by John Dalmas
He took a different approach with me than before. I'd told him how Varia had taught me meditation, which she'd set me up for early on by spelling me. So he tried teaching me stuff when I was in a meditation trance, and liked how it worked. Better than just spelling me, he said, because under a spell you're less doing than being done to, while in a meditation trance you did it yourself. A matter of self-responsibility, he said.
Right from the start I did a fair job of healing injuries. Arbel was famous for his healing, and folks came or got brought to him from miles around. One guy he worked with me on had split his foot with an ax, and another'd got slashed in a knife fight, and a little girl had fallen in her ma's cookfire. Mostly what he did was refine, and strengthen quite a bit, what I could already do for wounds like those. Taught me to focus better.
Except for the little girl that fell in the fire: I didn't know anything about healing burns; all I could have done was use a sort of general spell that would give relief from the pain, and speed the healing some. He showed me things just for burns.
Where I was weakest was in healing the sick. He had different spells for different sicknesses. Some sickness, he told me, comes from the mind. Asthma was sort of like that. Some folks could get asthma from their mind alone. Others were allergic to something-hay more often than not-but get them away from the hay, they'd keep the asthma for hours or days, or even longer, because of something in their mind that held it there. It could even kill them. When someone got asthma from hay, they could come to him and he'd treat the mind, and the asthma would quit right away, instead of hanging on. After that they could still get asthma from hay, but usually, take them away from the hay, and the asthma was gone in minutes. Commonly rashes disappeared in minutes too, at least the itching eased, and the rash would almost always be gone within the day. Rheumatism might go just as quick, or take a few days, or it could hang on.
He even showed me how to make tumors shrink up and disappear. That didn't always work either, but sometimes it did, and sometimes the tumor didn't come back. And when someone got brought in that had what I'd call pneumonia, he couldn't make it go away right off, but usually they'd feel better right away, and well, after a night's sleep. They'd be back working in two or three days, instead of a couple weeks.
Like anything else, what he did had its limits. Sometimes someone wasn't helped at all-everyone dies sooner or later-and he said the shaman who couldn't live with that had better quit and go to farming, for peace of mind. For me, not being perfect wouldn't be any problem; I'd been doing it all my life.
It was a mild sunny morning in Three-Month when I met Vulkan. Or when Vulkan found me. I'd felled a tree and was chopping logs out of it when I heard Blue Wing yelling from way up high, I couldn't tell what. Then I felt someone looking at me-someone of power-and turned around. And almost shit myself! There was a BIG boar hog standing between two trees watching me. Not that he looked like any hog I'd ever seen, not even a razorback. I could tell he was a hog, but for size he reminded me more of a shorthorn bull, a good four feet high at his humped shoulders. He had a thick coat of bristly hair, dark gray on the sides and nearly black along the back. His tusks looked like ivory sickle blades, and I'd judge his weight at better than half a ton. There was no doubt at all that were he to meet a bear in the woods, that bear would go up a tree quick as a wink, crying for its mama.
I should have been scared to death, but after the first shock I wasn't; somehow I knew he wasn't there to rip me up. So I stepped onto the log I'd just cut, squatted there and looked at him. hSo you are the one.h
His "voice" was deep and hollow, like someone talking with an empty milk pail over his head, but somehow I knew there wasn't really any sound to it-that the words had come into my head without him ever speaking. "Could be," I said. "It depends on who the one's supposed to be." That amused him; I could feel it. "Sounds as if you're looking for someone in particular," I went on. "What brings you?" hAn urge. The purpose will no doubt unfold itself for us in good time.h His hooves, the only dainty thing about him, brought him a few steps closer. hYour aura marks you as someone of power,h he said. hA ruler and magician.h
He had an aura too, all animals do, but with all that hog to look at, I'd paid it no attention. Now I did. It wasn't what I think of as an animal aura. More like yours or mine or Blue Wing's, but different. His spirit aura showed at least as much power as that giant body. I wondered if all great boars were like him, and he answered my question without my putting it into words. hWe are alike, they and I, in being magicians, and in essence, rulers. And in various other respects. But still we vary one from the other, though less than humans do.h
Then he just stood there. It seemed like if he'd come looking for me, it was up to him to lead the conversation. But if he didn't know why he'd come, maybe I ought to keep things going till he remembered or figured it out, or decided to leave. "My name's Macurdy," I told him. "What's yours?"
