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Spellkeeper

Page 29

by Courtney Privett


  Behind Ragan, the hearth fire sparked and crackled. Below Hael's bed, something creaked. Itrek must have woken, but she doubted she'd see him this cycle. Freedom for him so far meant keeping to himself with the books and warm blankets Hael had found him for his cellar. He was quiet and hadn't yet gone outside to walk among the Uldru and Mountain Home people, who still feared him.

  Ragan tucked in the end of the gauze and then arranged a pile of pillows under Hael's arm. “Keep it elevated. The less it swells, the better. You're already all bruised up.” He set a pouch of crushed ice on her wrist. “Don't keep this on for too long at a time or it'll damage the tissues. I'd give you minutes, but that won't mean much to you. If you don't mind, I'll lurk about your living room tonight so I can remind you to take the ice off and on. Need to go back home for a few minutes first. I've got some medicinal tea blends that might do you some good. Is that okay with you?”

  Hael nodded. A small white head popped out of Ragan's jacket pocket. The creature stuck out its pink tongue, then trilled.

  Ragan absentmindedly stroked the creature’s long neck. “Finally awake? You slept through some shit, little one.”

  “Are you ever going to eat your snack, or do you just like to talk to it?” Hael asked, her voice hoarse and strained.

  “Snack?” Ragan's eyes widened. His eyebrows rose and he gave a short laugh. “Kid, this is a dragon. Itty bitty dragon, but a dragon nonetheless. His name's Cadriel and he's bound to me.”

  “Why is it so small?” Hael asked. “The other dragons here are big. Even the young ones are big.”

  “Cadriel's a pixie dragon,” Ragan said. He held up his palm and the dragon scurried onto his arm. It was the size of an average salamander, but it had small horns and pink wings. “He won't get very big. He's my little buddy, though, so don't you even think about eating him.” Ragan winked, then stood and stepped away from the bed. “I'll be back in a few minutes. I'll grab you some food along with the tea. You could probably use it.”

  Ragan left Hael contemplating what few minutes was. Time was still confusing. Minutes and weeks and months and days and hours . . . so many terms, and each with a different value. She recognized the words now but didn't understand their meanings. Time and distance and infinite skies gathered like insects on rotting food.

  Hael looked down at her splinted arm. It still throbbed, but the ice and immobility took away the sharpest of the pain. She was restless and wanted to walk around, but it was better to stay still. She closed her eyes and listened. The house was quiet aside from the scuff of Itrek's bare feet against the cellar floor. Elan must have left to join the other children for reading lessons before Ragan returned Hael home.

  A series of loud creaks sounded from the cellar. The wooden door groaned as Itrek opened it and entered the kitchen. Each sound he made echoed through the still house as he rummaged through the cupboards. He was likely looking for food to calm his hunger while he waited for the dragon riders to return from their evening hunt.

  Hael swallowed the metallic taste of her pain and called out, “Itrek?”

  The Varaku's pale gray eyes peered into the bedroom. His tentacles twitched as he tilted his head toward his shoulder. “Why are you on your bed?”

  “I am injured.” Hael gestured toward her arm. “The Guardian pulled me too hard. I can't help you with anything for now. Ragan will come back soon, so he can help you with food, or you can go find Kendrian.”

  Itrek straightened his head and his wide mouth drooped into a frown. “Why did the Guardian hurt you?”

  “I intruded. I don't think she meant to break me.”

  “Does it hurt?” Itrek asked. He took two hesitant steps into the room, then stopped at the end of the bed.

  “Yes. It was worse before Ragan wrapped it. He gave me this ice. He said it would help.” Hael watched Itrek's submissive posture with interest. Even presented with an injured Uldru, he revealed himself as non-threatening. As long as he continued to behave in such a benign way, Hael would continue to treat him like any other person.

  Itrek slowly approached the left side of the bed. He pushed his drifting tentacles away from his face, then looked down at Hael's arm. “I don't need secrets anymore. I have no one to keep them from.”

  “What?”

  He looked up her and smiled. “I can help with your pain, if you want me to.”

  Hael regarded his expression with concern. To the hive Varaku, taking away an Uldru's pain meant killing them. “If you hurt me, the others will kill you.”

