“What tools do you use for butchering?” Nick asked.
“Knives,” Abram responded, “mostly cleavers. But I know what you're hinting at. I've tried fighting with knives already. It didn't go well.”
“Did they feel the same?”
Abram's eyebrows pinched together. “What do you mean?”
“Were they balanced the same?” Nick prompted. “Did the battle knives have the same weight to them?”
“Well, no,” Abram answered. “They were lighter. Zellíd said they're made from allestone. Mine are made out of steel. But allestone is better for fighting. It doesn't break and its weight helps with reaction time. Heavier blades would slow a fighter down.”
“Unless a fighter was accustomed to using heavier blades,” Nick corrected him. “They're balanced differently so it changes the way you hold them and move with them.”
“They…” Abram said, and then trailed off as he stared at Nick. After a minute, he shook his head and laughed. “You're right. I never thought about it that way, but you're right. The lighter knives feel wrong. I even dropped one yesterday because I forgot it was in my hand. I cut a hole in my favorite pair of shoes.”
“Try sparring with the knives from your butcher set tomorrow. If they work, you'll need to have another set made for battle.”
“I'll do that,” Abram decided. “Hopefully it will work.”
Nick had no doubt it would. As the man walked away, Nick's hope flourished again. For the first time since he had set out on this mission, he felt as if he had made a difference. He scanned the makeshift battlefield. More than half the men and women of the village remained standing. They continued charging at each other with the stamina given to them by the potions Nick had mixed in the morning and by their will to survive. The sun set behind them, casting long shadows over the unconscious bodies at their feet. Nick moved his hand through the air, encompassing the length of the field as he recited the spell to revive those lost to slumber.
The dead rose, shaking off their confusion, and those still fighting ceased their attacks. The invocation signaled the end of the battle. Nick watched Miles revive those on his end of the field and then nodded at the Elder. Miles returned the nod, the smile on his face acknowledgment of a day well done.
Nick blended into the crowd as they made their way back to the confines of the village. After doling out a few encouraging words to those who took notice of him, he threaded down an empty alleyway toward the guest cottage, intent on finding quiet by his fireplace. A bowl of reheated stew for dinner would serve him well, as would a good night's sleep. And as he did each night since he had arrived here, he would take a sleeping potion and allow it to clear his mind of all thoughts save for one. He would dream of Meaghan and wonder if she was finding the same success in her mission as he had found so far in his.
CHAPTER NINE
NICK FELT groggy. The ocean of his slumber rocked him, the darkness of it muffling him in a cocoon of warmth. He could hear the wind whistling past the chimney, its howl carrying his name in a timbre mimicking a familiar voice. Yet everything sounded muffled, as distant to him as last year was to yesterday. He knew the outside world wanted him, but he ignored it for the dream playing in his mind. It projected as a slow motion movie he could rewind and pause whenever a scene made him smile. White letters splashed in front of his eyes in the same way movies from the early twentieth century displayed their titles on his small television screen on Earth. Holly Jolly Bowling Party it read.
He had not remembered the day so clearly when he was awake, but every detail revived while he slept. Soon after he had arrived on Earth, the holidays brought what seemed to be an endless pile of invitations. Some were elaborate, gilded and painted on fine linen paper. Others were simple, sent through the computer by a digital mail system he did not fully comprehend. Although Meaghan had attended several of her friends' parties—from big extravaganzas with large crowds to smaller parties with dinner and dancing—she wanted her celebration be informal. She had invited a few close friends and her parents, and when she had learned that Nick did not know how to bowl, she insisted they have the party at the local bowling alley. It had been the first and only time he had bowled and he had no talent for it. Her laughter echoed around him while he threw gutter ball after gutter ball, but despite his failure at the sport, he loved that day and he wanted to keep reliving it.
"Damnit, lad. If I didn't know any better I'd say you drank that tea we're giving Meaghan to make her sleep at night."
