Nearly an hour passed as Lotari talked nonstop about Marya the Healer. Three summers ago, he’d broken his back leg and had been taken to her to have it set. Aside from Issah, she was the only human Wyndham would allow them to socialize with. During his recuperation, she taught him the healing arts. Plant lore came naturally as he’d grown up in the woods, but she showed him how to set broken bones, stitch cuts, and even how to deliver babies.
“Not that many humans will allow one of my kind to aid in delivery.” He stared ahead at the road, his voice deadpan. “They fear we might bring a curse on the infant. But I have aided the births of many animals and my clan mothers, as well. Quite exciting.” His tail swooshed as he smiled with a joyfulness she’d never seen from him.
Alyra piped up, “So when will we get to this healer’s house?” Her stomach growled, leg hurt- even with the support of the cane, and her feet were weary. Surprisingly, the burns on her arm no longer stung as much. “If it’s going to be awhile, can we stop for a quick rest and something to eat? I still might have a few of Lot’s grain cakes left. ”
“Something to eat?” Issah, had remained quiet the whole time Lotari talked. “That will be wonderful. But after the day we’ve had, I think we can do better than grain cakes. No offense my friend.”
“None taken.” Lotari grinned, as if he and Issah were in on some private joke.
“I could eat a whole baked hen.” Issah closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. “Do you smell potatoes with thyme?”
Lotari sniffed deeply. “With roasted lamb?”
Alyra took in a deep breath of nothing but damp earth and pine trees.
“Yes.” A wide smile spread across Issah’s face. “And music, my friends. I do love the melody of violins, you know.”
Alyra closed her eyes and listened but heard only crickets. The sun had set and the cobalt sky had a sprinkling of stars across its surface.
“Oh, I have my pipes!” Lotari’s hooves clattered as he began stepping and clapping to a tune that obviously wasn’t there. He broke into a canter and disappeared amongst the trees.
“All right, enough!” Alyra banged the cane against the rocks. “What kind of joke is this? If you don’t want to stop, say so. Just quit trying to make a fool of me.”
Issah stared at her with pity in his gaze. “Come on, let’s get something to eat. They’ve prepared a wonderful meal for us.” He extended his hand.
Standing firm, her feet planted slightly apart, she determined to have nothing to do with this madness. The moment she lowered her guard and started to believe Issah might be different from Lord Darnel, that he spoke the truth about trusting, then he plays mind games with her. And Lotari followed his game like a pet dog. Some friend.
Issah’s hand never lowered, nor did the concern leave his eyes. “Just because you don’t see, doesn’t make it not true.”
She turned away. Her fingers dug into the bark of the cane. Why were they teasing her like this?
“Alyra.” His tone grew stern. “You’ll have to trust me on this. I won’t leave you here.”
She glanced at his outstretched hand. Somewhere deep inside she heard a voice, You can do this. It’s not at all what you think. Just trust me, and you’ll see.
Sweat dripped down her forehead and neck, sapping all moisture from her mouth. She spun around, searching for Lord Darnel. “Master?”
Oh, she hoped not. Not here. Not now.
“Alyra, don’t be afraid. I’m the only one here.” His piercing gaze leveled at her. “Is he still your master?”
Her eyes burned. The names she’d been called, the words said about her came onto her like a colossal avalanche. Pain stabbed at her gut, and she desperately fought the torrent of tears threatening to explode.
“No! I hate him. I’ll not be controlled again!” She turned to face Issah straight on. “I’m not damaged, or stupid. I’m not! And I’m not a freak!”
“Hush, daughter.” He stepped closer and reached to touch her shoulder. She jerked away. “I know exactly who you are. Alyra, child of Alburnium. Daughter to Stephen of Belluvita. Born to those of the light. The Illuminate.”
Her quaking stopped and she gaped, wondering at his words.
“I do not wish to control, but to guide. I desire a true friendship. You’ll need my help to reach Aloblase. You have nothing to fear, dear one.” He stepped closer again, hand still extended. “Will you turn away from what was and walk with me now?”
