“Why?”
“Because we need their help. Even some of the high lords think it’s a good idea.” Welb showed his teeth, but Jez spoke up before he could respond. “This is why you came here. Can you help?”
Welb considered for a second. “Perhaps. It has been a long time since I encountered any others, and we purposely did not keep in contact. Still, my kind does not change often. If they have the same habits they possessed when last I met them, I should be able to reach them.”
Jez turned to Villia. “What about you?”
The king’s advisor hesitated. “From time to time, afur have come to the king’s court. I revealed myself to some, but to most, I remained a simple advisor.”
Jez gave her a level stare. “Don’t give me that. You’re avoiding the question. I know you well enough to know that you would’ve kept track of them, in case you needed them, regardless of whether or not they knew what you were. Well, we need them now.”
Villia stiffened and Welb growled. “Do not try to convince her. Fallen or not, the Veilspeakers only act when they can do so unseen. She will not help you, not even if the entire world is at stake. I will aid you. By nightfall, I will have two dozen birds carrying messages to those I know. They should start arriving soon.” He glared at Villia. “Have no fear that I will abandon you just to keep a secret.”
Villia glared at the wolf man. “Some of us do not act on every base instinct we have.” She turned back to Jez. “I will help. I crafted a working long ago to call those of my kind I have encountered. It may take some time, though. All of us have spent millennia hiding, and such habits die hard.”
“Do whatever you can,” Jez said.
Villia inclined her head and closed her eyes. Power prickled against Jez’s skin as the afur sent out a call. Almost immediately, Villia’s eyes snapped open.
“They are here.”
“What?” Jez asked. “Who?”
“Afur. Three of them. They are already here.” She pointed across the field. Jez could just make out the tents of the army camp nearby, now under the command of Queen Istar. “I cannot tell who they are, but I sense them there.”
CHAPTER 8
Stares of the soldiers accompanied them as they entered the camp. Welb had stayed behind, but Jez and his friends were well known enough among the soldiers to draw attention. A few, those who had been part of the campaign against Sharim six months before, saluted Jez, and a handful bowed deeply. Jez held his head high as he walked past them. Queen Istar had integrated the army of Korand with her own when she had arrived, thus taking military command. Jez had been happy to give her the responsibility, but they were still his soldiers, loyal to him above all others.
To Jez’s surprise, Villia didn’t lead them to the training ground or to the officer’s tents, or anywhere else where he would’ve expected to find a rogue Shadeslayer. Instead, they went to the surgeon’s tents. Jez glanced at the former Veilspeaker.
“I didn’t think afur could be hurt.”
“Oh, we can be hurt. It is just that there is nothing human medicine can do to help us.”
“Then, why are they there?”
“Perhaps we should go in and check.”
Jez nodded and pulled open the flap. They stepped into a tent that was mostly empty. It had a clean scent that Jez would have expected more from a sick house in a large city than a tent in an army camp. One man was having his arm wrapped by a healer wearing an orange sash, an indication that she was a mage, though not one that was Academy trained. A man and a woman, similarly garbed, were tending to a trio of unconscious soldiers, no doubt the last remnants of the flu.
“This is not what I would expect from afur.” Jez spoke softly. “Are you sure?”
“As sure as I can be,” Villia said. “It was not a tracking working.”
“We will be with you shortly,” the woman wrapping the arm said.
She glanced over her shoulder. She looked young to be using her abilities on the sick unsupervised, no more than twenty, but her eyes shimmered orange for a second, and Jez’s breath caught in his throat. It wasn’t the injured that were the afur. It was the healers.
“Lifebringers?” Jez asked.
“So it would seem,” Villia said. “The flu did die off rather quickly, even for an army tended by mages. This would certainly explain it.”
The soldier having his arm wrapped stood up, and after receiving a few terse instructions, he walked out of the tent, bowing to Jez as he passed.
“We would have come to you once our duties were seen to,” the healer said. “We heard the call. I am Raphlia.”
