Laerwen reached a tendril of her own Energy toward him and gently drew his in, forging a connection between them both. Following the mental path across and into Laerwen, Andulmaion anchored himself to a wisp of her thought and then followed the healer around while she worked.
During the past week, they’d healed scratches and half-healed cuts on her hands, arms and legs, helped bruises fade, and strengthened strained muscles. Today Laerwen headed toward Analindë’s mage connections and energies. It was the first time she’d let him accompany her to this place; she’d always gone alone before.
Analindë’s mage corridors glowed ethereally. Mage corridors fascinated him. He’d learned about them at school, but only in theory. He’d never been able to find his own, so hers were the first ones he’d seen. Thin lines branched throughout her body, echoing the veins that carried her blood. Like her heart was to her blood vessels, power coalesced within her. The only difference was that there were two central hubs for her mage corridors. As expected, the first power hub was in the center of her chest; the second was located in her head. The glow emanating from her connections ranged from a pale buttercup yellow to blackish red. The blackish red areas were where the corridors were damaged the most. Some of the corridors were dim, either because they had not been found or because they’d been charred to a crisp from overuse. Others were bright from use; both raw and red, a step away from becoming dim; and lastly, there were stable and strong corridors with synapses that glowed healthily from being newly repaired where rawness lay just underneath.
The healing Laerwen and Vinriel had performed was well on its way to making a difference, but it would be a long time before Analindë was truly well. Despite the work that the healers had done, many areas still pulsed an angry blackish red that called out to be soothed and healed.
They stood just outside one such corridor, except that this section was mostly dim and dying. He fed Laerwen Energy of his own while he stood watching Analindë’s Energy pulsing through the connection in front of them. Laerwen worked quickly, a Master. At last Andulmaion spoke.
«Will the corridors ever heal?»
«In time most will,» came the somber reply. «At least they aren’t shouting as strongly as they used to.»
Shout? He looked at the blistered, red areas and wondered what they yelled. They moved to a new section, and he shunted more Energy toward her as she continued to work.
«We’ve done much good work already; this is the last of the critical areas. Here.» Laerwen drew Andulmaion’s focus to a particularly bright spot. «Would you like to try?»
«Thank you, yes. Where do I–» He searched the spot anxiously.
«Start at the edge and layer toward the middle.»
Andulmaion drew a small piece of Energy from himself, infusing it with the intent to heal. It began to glow a faint green. He stretched the Energy until it was transparent, then broke it into pieces, layering them one by one over the bright spot. Gently he worked each one down, into, and around the damaged section, soothing and calming as he went until it glowed with a healthy patina. After awhile he drew back to observe.
In the time it had taken him to perform a passable job on this one spot, Laerwen had expertly covered four. He watched her as she spun Energy out, layering it with an ease born of centuries of practice. Her energies glowed a deep rich green. «How do I make mine that color?»
«You can’t; it only comes with time and practice.»
Puzzled Andulmaion turned back toward his spot. There was a small section that glowed brighter than the rest, so he layered his energies until an even glow flowed throughout the spot. Then, as he had watched Laerwen do time after time when she’d finished working on an area, he worked section by section, moving through the spot, checking that Analindë’s energies flowed smoothly. Energy buzzed beneath his touch, bringing numbness. The numbness distracted him since theoretically it was the wisp of thought that was turning numb, not his actual physical hands, which were a few steps away. Pushing the thought away, he focused back on his task. When he found spots where the Energy caught or pooled, he smoothed it out, then pushed so that it flowed in the right direction.
As he moved back to study his work, he felt Laerwen watching. «Well done. Almost as good as one of my new apprentices.» Andulmaion felt the chuckle more than heard it. «No, really, it is excellent work. One day you will make a great healer; it is a fortunate mage who can heal himself and others around him. Now watch.»
Andulmaion sat on the edge of Laerwen’s wisp of self and watched in awe as she sent a green wave of Energy across the neural network they’d worked upon.