Haltingly, she stretched her fingers toward his, only to quickly draw back. She wanted to believe she was doing fine on her own, but in reality, if not for all the people who’d helped her, who’d ended up suffering because of her, she wouldn’t have survived this far.
“Follow me.” His fingers beckoned her. “If you’ll take my hand, child, so much will become clear to you.”
The way he spoke caused stirring warmth in her heart, as if she’d been offered a tantalizing challenge. Trembling, she warily laid her hand in his.
A bright light burst about them, and all her senses came alive. Music filled the night air. The most beautiful beings she’d ever seen appeared, some playing flutes and stringed instruments, while others sang along. At first their song sounded like a waterfall but soon the words became recognizable and somewhat familiar. They were dressed in bright, festive clothing, both male and female. Every fear, every worry she’d had only moments before dissipated.
In the center of the gathering sat linen-covered tables heaped with roasted meat, fruits, and glossy loaves of bread.
Lotari stood with a large chicken leg sticking from his mouth.
Laughter and talk rang in her ears. She clutched Issah’s hand tighter, afraid if she released him the wonderful vision would disappear.
His free arm circled her shoulder, pulling her close as he whispered in her ear, “Come, my precious child. Join me for a banquet?”
She shook her head, unable to move. “Issah, this is too much. What kind of trick have you conjured? Even Mast—, I mean, Darnel couldn’t pull this off.”
“Not a conjured trick, Alyra. The Logorians love to host fine festivities. I’m so pleased to have you heading back home. You’ve been sorely missed, dear one. In all the troubles you’ve endured, I simply wished to treat you to this little celebration. A mere shadow of the one that will greet you when you finally reach Aloblase.” He turned her so they faced each other. He cupped her chin in his hands. “Please allow me share a bit of extravagance with you just for this one night.”
Alyra blinked back tears. “Everything looks so… good. So beautiful. Thank you, Issah.”
Still clutching her hand, he led her to one of the tables. “What are you hungry for?” He reached for the roasted bird. She hadn’t eaten fresh meat since she’d left Marcel’s camp. Was wanting a taste of everything too much?
One of the beautiful beings offered her a plate heaped with foods cooked to perfection. Crisp, steamy vegetables and soft, warm bread. She relished each tantalizing bite.
“Issah, who are the Logorians?”
“Many serve as King Shaydon’s warriors. Some are instructors and messengers of a special order.”
“Lotari said the Logorians made my back pack. I can’t believe all it holds and nothing ever gets wet.”
One of the servers smiled at her with a wink. “We are also astonishing craftsmen. I’m quite gifted with a needle and thread, among my many other useful talents.” He rested his hand on the long hilt of his sword. “If I say so myself.”
Issah laughed. “They are not well gifted with modesty, I might add.”
When she could eat no more, one of the female Logorians came and led her away. A gold band inlaid with red and green jewels circled delicately around her flowing yellow hair.
“I am Gwynedd.” She headed deeper into the trees. Small lights flickered within the leaves, illuminating the way. On closer inspection, Alyra realized the balls of light were actually tiny fairies. Amazing!
They came to a small pool fed b
y a hot spring. Candles burned along the rocky crevices. Misty steam swirled along the surface like a natural bathtub.
“We thought you might enjoy a warm bath.” Gwynedd pointed to another woman. This one had wavy red hair and sat upon a mossy stone, sewing a bright yellow cloth. “Meghan has been working on new outfits for you. Since this one is practically ruined with stains and scorch marks.”
The redheaded woman lifted the shirt, and Alyra marveled at the intricate ivy she’d embroidered around the neckline. “What do you think, dear?”
Alyra gasped with pleasure. “So beautiful. Thank you.” Carefully, she touched the sleeve finding the fabric soft like silky cotton, yet thick enough to endure traveling. She couldn’t remember ever being able to wear something so bright and pretty.
They left her to bathe. Alyra sat on the edge of the natural basin and unwrapped the bandage. The blistered burns were now reduced to pink splotches. On her leg, the gash was simply a long cut, no longer bleeding or open. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized that even Darnel never did anything this amazing. Matter-of-fact, most of Darnel’s feats were only tricks, usually meant to harm, not help. But Issah had really made the blisters go away and her skin to fuse back together. If only he’d make the emblem on her shoulder disappear as well.