Jez gaped for a second before clearing his throat. “The other healers?”
“Shanel and Illeon.”
“The triune.” Villia’s voice was almost a whisper. “I did not know who you were when I met you before.”
“The triune?” Osmund asked. “Them? I never knew their names.”
“Please,” Raphlia said, “we are not alone.”
Villia waved a hand. “We cannot be overheard. Are you truly the triune?”
Raphlia’s shoulders slumped, and she closed her eyes. “Yes.”
“For those of us that haven’t made an extensive study of theology,” Jez said, “who are the triune?”
“Lifebringers,” Osmund said. “Powerful ones.”
“More than that,” Villia said. “They were among the most powerful healers of the pharim. Only Aphlel himself surpassed their skill.”
“Why were you cast out?” Osmund asked. “None of the manuscripts say.”
“There was a plague,” Shanel said as she came up from behind them. “A terrible plague. One in six people in the entire world were killed, and it showed no sign of abating. We could not let it go on, so we healed it.”
“And you were banished for that?” Jez asked.
“We were banished,” Illeon said, “because the plague was brought on by a mortal explorer who traveled to a place he had no business going. There, he caught a disease he had no defense from. He was strong. He fought it off just long enough to make it home and infect his friends and family. It spread from there.”
“Ah,” Jez said. “Mortal choice?”
The three healers nodded in unison. That rule above all else bound every pharim. If a mortal chose to do something, they could not interfere, not unless that choice interfered with the pharim themselves. If the plague had been natural and the human had come upon it through his own choices, not even the Lifebringers would’ve been able to stop it, not unless they were willing to violate their own laws. Still a sixth of humanity. Jez shivered at the thought.
“You kept on healing,” Jez said, motioning to the empty sick tent.
“Where we could,” Raphlia said.
“We try to keep a low profile,” Shanel said. “But when things like this flu happen, we are hard pressed not to act.”
“You know what we’re doing, don’t you?”
Raphlia nodded. “A powerful mage is gathering an army of demons. He has already destroyed the Carceri Academy, and due to your bond to Korand, Baron, you may be the only one with power enough to stop him.” Jez gaped at Raphlia who shrugged. “We are not completely ignorant of the world.”
Jez nodded. “Will you help us?”
“How many will be injured in this fight? How many will die if we do not lend our aid? This is exactly the reason we disobeyed, and we have not changed so much that we would do otherwise.”
“Good,” Jez said. “I want you to try to heal Aphlel.”
The three former pharim stiffened and exchanged glances. The color drained from Raphlia’s face, and she and her companions were struck silent. It was Illeon who finally spoke.
“Lord Aphlel has been hurt?”
“Yes,” Jez said.
“Impossible,” Raphlia said. “He is the lord of healing. He cannot be hurt.”
“That’s what we thought,” Jez said. “He’s lying unconscious in my manor right now. We’re not sure what happe
ned, but nothing we tried has been able to wake him.”
“No,” Raphlia said. “Even when we first banished the demons from this world, they could not hurt him. You must be wrong.”
Illeon rested a hand on Raphlia’s shoulder. “If what he says is true, and we help Lord Aphlel...”
Raphlia pulled away from him. With a visible effort, she calmed down and shook her head. “We cannot go back.”
“If he forgives us...”
“He has had thousands of years to forgive us. Though we have never ceased to be healers, he never gave us one ounce of mercy. Should we do any different? I do not know what force could do this to him, but I say let him be a victim to it.”
“Do you not feel it, Raphlia?” Shanel’s voice sounded like a breeze. “This could be the end. The Keep of the Hosts itself may fall before all is done.”
“Then, let it fall. We owe the pharim nothing.”
Shanel shook her head. “That is not what I meant. For ages, we have been healers. We have turned away no one. Will we now, at the twilight of the world, abandon that?”
Raphlia glared at her. “You want to help him.”
“I am a healer. I do not leave one injured where I can heal them.” She turned to Jez. “I will help even if the others will not.”