«Now that we have the hot spots under control, we can focus on the area as a whole.»
They pulled back to a wider view and she spun rich emerald energies out around her. They flew to the network of passages and wrapped themselves around the pathways and connections, healing as they went. With a sigh, she paused. «One more stop before we finish for the day.»
The corridor that they traveled grew larger as they went, similar to following a river upstream before the water has split to spread across a delta plain. The widened path carried a more forceful flow of Energy as they went.
It led them to her source.
It was the largest source he’d ever seen—not that he had seen many—it was immense. Even though great amounts of Energy constantly flowed out of her source to meet her body’s efforts at self-healing, the source appeared full. Andulmaion was stunned. A beautiful buttercup yellow shone and sparkled every which way, illuminating the large cavern in a sunny glow. The newly formed walls that hemmed in the Energy glittered darkly, a raw hurt emanating from them.
«How she ever made it to Mirëdell I will never know,» Laerwen spoke as she sent broad swaths of dark green to liberally coat the source’s walls. He quickly shifted copious amounts Energy from within himself to support the healer’s efforts.
«The alternate plane shield saved her. She should have died from the pain. Ripping the energies from your body and enlarging your source as she did does that you know.» At his silence she prompted him, «Brings great pain. Somehow she learned how to replenish her energies. That alone kept her alive long enough to make it here.» She sent a tendril of Energy out to search for any critical spots. «Judging by the damage we have seen, she must have stopped several times a day to regain enough strength to carry on. Self-healing to this extent requires vast amounts of Energy.» He hadn’t known but grunted in agreement anyway. The effort of shifting this much power over to Laerwen was taxing. He felt short of breath, which was ridiculous since he wasn’t even in his body to begin with.
«I can’t imagine what it must have been like after that initial blast. Poor dear. This will be the last time we need to do this; she’ll manage the rest.»
She started pulling less Energy from him, so he joined her in spinning healing energies out onto the glittering black walls surrounding them. The reddish rawness embedded within the walls was slowly edging away, leaving only blackness. From what Laerwen had shared with him, the walls hemming in her source would always remain glittery black because of the way the space had been formed. Fortunately, by the time they finished their work today the walls wouldn’t hurt half as much as they had before, even though they remained black. He felt weak from the strain of just healing this small section and wondered what Analindë must have felt like while self-healing for weeks on end.
«We have done enough.» Laerwen stopped him from sending out yet another layer of healing Energy. He took the ball of power and spun it back into himself, then followed her up and out, detaching himself from both Analindë and Laerwen as he regained his own body. “Will you let her stay awake today?”
“Yes, I think so. It will do her good to be up and about for a time. Although she will be sleepy, her body will regain its normal rhythms, and that in itself will be good.”
Laerwen flicked one last spark of Energy toward the young woman lying in the bed.
Analindë awoke in a fogg
y haze. She heard voices of a man and woman. The woman’s voice reminded Analindë of her grandmother. The sound was gentle and welcoming with a touch song. “Laerwen,” Analindë’s voice croaked from disuse. The man’s song was also familiar; it felt like playful sea winds that had accompanied her on a long dark voyage.
“Wake-up my dear, I have brought your lunch. If you are good and eat it all, Andulmaion will teach you some new piece of Energy work.”
Analindë turned her head toward the insistent voice. The foggy haze pulled at her thoughts, but the gentle voice kept calling her name. She opened her eyes, blinked a few times, and faces came into focus. Oh, Andulmaion. “I’d love to learn something new.” Laerwen winked at Andulmaion and the handsome man smiled back.
“Here, let me help you sit up. Andulmaion, would you please fetch her tray? I left both your lunches on the table.”
“My pleasure.” Andulmaion disappeared from the room.
“Analindë, tell me . . . how do you feel?”
“Beyond the usual aches? Like my head is full of fog. I can’t think straight.”