He didn't answer for a minute. Then, hYou may call me Vulkan,h he said. hWe do not have names, but I like that one.h
After another half minute with neither of us saying anything, I tried something else. "From what I've heard, you folks eat animals, and I've seen where one of you rooted up skunk-cabbage and ate it. But big as you are, it must take a lot to keep you fed. Seems like you'd leave more sign around than you do." hWe are quite rare, and at any rate do not eat a great deal; we draw our energy from the Web of the World, as you think of it. But as yours do, our bodies require certain substances, minerals for example, though not in large quantities. Thus we must eat, but not nearly in proportion to our size. hAnd now I begin to see-begin to-why I was drawn to speak with you. You are from Farside, and… Ah yes, Macurdy! Of course. And you plan to leave Yuulith, to return whence you came.h
How could he have known that? Unless he read it in my mind. Or was I imagining things? No, he was there all right. I'd seen enough else strange in Yuulith that I wasn't going to doubt my eyes. And Blue Wing must have seen him; that must have been what got him all excited. It seemed like if any of this was imaginary, it was his "talking" to me. So far he hadn't moved, except early when he'd come a few steps closer, and to flick his little fly-whisk tail a few times. Hadn't even moved his mouth. But his aura and eyes told of power way beyond anything the Sisters had shown me.
I decided to ask him questions-see what he'd say. "I've heard that all of you are boars," I said, "that there aren't any sows of your kind. Is that true?" hBoars? Let us simply say you heard correctly: there are no sows.h
"Well then, uh, who births you?" hWe are not born in the usual sense. We come from the inbetween, one might say. Inaccurately, of course.h
I didn't know what to make of that. "How could you come to be, without a sow to birth you?"
He chuckled again inside my head. hThe All-Spirit provides us with bodies. There is no sexuality among us.h
"But then-" He seemed to be saying they got born without any breeding taking place, or any sow giving birth. I let that be. Instead I asked him: "How did you get to Yuulith from the inbetween?" Whatever that was. hWe do not use gates. We once were humans, and enter Yuulith in the spirit, from the place of rest and recovery. We receive our bodies here. We are old souls, who have lived out the normal prerequisites for permanent retirement from the choices and lessons of life. And should have graduated, you might say. But instead have been sent here as volunteers, to prepare ourselves for some purpose we will remember, or discover, when it is time.h
I had no idea at all what to ask next. I just looked at him, maybe eleven, twelve hundred pounds of bone, muscle, and tusks, roaming around the back country rooting up skunk-cabbage and eating wild game, and maybe from time to time somebody's calf. All to prepare himself for he didn't know what. hAnd you are returning to Farside,h he said. hWell. In time, if you live, you will return here. I will find you then, for I sense we have things to do together.h
I just stared. hAnd now I will grant you a favor. As a sign.h
"A favor?" hTomorrow you will
know the favor you want. It will be foremost in your mind when you waken. When you know, I will know, even at a distance. And whatever it is, it will be yours.h
Then, without another word, he turned and trotted off.
I never did go home for my day's lesson from Arbel. Instead I sheathed my ax and hiked around in the woods, a thousand thoughts running through my head, not to mention the questions Blue Wing asked. He'd lit in a tree to watch and listen, but hadn't heard any of what Vulkan thought to me, though he'd heard me talking to Vulkan, of course.
Part of what I thought about was what favor I'd get. Could Vulkan give me Melody back? Or Varia, with her and Cyncaidh's blessing? What would be on my mind when I woke up in the morning? Could he really do it?