Meaghan. Her name coasted over the air, slicing through Nick's resistance to reality and he bolted upright in bed, adrenaline sweeping the cobwebs from his mind in a single breath. It had not been the wind calling him. It had been Cal. Worry built within Nick and he turned toward the fire. The rescue party should be in Zeiihbu by now. They were too far away for Cal to reach him using his power.
“Are you awake yet? I could use your help in keeping this connection.”
Cal's voice grew faint as the fire sputtered. It had nearly gone out in the hours since Nick had fallen asleep. He dove from bed, scrambling to his knees in front of the fireplace, and threw a log onto the last orange tongues, flaring the flames.
“That's better,” Cal muttered. His voice grew stronger, and though he sounded irritated, a hint of teasing set Nick at ease. “I thought I was going to have to start yelling soon. You sleep better than a winged tuft-rat.”
Nick chuckled and tried to rub the remains of slumber from his eyes. At this point, the tuft-rat's eight-month hibernation did not seem like such a bad idea.
“You're not as hard to wake up as Meaghan, though,” Cal continued. “I don't think a volcano eruption could wake her. I'm pretty sure it's a side effect of the tea, but we can't be certain since none of us have used the plant before.”
“Why are you giving her tea?” Nick asked. “Is she not sleeping again?”
“Again?”
“She usually doesn't sleep when she's worried about something.”
Cal grunted. “Yeah, that would make sense. There's a lot to worry about right now. Not the least of which is Caide.” He paused. Silence filled the air, and then a minute later, he spoke again. “I've just been reminded why I contacted you. We're short a Healer and we're trying to make do, but none of us are proficient.”
Nick's fear returned, sitting like a rotten apple in his stomach. He waited for Cal to continue, but when he did not, Nick ventured the question that scared him most. “Is Meaghan hurt?”
“No,” Cal answered and chuckled. “No one else is either. We're bored. We thought it might help us pass the time if we learned some basic cures in case someone actually did get hurt.”
Nick raised an eyebrow at the fire. “You woke me in the middle of the night because you're bored? Is it really that slow in Zeiihbu?”
“We haven't made it to Zeiihbu yet,” Cal told him. “Meaghan, Talis, and I are standing guard together. We were talking about the tea, debating if Artair got the mix right and so we thought…” he paused again. Silence ensued and Nick rubbed his fingers along one eyebrow as he tried to sort out Cal's words. Was he still dreaming?
Cal sighed. “Meaghan says I should apologize to you for waking you up. And she wants me to clarify that this was my idea. She didn't want to bother you.”
“I'd rather be bothered,” Nick responded. He dropped his hand. “I just wish I knew what you're talking about. Why can't I hear her?”
“For the same reason she and Talis can't hear you. I'm talking out loud so they can hear my end of the conversation, but with my power that's not necessary. I can speak through the flames without actually saying anything. And—”
“Only you can hear what the flames are transmitting,” Nick guessed.
“Flames and wind,” Cal corrected. “Talis is aiding our conversation. We've been stuck at our campground for nearly four days, thanks to a large storm sitting over our heads. Fortunately, Eudor knew a spell to drape an invisible canopy over our campground. We've been
dry, but we can't move until the storm passes.”
“You've never been afraid of traveling in the rain before,” Nick pointed out. “Why now?”
“We're being tracked by razor beasts,” Cal answered. “We were going to travel in the rain, but after we broke down camp the first day, we saw a few of them skulking around. The rain gives them too much of an advantage. They seem to hear and see in it much better than we can, so we thought it would be better to stay put for now.”
“So they can find you more easily?” Nick asked. Easing off his knees, he crossed his legs in front of him. “Wouldn't it make more sense to keep moving to avoid them?”
“Faillen doesn't think so. He knows these creatures. And since I've never seen them before, I'm deferring to his judgment.”
Nick knotted his hands beneath his chin and hoped Faillen was right. “So you need to know simple cures for injuries,” he said. “And you need to know about the tea. Is that all?”