After the bath as Gwynedd braided her hair, Alyra looked at her. “You know, I used to dream of people like you, when I lived in Racah. I’d hear singing, like tonight.”
“Perhaps Alyra,” replied the red-headed Meghan, “it’s a memory and not merely a dream. For in Aloblase many of our people dwell near the King. Do you remember anything else?”
Alyra thought hard. The lavender scented soap she’d bathed with gave her a vision of a flowered meadow on a warm spring day. “I have memories of running with a group of children.”
Then she saw herself sitting in a woodland clearing. A woman with red hair sat on a log, reading from an open book. The children recited what she said, word for word. “I remember someone who looked like you teaching us poetry!”
Meghan clapped. “Wonderful. We heard the Dark One had taken most of your memories. I knew they’d return. I just knew.”
Gwynedd added, “We asked to come along, hoping if you saw us again, you’d begin to remember some of what he’d stolen.”
“So you taught me when I was small?” Alyra turned to the golden haired Logorian and remembered her as well now. “Do you know what happened to me? How I ended up in Racah?”
Gwynedd shook her head. “I’m sure all will come back to you in due time.”
They soon rejoined the main group where the music had turned lively. Lotari, looking like he’d had a good brush down, danced with arms outstretched as his hooves pounded the ground in rhythm to the drumbeat. He wore a circle of oak leaves around his head and a necklace of daisies.
He stopped when he noticed her and gave with a hearty laugh. “You do clean up well, don’t you?”
She looked him over with a smirk. “Is that the new fashion in crowns, your furriness?”
“Funny, very funny.” He bowed in a most gentlemanly manner. “Do me the honor?”
Alyra took his hand and they swung around the brightly lit clearing. Her leg hardly ached at all now. Laughter rang out at the sight of her trying to keep up with the four-legged centaur that kept bumping into other dancers. Others tried to join in but had to keep dodging out of the way of his hindquarters. His tail whipped about, smacking people who got too close. Yet nobody seemed to get upset at the beast, but rather laughed louder until he was purposefully bumping everyone.
Alyra finally managed to break away and took a seat at one of the tables. The meats and vegetables had been replaced with desserts and fruit.
Issah sat beside her, deep chuckles shaking his broad shoulders as Lotari found two new partners. Despite the enjoyment of this strange gathering, Alyra couldn’t help but wonder about the villagers. The music grew quiet.
“Will the people of Many Rivers be all right?”
“Yes. They have what is most important to them, and that is their lives and each other. Buildings can be rebuilt. You will see some of them tomorrow at the healer’s house. I think you’re going to enjoy meeting Marya.
“For now, let’s enjoy the good company and laughter. Are your wounds better?”
“Yes.” She pulled back her sleeve to show him that all remained was a light pink mark. “Hardly even looks like I’ve been burnt. How did you do that?”
He leaned closer. “With love, dear one.” Then he stood. “Would you indulge me? We’ll show that silly centaur how dancing is supposed to be done.”
She agreed, uncomfortable at first, but as they swung around the clearing, the stars lighting the sky above and the earth soft beneath her feet, she experienced something new. She didn’t really understand the word love but wondered if it described what she felt at that moment.
Late into the night, they all danced and sang lively songs. She grew tired and found a soft-pillowed cushion to lie upon as the music lulled her into a peaceful sleep. Visions of a magnificent mountain city filled her dreams. The white road leading up to the gates glimmered in the sun. Children ran through the streets, giggling loudly as they pursued someone. She never saw the person, as every time he came into view, he darted around a corner or tree and disappeared again. They raced up a hillside until reaching several tall columns the color of jade. They skipped through an archway and stopped as the man stood still in the open room. His back remained turned to her. She tried to move through the group of children to see his face but was blinded by a brilliant radiance.