Along toward evening my mind settled out, and I headed back for Arbel's. I told him about meeting Vulkan, and he was impressed, but I didn't mention the promised favor. Didn't feel ready to. Besides, having spent most of the day hiking in the woods, talking in a warm room made me drowsy. I excused myself, went to bed, and fell straight to sleep, like a stone.
44: Farewell to Yuulith
" ^
The next morning I woke up with something on my mind all right: I wanted to take Hauser back to Missouri with me. Apparently that was to be my favor. Not to have Melody back, like I'd half expected; maybe because there were limits to what was possible. Or Varia, probably because it would be against her will. But Hauser. Which to my mind meant it was somehow possible to take him through. And now I'd have to tell Arbel, which I didn't look forward to. Hauser had been his slave-actually the village's, but his to use-for quite a few years.
As soon as I got dressed, I went and told Arbel what I wanted to do. He looked me over half smiling, his aura showing no sign of upset. "Why do you think I'd object?" he asked. He could read me like a book.
"I thought you might not want to let him go. He's given you some good ideas, and he's a good worker-and better company than most."
Arbel grunted. "You're right; maybe I should object." He smiled then. "In his self-chosen function as an artisan here, he has given me far more than routine service. It would be shameful to begrudge him his return."
He cocked an eyebrow. "You realize, of course, that I do not own him. He's property of the village. But if I'm willing to give up his services, the council will approve. They might, even if I weren't; you're a much bigger hero here than you recognize. But the real issue is, how will you get him through? Do you have a magic you haven't told me about?"
His sharp eyes were watching my aura, I had no doubt, and I couldn't see any way around it but to tell him about Vulkan's favor, so I did. "And I take that to mean he can," I finished.
For a minute, Arbel just stared, then he turned thoughtful. "Assume he can. Assume your Vulkan has such power. Is there any guarantee that Hauser will arrive sane? Or even alive?"
I hadn't given that a thought. "Vulkan didn't seem like someone who'd send him through a gate to arrive dead or crazy."
Arbel shrugged. "Perhaps not, if he understood the problem. I have no experience with anyone coming out in Farside."
"I'm trusting Vulkan's honesty and judgement," I said. "And his power to make it happen right."
Arbel nodded. "Let's ask Hauser," he said.
I hadn't thought of that. "I guess we'd better. But let's not mention Vulkan."
We went into the kitchen, where Hauser was restocking the wood pile. "Charles," I said softly, "if you could go back to Farside, would you? Even if it was dangerous?"
He stared at me for a long five or ten seconds, while it soaked through that I was serious. Then he turned white and started to shake, leaning against the wall to keep from falling down. I could honest to God feel his feelings. Nobody said anything for half a minute; then I told him I thought maybe I could get him through. "Arbel says it's fine with him, and he thinks the council will allow it. Do you want to try?"
He nodded dumbly at me.
"Well then," I said, and turned to Arbel. "Will you ask the council?"
Arbel asked the village headman that same day. The council met next evening, and what all might have been said, I didn't hear, but the decision was that Hauser could go if the gate would take him. I went around to each councilman the day after that and thanked him. None of them seemed to think it was any big deal as long as Arbel was happy with it.
I felt pretty sure Vulkan's magic could get him through okay, but I wanted to prepare him as much as I could. Like most people's, Hauser's aura showed some talent, more than most, but nothing like an ylf, for example.
I put myself in a meditation trance and had Arbel ask me to remember everything Varia'd done when she spelled me the first two times. The drills I could remember without any trance.
Working with Hauser was good training for me. The first time I felt a little spooked to do it, and afterward I wasn't sure we'd accomplished anything. I did the first spell, and the instructions and questions that went with it, three nights in a row. Then, with him in a shallow spell again, I taught him to meditate. That seemed to pick it up. On later evenings I drilled him, and we could see him start changing.
My own training kept going along fast, even though I was giving time and attention to Hauser. Not only my training in healing, but other training I hadn't figured to do. I still aimed to leave during Four-Month, on the noon nearest the full moon, which on their calendar is always just before the middle of the month.