Laerwen dug through the small bag slung crosswise over her torso and pulled out a small box. Inside were bunches of dried herbs enclosed in transparent cloth packets. Selecting one with a red string woven along the top, she said, “Ah, this will do. Andulmaion, would you mind warming this pot of water?”
“My pleasure.” He smiled at the older woman as he gently set the lunch tray on the nightstand, then stared intently at the pot Laerwen had prepared. “There, that should do it. It will not cool for some time yet.” He stepped back into the other room, leaving them alone. Analindë heard the clink of dishes. He was either giving her privacy or he wanted to eat alone today. Puzzled, Analindë turned back to the healer.
“Thank you,” Laerwen called out, then poured steaming water into a large cup and set it aside. Analindë watched the herb packet bob up and down in the water, then eyed the tray Andulmaion had placed next to her bed.
“Soup again?”
“Yes, Harvest Lentil. But I brought some of your favorite bread and there is fresh butter.” Laerwen broke the dark crusty bread into small pieces and proceeded to butter them. “Here,” she said handing Analindë a chunk. Analindë’s hand shook slightly as she took hold of the piece of bread. How much longer would she be like this?
“Have they found any sign of my parents yet?” she asked hopefully. At Laerwen’s brisk shake of the head she added wistfully, “Or, how they died?”
“ . . . no, the high mages have not yet discovered which spell . . . overcame them.” She wondered what Laerwen didn’t want to tell her but was distracted. There was something else she’d intended to ask but couldn’t remember. Analindë finished chewing the bread and Laerwen handed her another chunk.
Analindë studied the stars swirling in the depths of the older woman’s eyes. Care was there, but so was a great deal of worry. Analindë had seen the worry there regularly; she’d also watched as patterns of fondness grew stronger and stronger within Laerwen’s eyes. This pleased Analindë, for she had come to greatly care for the older woman as well. But the worry bothered her now; it swirled very prominently in Laerwen’s eyes today. Analindë’s mother had taught her how to read eyes, for it was the one place where true emotions could be seen.
Relatively few elves learned how to dampen down the galaxy, like patterns constantly forming and reforming in their eyes, so it presented a reliable way to see if someone was lying. And what their real thoughts were.
Analindë didn’t press Laerwen about her worries; it would be impolite to do so. Instead, she finished eating, leaving the healer to putter around at her tasks. Just about the time she’d finished her soup Laerwen picked up the tea cup, discarded the herb packet, and handed it to her saying, “Drink. It will help you think clearly for a few hours.”
“Thank you,” Analindë said before sipping the tisane. It tasted like springtime, fresh and airy, with green growing things. It left a sweet taste in her mouth.
After the meal, Analindë sat swirling the dregs of her tea around the bottom of her cup, “How many days has it been? I’ve lost track.”
“Seventeen. Do you have enough strength to make it to the wash room?”
“Yes, I believe I do.” Analindë swung her legs over the edge of the bed; her head felt much clearer since she’d eaten and she felt stronger. “The tea seems to have helped.”
“Yes, it would.” Analindë knew better than to ask what was in it. If she studied with the healers, they might one day tell her their secrets, but not now. “It usually takes a few days to recover from the sleep you have been in. You will have a few hours of clarity before the fog reclaims you.”
“You’re–, not going to put me back into the sleep?” Analindë asked warily.
“No, it has done all it can for you. Now healing the rest of the way is only a matter of time.” They shuffled slowly across the room, Laerwen supporting her on one side, her legs trembling beneath her. “Your strength will return quicker than you think. Do not worry.” Laerwen patted her arm comfortingly.
Each bedroom in the tower connected to a private washroom. Hers was breathtakingly simple and elegant. White marble surrounded the room; a golden pattern wove its way around the edges of the floor. To one side of the room lay a large rectangular block of marble; the middle was hollowed out and plated with copper. A simplified version of the floor’s pattern ran around its sides.