Alyra blinked and covered her eyes from the morning light shining in through the window. She sat up and looked around the small room. A fire burned in the stone hearth, where a steaming pot bubbled with what smelled like vegetable soup. Herbs hung on the walls, along with a few paintings of landscapes and waterfalls. She lay upon a plush couch covered with a knitted afghan. Two matching chairs sat opposite her. The front door stood open. She got up wondering if the night before had been a mere dream. But the new shirt she wore told her the feast had been quite real. Her backpack sat on one of the chairs, along with a spare set of clothing the color of a yellow daisy.
Outside the door, voices chattered.
Chapter 19
Alyra limped outside, still using the cane to keep her weight off the sore leg. She blinked against the bright sunlight, pausing on the door-stoop until her eyes adjusted. Ivy and purple Morning Glories covered the cottage’s stone walls and draped the square glass windows. The front yard burst with a variety of colorful flowers and herbs. Along one side of the house grew a neatly arranged vegetable garden. Voices drifted from the back so she headed in that direction.
The woods circled around a delightful open area behind the cottage. A bubbling creek flowed along the edge of the yard, and the White Road ran past the front. Across the crowded backyard sat a small barn. Several villagers went in and out of the double doors, some with arms laden full of blankets, or buckets of water drawn from the well. Others huddled in small groups beneath sprawling shade trees. Most of them wore bandages, or splints, but didn’t seem in any great stress or pain. As a matter of fact, the atmosphere was not nearly as solemn, as she expected. The group’s lively discussion was seasoned with boisterous laughter.
In the center of the yard spread a long table covered with plates of rolls, fruits and vegetables. Nothing compared to last night’s feast, but tempting to her rumbling stomach, all the same. A large black caldron cooked some kind of stew over an open fire. More people were seated at the table, eating soup from carved wooden bowls. Chickens pecked around the yard, gobbling up the bread crust people tossed them.
A slender woman streamed across the backyard. Her narrow, sharp face beamed into a smile when she spotted Alyra. Gray streaks flowed through her wavy black hair. She wore a brown smock over a simple green dress.
“So, you are finally awake, I see. I am Marya. How do you feel, sugar?” To Alyra’s su
rprise, she embraced her in a motherly hug, and then planted a kiss on each cheek. “Are you hungry, sweetheart? Issah said that he’s already tended to your injuries.”
Pulling back her sleeve, Alyra checked the burns, now no more than pink spots. Though the skin remained tender, it was no longer painful. She hadn’t seen her thigh since last night, but knew Issah had somehow caused the gaping cut to fuse back together. Yesterday hadn’t been a dream after all.
“Much better now.” She looked around, not seeing Issah or the Logorians. “Is he still here?”
“No, they all left after carrying you in.” Marya took in a deep breath, scanning the people crowded in her yard. Her narrow shoulders sagged, as if in weariness. Had she been working by herself on the wounded?
“If you are hungry,” she said, “Help yourself to some soup.”
Alyra’s appetite was pushed aside by an acute sense of guilt. “Is there anything I can do? This is all my faul—.”
“Don’t you even entertain such thoughts!” Marya held up her hands, palms out. “This is the work of the enemy. They’ve caused havoc on all the Kingdom towns for some time.” Sadness deepened the wrinkles over her brows. “Only lately, they’ve become more vicious about it.”
Three children ran by giggling as they pounced on one of the dwarf men. He hollered out for help, pretending they were overpowering him, which caused the children to shriek even louder. Alyra recognized him as the same dwarf directing the people in the Meeting Hall.
“Elder Wain,” Marya chided. “Don’t you irritate that head wound. Lotari did an excellent job stitching you up, we don’t want you messing up his work and creating an ugly scar.”
The dwarf stood, knocking the children off his back. “My lady, we both know scars are a mark of valor. And a nice way to catch a lady dwarf’s attention, if I might say.”
Marya shook her head, laughing. She turned back to Alyra. “Yes, there is something you can do. Lotari is in the barn tending to some of the critical patients. He’s such a help to me. We could use more bandages. If you go on in, he’ll tell you what to do. I need to check on how my herbs are stewing inside. Can you do that, dear?”
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