“Pretty much,” Cal said.
“That's easy enough. As far as the tea is concerned, I can guarantee Artair's not mixing it right if you're having trouble waking Meaghan up. She needs a lower dose, especially while you're in dangerous situations. That will ensure adrenaline can chase it from her system in time to react.”
“You weren't exactly easy to wake,” Cal pointed out. “I'm assuming you took something, as well.”
“I did,” Nick answered, “but I took a normal dose and I'm in a secure village this week. Despite the fact Meaghan is being protected by six of the best Guardians in Ærenden, she's not safe enough to be sleeping so soundly.”
“No, she's not,” Cal agreed. “And since you said six Guardians, shall I assume I don't have to tell you who we have with us?”
“My mother told me already. Why didn't you bring a Healer?”
“There are only two I trust,” Cal told him. “Since one of them is pregnant with my child and the other is your mother, we decided to do without. Your mother wanted to go, but having two Elders on this mission didn't seem wise.”
“I suppose not,” Nick said. “Though I wish that wasn't the case. What is Artair using for tea?”
“Leaves from some plant he found. I don't know what it is, but the leaves were purple with blue streaks through them.”
“Clover bush,” Nick muttered. “That figures. It's the last thing I'd choose. I don't like using it because its strength varies when it's ripe, which is when it has blue streaks. How much does he brew at a time?”
“Five leaves per cup,” Cal answered.
Nick cursed. “You're lucky you can wake her at all. That's the dose for the unripe plant and it's enough to knock someone your size out for a good twelve hours. If Meaghan's drinking a full cup, she has to be groggy all day.”
“She only drank a full cup the first night. Since then she's refused to drink more than half. She says it makes her feel hung over, whatever that means.”
“I know what it means,” Nick responded with a chuckle. “And it should at that strength. From now on, tell Artair to use two leaves. They may be small, but they're potent. As far as the other cures you need, it would help to know where you are. Plants vary in different parts of Ærenden.”
“I figured that out,” Cal said. “I never had to learn anything about plants when I was here last time. Everything I've learned since doesn't seem to apply. I tried finding an ice bush without success. Even jicab appears to be rare, though we have plenty of that already.”
“So you're in the north,” Nick said, and then continued without waiting for confirmation. “You're by Gormand's Gorge. You have to be. It's the only place in the kingdom where ice bush can't grow. Why are you there?”
“It's complicated,” Cal said. “We have good reason.”
“It's dangerous.” Nick stood. Tucking his hands behind his back, he paced. “And it's not the best way to cross into Zeiihbu. Whose idea was it?”
“Meaghan's,” Cal answered. “And as I said, it's complicated, but the Gorge is necessary. I'll explain later. We don't have time to—”
“Why would she want to go there?” Nick asked. “It doesn't make any sense. She shouldn't even know about it. You should have—”
“Nick,” Cal interrupted, his voice firm. “It's taking a lot of effort for Talis and me to keep this connection to your fire. Our storm gives us some wind, but Talis has to overextend his power to make the wind travel across the kingdom.”
Nick whirled on the fire, but bit back the words set to launch from his lips when his eyes met flames instead of the man he wanted to fight. Cal was not here. He was hundreds of miles away trying his best to protect Meaghan in spite of her plan. Talis could only push his power this hard for so long. They were running out of time and they needed Nick's help. He returned to his seat in front of the fire.
“There isn't anything in that area with the same cooling properties as an ice bush,” he said. “But if you dig into the ground about a foot, you'll find something the local people call terravein. It has the consistency of clay, but it's the color of blood. You can use it on most injuries as a salve, provided the injury isn't life threatening.”
“And for more severe injuries?” Cal asked.
“You need to find a prickle poison bush,” Nick told him. “It has orange and yellow spotted leaves. When you wet it and apply it to a wound, it hardens into a barrier. It's good for preventing someone from bleeding to death, but be careful of the plant's stem. It's covered in living barbs that latch onto your skin. You have to soak them in hot pepper vinegar to get them to release and I'm guessing you didn't bring any of that with you.”