“Oh, stop being so dramatic, Shanel,” Illeon said. “Of course I will go.”
Shanel nodded and turned to Raphlia. “What do you say? If Aphlel’s own power has not been enough to restore him, then this will not be easy. It has been ages since the triune formed a contingent. Shall we show the high lords of the pharim what true healers can do?”
Raphlia’s eyes shed a dull orange glow. She clenched her jaw and nodded.
“Very well.”
CHAPTER 9
No sooner had they stepped into the garden than the three afur had swords at their necks. Manakel had moved too fast to be seen, coming out of the overgrown trees like a ghost. In his right hand, he held a flaming blade. Shanel and Illeon had been walking next to each other, and now, the edge of Manakel’s blade touched Illeon’s neck while its point rested on Shanel’s. His left hand held a curved blade that singed Raphlia’s neck. He could kill all three with a flick of his wrists, and Jez found himself feeling grateful that Villia stayed in the army camp with the king rather than come and be a fourth afur.
“What are they doing here?”
Jez stood frozen, not wanting to provoke the lord of the Shadeslayers to action.
“Calm down. I told you I was going to ask for their help.”
His swords burned brighter. “You did not say you would bring them to us. They are not welcome here.”
“Forgive the intrusion, Lord Manakel.” Illeon’s body remained inhumanly still as he spoke. “We have accepted the punishment for our transgressions and would not normally presume to come into your presence, but the mage Jezreel has informed us of Lord Aphlel’s fall. We might be able to help.”
Manakel’s swords blazed until they shone so brightly Jez had to look away, but before anyone could say anything, a shadow passed over them. Jez looked up to see Sariel descending slowly, his six wings spread wide. He landed next to his counterpart and raised a hand.
“Calm yourself, Manakel. Use your eyes, and remember. If there are more gifted healers among the pharim that these three, it is only because their power was curtailed when they were cast out. Even so, I am not sure anyone save Aphlel himself could match them.”
“And do you think they would pass up a chance to repay us for their exile?”
Sariel chuckled. “They were neither pharim of war nor pharim of vengeance. It is not in their nature to strike out.”
“If they followed their nature, they would never have been exiled.”
“You know why we were exiled, Manakel,” Raphlia said. Illeon paled at the omission of a title, but Raphlia didn’t give him a chance to speak. “We would never hurt anyone, much less one who is injured.”
Manakel’s glare could’ve burned holes through stone, and Jez half expected the glass door behind him to melt. The plants around the pharim sizzled, filling the air with an acrid smell. “You do not really expect me to take the word of a traitor, do you?”
“Says the coward.”
“What?”
A gust of wind blew Jez and his companions off their feet. It ripped leaves off branches, and a few of the sharper ones sliced into Jez’s skin. Even the afur stumbled, though Manakel’s blades never strayed more than a few inches from the necks of his victims. Birds screeched as they were torn from their perch. Only the pharim high lords were unaffected. Raphlia stood up straight, turning her head so she could look Manakel in the eye. The blade burned her skin as she moved, but she ignored it.
“You fled the world. You barred those who serve you from entering the mortal realm. If you had not done so, the rest of the pharim would be here, helping you. Because you ran, the world is now vulnerable.”
“How dare you!”
“She does have a point,” Sariel said. “Lower your weapon.”
“You have no authority over me, Sariel.”
“We are not on the attack now, Manakel.” The earth trembled at Sariel’s voice. “You say they have come to strike. In that case, this is a matter of defense, and that is under my power.”
For a second, Jez thought the two would come to blows. The thought of the lords of protection and destruction doing battle with one another filled Jez with an almost primal terror, but the flames around Manakel’s blades dimmed. Then, his swords vanished. He backed up, though his flaming eyes never left Raphlia.
“Please, go ahead,” Sariel said as he motioned toward the interior of the garden. “Do whatever you can. He lies over there.”
