. Despite enduring a lengthy discourse about Gilbert the Great, I couldn’t have named a single exploit of the legendary hero. Backus’ voice was a background drone but I think he understood my mental state. Living three-hundred years gave a man insight into the workings of a person’s mind. I suspect Backus may have known what my eventual decision would be even if I didn’t.
I was distracted even after I left the priest’s abode. Fortunately, my chores didn’t require much in the way of thought. Muscle memory took over: load, walk, unload, re-load, walk, unload, repeat. I wished I hadn’t been made aware of the test. It would have been easier to continue in a state of ambiguity, not certain one way or another, than to know that the answer was available. It was like the story about the slave offered a choice between two doors. Behind one was salvation and freedom. Behind the other was certain death. An impossible choice but hardly more tolerable than to walk back into slavery knowing what might have been.
“What is it, Janelle?” asked Samell that afternoon as we savored a respite from our respective duties. The shade from a house kept us cool as we sat with our backs against its outer wall. In just a few days, my friend had become attuned enough to my moods to recognize my distraction. I needed to unburden myself to someone. Maybe he could advise me.
“There’s a test - a Summoner’s test. Backus knows about it. If I take it, it’ll let me know for sure that I’m a Summoner.”
“That’s wonderful!”
If only it was… “If I fail, it’ll kill me.”
Samell’s nonchalant reaction surprised me. He merely shrugged. “Doesn’t much matter. You’re a Summoner so it won’t kill you.”
The certainty with which he said those words almost made me believe. Almost. But it wasn’t his life. Failure would cost him a friend not his future.
“I wish I had your confidence.” I tried not to sound dejected but failed.
“Of course you don’t have it. You don’t come from here. You don’t know our ways, our history, our stories. Everyone who knows your story believes you’re a Summoner except you. As for the rest, they’ll either come around or they won’t. There’s really no need to take this test except that you need to be convinced. The lack of conviction is why you’re scared.”
“So it’s a Catch-22.”
Samell gave me a look of blank incomprehension. Of course he didn’t understand the reference. He brushed it aside. “Backus wouldn’t have proposed it if he thought there was a chance of losing you. He knows your uniqueness and importance. I’m sure he’s prayed about it and sought the gods’ advice and they wouldn’t steer him wrong.”
“I accept that I’m one of The Summoned, that I come from a different world. But Backus has already admitted that being one of The Summoned doesn’t require me to be a
Summoner. What if I’m just someone picked at random and brought here? What if the only thing special about me is that I’m an outsider?”
“To bring you here, a Summoner gave his life. That’s as big a sacrifice as anyone can make. He wouldn’t have done that if there wasn’t something very special about you. A Summoner can only cast one Summoning. To do it, he would have had to be sure.”
Talk about putting pressure on a person… In addition to worrying about whether this test would kill me, I had to live with a heavy burden of expectations. I hadn’t even thought about it until Samell spelled it out. I had no idea how a Summoning worked. Did the Summoner who brought me here have a choice or had it been a random trick of fate? Had he acted out of calculation or desperation? Questions heaped on questions with far too few answers.
“What’s the test?” asked Samell.
“Eating a leaf.”
“From a Verdant Blight tree,” he surmised. “I can see why that might worry you. No cure for that poison.”
“Thanks for reminding me.”
Puzzlement crinkled his features. In Aeris, people rarely (if ever) used sarcasm so its meaning was usually lost on them. “Is Father Backus certain you won’t die if you’re a Summoner?”
I suppose that was another concern. What if I was a Summoner but the test was faulty? What if Backus’ deduction about the Summoner’s ability to absorb the leaf’s poison wasn’t right? It’s not as if he’d had a chance to prove that. His assumptions might be logical but that didn’t mean they were true.
“He seems sure,” I said, doubt dripping from every word.
Samell offered a comforting smile. “I believe you’re a Summoner. Every bone in my body tells me that’s the case. So much about you is different from every other girl in the village… But if you’re that concerned about the test, don’t take it. It won’t change who or what you are.”
Lingering Haze (The Elusive Strain Book 1) Page 7