  Itrek startled. “No. I have no desire to hurt you. I understand why you misunderstood me. I'm sorry. I think I can help with your pain. Will you let me try?”

  Hael waited a breath before nodding.

  Itrek's gray fingers touched her golden ones. A tingling warmth began at the touch and spread up her arm. He watched her face as he said, “I was a young child when I found I had a skill that did not belong to my caste. My mother cut her finger and I took away her pain. She beat me for it. A loremaster cannot become anything else. I would have made a poor and irritable loremaster.”

  “You're a healer?” Hael whispered. It was absurd. Varaku were born into castes, and petitioning to leave their designated caste meant being exiled from their own families. Most castes could intermate with other castes, but healer Varaku were only allowed to mate with other healers so they often traveled between hives to keep their bloodlines fresh. The spontaneous appearance of a healer in any other caste was unheard of. The only thing that would make sense was if one of Itrek's parents wasn't who he thought they were. If that was the truth, his creation was a caste-crime.

  Itrek's tentacles trembled. “No. I would never be accepted into the healer caste. I cannot repair the fracture in your wrist, but when I touch you I know it is there, and I can make it stop hurting for a while. Be careful, though. Pain says something is wrong, and it is easy to make an injury worse when it is not felt.” He let go of Hael's hand and examined his fingers. “I couldn't tell anyone before. Now I think it is safe.”

  Hael reached across the bed and pressed her palm against Itrek's angular jaw. “It doesn't hurt now. No one here will punish you for your gifts. Maybe one of the people can teach you how to be a healer. Maybe Ashala. She's a physician.”

  The door to outside swung open and Ragan let himself back in the house. He struck a fire in the hearth and hung a tea kettle over it before returning to Hael's room.

  Tension crept across Ragan's shoulders as he noticed Itrek. “Oh. I'm . . . sorry, might take a while to get used to seeing you out. You okay, Hael?”

  Hael smiled and accepted the hand pie that Ragan offered. It was warm and smelled of oily fish. “Itrek can take away pain. I don't hurt right now.”

  “Careful with that. If he didn't fix the break, you don't wanna move it or bang it around just because you can't feel it.”

  “I know. I'll be careful.”

  Ragan's arm brushed against Itrek's as he removed the ice pouch. Itrek startled, then touched the back of Ragan's hand. He closed his eyes and whispered, “Does your family know how much physical pain you carry?”

  “Don't have much of a family here,” Ragan said. He raised an eyebrow and sniffed. “What do you know about my pain?”

  “Is the empath not your son?”

  “Not by blood.” Ragan took a step back and stared at the wall.

  Itrek swayed side-to-side. “You have old pain in your shoulder, a dislocation injury that didn't heal right. It is in spasm right now. Your leg pains you from a more recent fracture. You have other pains, too. Chronic pains throughout your body, aches you can't explain. They come from your nerves. You have been hurt so many times that your mind now tells you everything is pain. You try to ignore it, but you're so tired and sore that your bad days are battles.”

  Ragan's triangular ears twitched as he squinted at Hael. “Hael, you seem to have replaced Tessen with this . . . Itrek. Can't say I like that.”

  “I'm not an empath like your son,�
� Itrek said. His tentacles swayed in sync with his body. “The healer caste calls people like me sensors. I can determine the source of pain with a touch, but I can't heal it and I can't feel what you feel. I can relieve some pain with the same touch.”

  Ragan's eyes remained fixed on Hael. “You really trust him?”

  “I do,” Hael replied. She finished the pie and declined the second that Ragan offered. “Do you remember your family, Ragan, or were they taken from you when you were too young to remember?”

  “That's a strange way to word it,” Ragan said. He bit into the hand pie that Hael hadn't wanted, then reached into his basket and gave another to Itrek. The Varaku studied the food for several breaths before taking a small bite. “Yeah, I know my family. My mom died last year. Gave her own life to save mine. My dad's still alive as far as I know. I have a bunch of brothers and sisters, some from my mom and more from my dad, but none from both. I'm their only kid together, kind of a reckless mistake they made when they were kids themselves, probably younger than you.”