On the other side of the room stood a sink and a counter made out of the same marble. A mosaic of a waterfall, pool, trees—their branches hanging low to brush the water—covered one wall. Mage lights in the shape of a mystical phoenix hovered near the ceiling. They were the one fanciful item in the room. It was said a graduating apprentice gave them to Master Therin’s grandfather in jest upon reaching the level of Master. The joke became funnier upon discovery that they couldn’t be taken down or changed. So they remained.
Analindë headed for a small room near the towel racks to use the necessary while Laerwen filled the bathing tub with steaming water. Years ago the elves had found a way to run copper pipes through the stonework of the old school. First, stonemasons made hollows through the stone, connecting the different rooms of the school to cisterns in the mountainside.
Later, metal masters had formed the pipes within the stone hollows to keep minerals from leeching from the stone and into the water. Then the high mages pressurized the system and set a heating and cooling spell into the pipes of each bathing room. The entire project had taken about fifty years to complete.
Laerwen took a jar from a shelf above the towels. “Are the jasmine salts okay?”
“Yes, that sounds heavenly.”
Analindë unbraided her hair, undressed and climbed into the welcoming heat. She slipped under the water and stretched out, enjoying the soothing warmth as it seeped into her muscles. She ached in odd places from lying still too long.
When she surfaced, Laerwen said, “Here, let me wash your hair for you.” The older woman massaged and lathered soap onto her hair and scalp while Analindë relaxed and let her mind drift.
“Thank you.” Analindë submerged herself to rinse the suds from her long hair. By the time she’d finished the simple task her arms were tired and shaky. She swung her hair to the side and lay back again to soak in the warm fragrant water, hoping to regain some strength before she clambered out of the tub.
“Call me when you wish to get out, I’ll help brush your hair.”
Sometime later, Analindë sat contentedly on a couch in the sitting room, hair braided, and dressed in clean clothes. The soft material caressed her skin. It felt good to be out of the scout’s clothes and back in a soft, pretty dress.
“Laerwen said you had a new trick to teach me?” She eyed the older apprentice—he was about Riian’s age—and wondered what he wanted her to attempt today. So far Andulmaion had taught her to use spells to pick a lock, make crumbs disappear off a tabletop, and clean the outside of a window, a
ll without moving from the couch. Late afternoon sun shone through those newly cleaned windows reflecting off the various jeweled stones embedded decoratively in the walls.
“She’s right, and it’s a marvelous trick at that.” Andulmaion sat down in the armchair to the side of her and leaned forward. “Would you like to guess what it is? No? Well then I’ll show you.”
With a wave of his hand, the wooden table that sat between them turned into a gilt masterpiece of metal and colored glass. He smiled, “Well, it is a bit overdone, but you get the point?”
“I . . . I can’t do that. Perhaps if I study for a year I’ll–”
“Touch it.”
Analindë reached out to run her fingers along the intricate metalwork, but to her astonishment, instead of finding cool metal her fingers met smooth wood. “An illusion.” Analindë smiled and looked up at Andulmaion.
“Yes. Have you yet learned how?”
“No. My parents rarely found the need to make them. And when they did I was never allowed to watch.” She turned her head to stare out the window, her body slumped back into the couch. “I miss them.”
She looked out at the bleak, colorless scene below. Stark trees stretched bare branches skyward. Autumn had ended and winter had begun in earnest.
“I am so sorry for your loss. I can’t imagine how you must feel,” he said quietly as he shifted in his chair.
“So much has happened since they died. I don’t quite know yet how I feel myself.”
“Tell me about it. Try.” She turned to look at him, studying the stars in his eyes. They weren’t really stars per se, but little bits of light that spun and sparkled similar to the stars in the sky. Depending on the patterns the sparkles made, she could determine mood or intent. The stars in his eyes swirled deeply and gently, making her feel safe.
She glanced back at the windows and to the tree branches outside. A wind had picked up and now tossed the bare branches back and forth. She felt like that, buffeted around by things outside her control.
Analindë (The Chronicles of Lóresse) Page 14