Raphlia nodded. She turned, first to Illeon, and then to Shanel. The three didn’t speak, but a few seconds later, a vast swell of power rose in Raphlia. She glided across the garden. The trees and underbrush moved out of her way of their own accord, though they writhed and tried to grasp Jez and his friends as they followed.
Before long, they had reached the stone slab. Vines had grown around Aphlel so only his face was showing, and the air was filled with the scent of rosemary. Above them, the canopy of branches had grown so thick as to nearly block out the sun.
Raphlia stepped into the stream and approached her former master. An aura of orange light sprung to life around her. She held her hands over Aphlel’s face, and the light seemed to bleed from her until his face shone. The vines around him squirmed, revealing orange light glowing beneath them. The pharim lord’s chest rose and fell in a semblance of breathing, and Jez found himself holding his breath, but after a few seconds, the glowing subsided. When it was gone, Aphlel seemed to have grown even paler. If he had been still before, now, he looked to be made of stone.
Raphlia sighed. “I am sorry. There is nothing I can do. The magic affecting him is too strong.”
“Magic?” Jez asked. “You mean this is some working?”
“Of course. Do you think an ordinary attack could do this to Aphlel?”
“No, but...” Jez looked around to the others. They all seemed just as stunned as he was. Finally, he turned back to Raphlia. “What kind of working?”
“It is difficult to say. It is not so much resting on him as it is dragging his consciousness down. More power directed at the healing will not help because his injuries are not truly that severe. Rather, it is this magic doing constant and persistent harm that his own power is constantly working to counter. Unless we deal with it, healing can do nothing.”
“Then, it is mental magic.” Jez jumped as the indigo-robed Leziel appeared out of nowhere alongside Daziel, who wore a much lighter violet robe. The shadows were darker around them, and Leziel floated a few inches above the stream as he moved closer to Aphlel. “I detected nothing the last time I checked, but perhaps knowing what to look for...”
He placed his hand on Aphlel’s forehead. Deep purple light surrounded them for a second before Leziel shook his h
ead. “If there is a working of mental magic, I cannot detect it.” He looked up. “Daziel?”
There was a flash of violet before Daziel shook his head. “I sense no illusion hiding any working.”
“So, they failed,” Manakel said, “as I expected.”
“But they did not attempt to injure him,” Sariel pointed out.
“We would never do such a thing,” Illeon said. He eyed his companions before stepping forward. “In fact, if you would have us, we would return to your service.”
CHAPTER 10
“What?” Raphlia shrieked so loudly Jez thought his ears would bleed. Even the plants seemed to shy away from her. She stormed to Illeon, kicking up a splash of water as she exited the stream and gripped his shoulder, forcibly spinning him until he faced her. “What is the meaning of this? We never wanted to be restored.”
“Do not fool yourself, old friend.” His voice was almost reverent. “That is always what we wanted. That is why we kept on healing even after we were cast out. It is what all afur want, whether they admit it to themselves or not.”
“You do not speak for us.” Shanel’s voice was barely above a whisper. “For too long, we have wandered the earth, doing our work. What reason do we have to want to go back?”
“Are you serious?” Illeon asked. “This is our chance to be restored to our true purpose. How can you turn away from that?”
“Our purpose is to heal,” Shanel said. “I do not have the same malice toward the high lords that Raphlia does, but I still do not wish this.”
“Malice?” Raphlia cried out. “For all their talk of us betraying them, they are the ones who fled the world when they were most needed. They are the traitors, not us. You call it malice. I say it is justified.”
Shanel waited several seconds before she spoke again. “Our purpose is to heal. We do not need the acceptance of the high lords to do that.”
“Go then,” Sariel said. “Do as you will.”
“But...” Illeon started but went silent as Sariel raised a hand.
“You violated the laws the Creator set to govern us, Illeon. It is not within our power to forgive that.” The afur’s shoulders slumped, but Sariel went on. “This is, however, a time of great change. Nothing like this has ever happened. We could find a place for one as gifted as you. I cannot promise you atonement, but I suspect much will be different by the time this is done.”
Lifebringer (Pharim War Book 6) Page 5