  Hael stared at her splinted hand. “I knew my parents. Many Uldru don't. They died not many cycles before I destroyed Vetarex. Itrek's parents ate them.”

  Itrek shuddered and looked away.

  Hael shook her head. “You are not your parents. You are better than them. You are you.” She waited until his shoulders relaxed before continuing. “I have my brother, Elan. I'm glad he's free with me. We had more brothers and sisters, but they were sold to other hives as infants.”

  Itrek clicked his tongue against his pointed teeth and said, “I had many brothers and sisters. I was the ninth of eleven children. My parents were cruel. I missed them until I realized I was relieved that they were dead.” He took another bite of the pie and chewed it slowly. “Do you have other children, Ragan, or only Tessen?”

  Ragan gasped and squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them again they were glossy. “I did. I had a son, Tessen's half-brother. Alon was just a little thing when he died, just a toddler. I know you lot are so familiar with death that it's just a normal part of your life, but we have it a little better here. Little kids aren't supposed to die.”

  Hael swallowed and tried to keep memories of her parents from breaking free. “We are not numb to death. We've learned to expect it, but that doesn't mean we accept it. It hurts, always. Every death hurts a little more.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean,” Ragan bowed his head and sighed. “What is it you wanted to ask me about? Back at the keep before all this nonsense happened?”

  Hael closed her eyes and walked through her memory. She could no longer remember why she had gone into the keep. “I...”

  “It's okay. A lot's happened. It'll come to you.”

  “You need to tell Rin her son and brother are gone.”

  “I . . . I can't. I mean, I have to, but I don't know how. I've made her cry enough for this lifetime.”

  Hael opened her eyes to see Itrek's confusion. She'd have to explain to him later. Soon all of Mountain Home would know that four people disappeared. As she watched Ragan rub away his tears, she said, “Tell her the truth. Tell her what you know. It's more than I know. Truth might hurt more at first, but lies hurt forever.” She inhaled deeply and her memory returned like a tunnel filling with water. “I remember now. I wasn't looking for you, specifically, but Iefyr and Elsin are gone now so I can't ask them. You can help me. I want to learn how to fight with a weapon like you do. Learning everything I can about this world also means learning how to defend myself and my people from it. Do you think you can teach me?”

  Ragan pressed his hands together in front of his mouth and nodded. “Yeah, sure. I like teaching combat and defense, and it'll be a good way to build some strength in that little body of yours. We'll have to wait until you've healed up, first. Is there a type of weapon you fancy?”

  “What do you fight with?” Hael asked.

  “I can do damage with just about anything, but I like my axe best.”

  “Then teach me how to fight with one of those.” Hael had no idea what an axe was, but she had heard Ragan was a skilled fighter. She had also heard him called what sounded like profanities by members of the Regiment. He seemed to be almost as much of an anomaly in Mountain Home as the Uldru were.

  “All right.” Ragan clicked his teeth together and cocked his head toward Itrek. “What about him? I'm thinking I should teach him a thing or two about self-defense, too. He's gonna need it if he ever leaves this valley. There's a lot of people out there who think it's their duty to harass those of us who've got no chance of fitting in.”

  Hael shrugged. “I don't speak for Itrek. He can decide on his own what he wants to learn.”

  Worry stiffened Itrek's posture. “I don't want to be seen as a threat by the Uldru. I think I'd rather see if the physician is willing to teach me her craft.”

  Ragan smiled as he leaned away from Itrek's rippling tentacles. “All right. You might consider learning a little self-defense though. No weapons, just good things to know if you're ever in a bind. It'll be a little different for someone with four arms, but I've got some ideas for you.”

  Itrek startled as the tea kettle whistled. “I accept your offer, but not now. I'm not yet comfortable going outside. I don't know if I ever will be.”

  Ragan stood and walked toward the door. “Take your time, kid. Hael, ice back on. You need to rest tonight. I know you've got things you wanna do, but that all can wait. Will you let yourself rest?”

  “Yes,” Hael replied. She was already restless, but she didn't want to prolong her healing by making the fracture worse. She relaxed onto her pillows and listened for the tea kettle to stop whistling. Be patient, always be patient, she reminded herself. An eternity of nights lie ahead.