I felt more than ready, and Hauser seemed to have gone as far as he could. He'd even learned to keep himself warm from inside, and to start fire-way more than we'd ever expected of him. Arbel, though, figured that getting through was more a question of inborn talent than how far you'd taken it. Unless of course Vulkan did it for him. Me, I had faith in Vulkan's magic; the training was just to help Hauser survive.
Something else happened that last week, too. Unknown to me, Arbel had been experimenting on keeping the body warm by tapping into the Web of the World, and had worked out a procedure that seemed safe, if done right. Anyway it worked for him. He told me about it on my last day, and wrote out all the steps. There wasn't time to practice them under his supervision, but if I was careful, I could practice them alone on Farside. I gave them a quick look-over; they didn't seem all that hard.
That was the evening before the gate was due to open. It was also the evening I told Hauser about Vulkan and what he'd promised, and that all the work we'd done was just in case. I'd wanted him to think it was all up to him. Now he was ready as he could get, and I wanted to ease his nerves.
***
Before I went to bed that night, I sat in front of the fire thinking about what might have been. About Melody. She'd died being what she'd always been: impetuous, reckless. She'd loved me strongly, and I'd loved her, but she was what she was; that's how the world worked. And about Varia. It still seemed as if I'd come back to Yuulith someday, and it came to me that she and I weren't done with one another yet. I shook it off. She was married to a high ylf lord, and they were happy together; had a kid, and they'd probably have more. As far as that's concerned, he was probably a better husband for her anyway, really.
I thought about Omara, too: If I'd stayed, I could have been happy with her. There mightn't ever have been any powerful love between us, but we'd have made up for that with respect and consideration, and good times in bed. But somehow, as much sense as it made, it wasn't right for me. I needed to go back to Farside.
I ended up meditating a little to still my mind. Worked like a charm. When I lay down, I went right to sleep.
And woke up fresh and confident. Had breakfast and went for a ride on Hog. I'd miss Hog; we'd been through a lot together. He'd be Arbel's now.
When Arbel's sundial said it was time, Arbel went with us. So did Blue Wing. I'd thought about what I'd say if Blue Wing wanted to go through the gate with me. Not that I thought he would, but just in case. Even if it would take him, if crossing to Farside was anything like crossing to Yuulith, he'd arrive without a feather lef
t. And if he got there okay, some sonofabitch would likely shoot him and get him stuffed.
But he never asked, just flew along sober as a judge. After two mild rainy days, the field of buckwheat we walked through was growing strong and thick, and green as you please. The sun was out, and the day as warm as any since the fall before. I could see by Hauser's aura that he was confident, even though the dark circles under his eyes told me he hadn't slept much. He could have-he knew how to still his mind now. Maybe he'd wanted to spend the night thinking and remembering, or maybe planning. As for me-I'd wait and see how things looked when I got there, likely help Dad for a while, then maybe go wandering. See more of my own world.
In the grove, the basswood buds were opening and the dogwoods were in bloom. It wasn't noon yet; we'd left early enough not to be late. I looked at Hauser and he looked at me. He was sort of grinning, but not saying anything.
We didn't any of us know exactly how long it'd be before high noon: about a quarter hour, Arbel thought. Hauser and I each had a small pouch of Teklan silver coins in our pack, and I still had most of the gold coins I'd started out with a couple months earlier. Arbel had only been willing to take one of them for his time and trouble, and I'd given three of them to Hauser.
I felt it quicker'n Arbel, then Blue Wing gave a big squawk. Something was pressing on me, just enough to notice, from off to one side. I grabbed Hauser by an arm, and walked against the pressure, which was getting stronger fast. It wasn't affecting the trees, even the saplings weren't bending from it. I guess it only affected animals.
Arbel called out, "Good luck, Macurdy!" I knew it was him, but his voice sounded strange, tinny. I glanced back, and he looked all crooked and jiggedy. I glimpsed Blue Wing, too; he looked like three or four great ravens half mixed together, flying in a little circle, and his calling had a shrill buzzing sound, reminded me of a musical saw.