“It wasn't on my packing list,” Cal joked. “Shall I assume by the plant's name that the barbs are also poisonous?”
“No,” Nick answered. “The leaves are. It's a cure with a curse. The leaves will stop the bleeding, but they'll also leach poison into your patient's blood stream. If you're forced to use them, get to a Healer immediately. The poison will kill someone within a few hours. Even after the Healer gives them an anti-poison potion, they'll be ill for about a week, so use the leaves sparingly.”
“Got it,” Cal remarked. His voice seemed faint again and Nick knew he would be gone soon. “Anything else I should know?”
“One more thing, but it isn't about medicine,” Nick responded. “I've heard rumors about the area you're in. They may not be true, but just in case, you should be prepared.”
“This area's full of rumors,” Cal responded, his words no more than a whisper. “But I suspect many of them are based in truth, even if the truth is seeded in a fictional story. It never hurts to—”
When a log popped in the fireplace, but no other noises escaped the flames, Nick knew the connection had been broken. He swallowed hard against the panic rising in his throat and tried not to think about the dangers the rescue party faced. He had never heard of a razor beast before, but if it came from Zeiihbu, it concerned him. The lands to the north harbored many creatures both foreign and unfriendly. He chased the image the beast's name painted from his mind and did the same with the realization that Meaghan was probably exhausted and charging willingly into a bad situation. And for what?
He had a feeling he would not understand even if she could tell him. Since he had met her, he had grown accustomed to her spontaneous plans. Accustomed, but not comfortable, and he felt less comfortable now that he could not protect her. He sighed and pressed his hands into his eyes as he tried to remember where he had heard the rumor about Gormand's Gorge. He remembered the tale clearly, but who had told it to him?
He dropped his hands. It didn't matter. It was no more than a rumor, a tale passed by word of mouth for entertainment. It carried no more truth than a children's bedtime story.
Like the story of the timekeeper, he realized. He had heard that story when he was young and it had turned out to be true. Could this one be too?
He stared into the fire, focusing on the dancing light as a memory formed in his mind. He could hear the words of the G
ormand's Gorge tale clearly. They resonated through his mind from a familiar voice he had known his entire life. It was his mother's voice. He could see her sitting on the edge of his bed, her beautiful red hair bouncing around her shoulders, her lips parted in a grin as she spoke the words she knew would bring fright and pleasure to him. He could see her as clearly as he had seen Miles this afternoon. Excitement warmed her face, painting her cheeks rose red. Happiness brightened her eyes, making them sparkle in the low light of a lamp. She laughed, carefree and relaxed. And he knew in that moment the woman could not be his mother. It was her twin. Though the two of them looked the same, his mother's face had always held a seriousness that remained absent from this memory. Aunt Vivian had told him the story.
He closed his eyes. She had done it to him again. This time, instead of burying truths inside riddles and predictions within plain speak, she had hidden them in a bedtime story about a magic swallowing gorge. Knowing her, she believed he would remember it when it became important.
He had. The story had sought him out from childhood, reminding him of its necessity on the day he needed it.
But it had come a moment too late.
CHAPTER TEN
“MEAGHAN, GET some tea, please.”
The calm in Cal's voice contradicted the concern on his face. Meaghan jumped to his command. She grabbed the mug at her feet and claimed the teapot from the fire. One minute the younger Guardian had been fine. The wind coursed through the sky at a steady pace, controlled by his power. The next minute, he had collapsed to the ground. Meaghan swallowed her panic and focused on pouring the jicab tea. The dark beverage had been meant for her, for the fatigue Cal worried would overwhelm her. She had never expected they would need it for a more serious purpose. Her hand shook and she gripped the mug tighter, afraid she would drop it.
Aerenden: The Zeiihbu Master (Ærenden) Page 9