  18

  Benny

  “The wood is too wet. We can't start a fire with this.” Radamar flipped the stick from one hand to the other before tossing it into the trees. “It's warm enough. We don't really need a fire tonight.”

  “Yeah, we do. You killed the alligator so we need to eat it. Would be a waste not to. And the wood's not too wet. I can spark a fire in just about anything.” Iefyr set a stripped length of branch against the others in the soggy campfire circle. He held both hands over the pile and snapped his heavy fingers. The tinder within the pile ignited. He pulled his hands upward, drawing the tiny flame into a roaring fire. He shrugged and nodded at the young red and black dragon at his side. “Auna will be able to do it too when she's older. Balefires are the only true dragons who can breathe fire.”

  “Huh.” Radamar made no attempt to hide his excitement. “You're a fire witch?”

  “Yes. Mediocre one, but still . . . didn't learn that about myself until I accidentally became dragonbound.” Tiny orange infernos sparkled in Iefyr's blue eyes as he watched Radamar across the fire. Aside from his red hair being shorter and the addition of a small scar on his forehead, the striking half-orc had hardly changed at all since Benny last saw him. He was still beautiful and her adolescent crush on him had clearly carried on into adulthood. He prodded the fire with a stick and asked, “Are you not dragonbound? I thought that was a Nightshadow thing.”

  Radamar shook his head, then held a skewered chunk of alligator meat over the fire. “I never earned the honor. I was my parents' youngest child and male. My family bred dragons, but we were not all bound. Our matriarch herself chose not to be bound, but that may have been because she was Duchess of the Jade Realm.”

  “Dragon-free realm by law. Would've complicated things.” Iefyr handed Benny a slender stick. “Wait, are you talking about Ranalae?”

  Radamar nodded. “Yes. She was my cousin.”

  A snapping twig drew Benny's attention toward the forest. Mordegan's blond head bobbed between leafy branches as Elsin Sylleth's battle dragon stalked the twisted boles. Benny slid several small chunks of alligator onto her stick and held it over the flames to sear. As it cooked, she tilted her ears toward the forest, but all she heard was muffled mumb
ling. “What are they talking about over there?”

  Iefyr and Radamar both angled their ears toward where Mordegan stood with Juna, Elsin, Tessen, and Kembriana.

  “I don't know,” Radamar said. His ears relaxed and he rotated his skewer. “I overheard something about Uldru earlier. Did you know Juna and Tessen have met before? Tessen helped the Jade Uldru learn to read after they were freed.” His eyes met Iefyr's again. “You're a half-elf, aren't you? I think you favor elf a little more than orc. Benny, if this is the one you told me about a couple years ago, I can see why you–”

  “That's enough,” Benny mumbled as heat spread through her cheeks and ears. Colorful spots drifted through her vision from staring too hard at the fire. She had once confided in Radamar about her crush on a half-orc mercenary, but she had never expected the two of them to actually meet.

  “–were infatuated with him,” Radamar finished with a wry grin.

  The heat in Benny's cheeks grew to an inferno as Iefyr's coloring reddened to match. She held her hand over her mouth and muttered, “Damn it, Radamar.”

  “I'm not jealous,” Radamar said, his dark eyes aglow. “I don't think I can be anymore. I've seen how you've been looking at him over the past two days. If you want to pursue him, you have my blessing.”

  Confounded, Iefyr dropped his meat into the fire. The fat sputtered and crackled as the flesh crisped to black. Iefyr's brown face was now as red as the deepest embers of his campfire. “Um...”

  “Why don't all three of you just pursue each other? These feelings spin round and round the fire, and even through Radamar, who is surprised he can feel them at all. I'm not sure what that's about, but I have my suspicions.” Tessen stepped out of the forest, his golden dragon slightly ahead of him. His hand rested on his hip as he looked down at the fire.

  Benny looked up at him with interest. It was still hard to recognize this tall and robust young man as the chubby and unintentionally loud child she used to watch after. A single, horizontal scar on his cheek added to his comeliness rather than detracting from it. He had been quiet and withdrawn since appearing at their previous campsite, but Benny assumed it was because he knew his gift unnerved people.

 

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