by Dawn Peers
“No, master.”
“And why not?”
“Because I haven’t felt the need to.”
Quinn thought that answer didn’t deserve any further justification, but Tarik raised his hand, gesturing for her to carry on. Quinn cleared her throat and continued. “Well, I’m just not threatened here. I should be scared of you, scared of everything around me. I’m just…not. When I was younger I used my abilities when I had no control over them, and when I was forced to. Now that I have the choice, I’d prefer not to.”
“Even if using it meant the difference between life and death?”
Quinn couldn’t suppress her smirk. “You’re not going to kill me, master.”
“No, but you’ve freely admitted that you’re in a strange place and amongst strange people. Just because there are gifted like you here, don’t assume that you’re safe, girl. That’s stupid, and is likely to get you killed. The baron is grateful for you and what you bring to his court, but others aren’t going to be so accommodating. You’re a threat to their position and their futures. I would start being a bit looser with that ability of yours, if it’s not going to drain you. What have you been taught about it so far?”
Quinn’s hopes perked up. “Can you teach me about that, too?”
Tarik laughed, and the hollow noise was tinged with sadness. “No Quinn, I can’t. No one alive can teach you about what you are. Nerren died at the end of the last war, as I’m sure you already know.”
Quinn sat back in the sand, deflated. “Is it true that Nerren is likely to be my father? I’ve been told so many things, but Sammah’s research said that the empathic ability can only be passed by heredity. Am I his daughter?”
Tarik shrugged. “I’m not knowledgeable in this. I’m a master with the blade, Quinn. If you’re feeling brave, you can ask Baron Pax whether he will let you speak to any of his scholars. They must have information you can use in the libraries. You’re here to help our cause, so anything that helps you, will help us as well.”
“I can’t ask him on my own. Can you come with me?”
“I’m not your nursemaid girl, you should be able to go to the baron on your own.”
“I can’t, can you see? I haven’t seen him since I got here. I’m not sure I can just present myself to him and make demands.”
Tarik seemed to contemplate this for a second before responding. “Okay, girl, I shall make you a deal. Your friends who came with you? They are both fine. One of them has been studying with the healers, and he’s meant to be seeing the baron tonight. So, you pick up that sword, get to your feet, and actually put some effort into one of these lessons, and I’ll take you to see your friend. Maybe then you can go and see the baron together, and you can ask these questions about your father. Do we have an agreement?”
Quinn didn’t respond with words, instead she threw herself to her feet, grabbing her sword and holding it firmly in her fist.
Tarik laughed. “If only you were always so keen.”
25
Tarik was true to his word, and though Quinn’s shoulders and back ached with the effort of the swings, her side biting from the pain of the vicious blow to her shoulder, as the sun dipped below the walls Tarik led her through the city. He brought her to a stop outside an anonymous and unassuming building in a poor district. Quinn asked him why the healers were located in such a place if they were so valuable.
“Because, girl, this is where most people need healing.”
In the streets all around them, children with rags for clothes and filthy bare feet skittered around excitedly. Used to seeing the healers, but excited by the strangers, they approached in droves, begging for money. Tarik shooed them away with the staff he brought with him especially for the purpose. Quinn thought it cruel, but he pointed out that if he didn’t shoo them away, they’d likely be robbed blind. These weren’t casual street urchins, and were likely in the employ of the Guild of Thieves. Tarik wasn’t in any immediate danger—the baron’s swordmaster would never be a target for any thief that wanted to keep his hands and his head—still, it would have been more than awkward to get his purse back and Tarik would rather avoid the inconvenience.
The building itself, Quinn would never have picked out as the home of the most skilled healers in Farn. That was Maertn’s home now. The only sign—the only indicator that there was anyone helpful there—was an ornate carving above a plain brown door. There were three balls in a triangle, and this shape, too, was contained within a circle. The circle was sitting in the palm of a right hand, and there was nothing more. Quinn recognised the symbol from a story scroll. She was about to knock on the door when Tarik held her back. Instead, he reached out with his staff and whacked three times, the sound strong in the comparative silence of the alleyway. Quinn expected such a racket to bring someone straight to the door, but they waited for what seemed like an absolute age before she heard bolts being slid back and the creaking of ill-attended hinges, indicating the door was being opened. An old man poked his head out through the doorway, and Quinn thought it must have taken so long because he was clearly incapable of walking any faster than a fish. Tarik filled the silence.
“We’re here to see the master.”
The old man looked them up and down. “You don’t look ill. Which master do you need?”
“You know who I am, Ban, let’s not play this game. I know that master is in residence. He’s been teaching that new lad that the baron brought in. Just once, please, can we spare ourselves the wretched dance you put me through, and can you let me in to see Rall?”
The man wheezed—Quinn assumed this was some sort of laugh—and yanked the door open the rest of the way. Quinn’s jaw dropped. The way the man had opened the door at first, you’d think he was barely capable of lifting a cup, let alone heaving open a great oaken door. Ban slid it to one side as if it weighed nothing. So, the old man act was just that, clearly meant to put newcomers off guard. Remembering Tarik’s earlier suggestion, Quinn let out a tendril of her power in the direction of Ban. What she felt was warm; there was no wickedness there. Whilst he seemed curious, she couldn’t feel all the way inside his mind, and she suspected there was a lot more to Ban than met the eye. That he was here suggested he was a healer, so perhaps he was just more experienced in his craft than Maertn have been. Perhaps when healers became more skilled, they were difficult to read.
“Who’s this you’ve brought with you, Tarik? Won’t you introduce me?”
Tarik spat, not breaking his stride to answer. “She’s the empath you heard about.”
This did bring Ban up short, and he spun on his heel to regard Quinn with sharp eyes. “Empath, is it? And have you already assessed me girl?”
Quinn cleared her throat. “Yes, I have. Do you a problem with that?”
Quinn thought she saw Tarik smirk, but if he did, he managed to hide the expression before Ban circled on him, too. “You bring an empath in here without declaring her to me? What is the meaning of that?”
Tarik shrugged. “She’s not an enemy. She’s barely into womanhood. She’s not a threat to you. She’s just here to see her friend.”
“That little boy? Everfell born and bred? You two are going to be trouble for us. I can feel it.”
Quinn bristled. “Oh? And how is that?”
Ban looked her up and down. “Because you’re already both brazen using powers in the presence of masters who know better. It’s polite to ask, not to take. That Maertn’s been the same, thinking he knows everything already, trying to teach us lessons. It’s not right.”
“Oh, so you’re jealous, is that it? A young whippersnapper comes in already more powerful than you, and you’re unhappy about it Ban?” This was Tarik’s turn, and Quinn opened herself up to quickly tell that the barbs had hit home. Ban apparently wasn’t the strongest of the healers here, and Maertn had already started putting noses out of joint. Despite herself, Quinn was proud of her friend. She’d always known he was special, and he was already proving himself amongst t
he most powerful men in his craft.
“It’s no business of yours what the healers get up to, Tarik, you know that. If you’ve come to see Rall, then come and see him. Stop wasting my precious time.”
Tarik shrugged, “You’re the one that stopped.”
They carried on in bitter silence, and Quinn didn’t hide her curiosity as they walked through the healer’s compound. The outside of the building had been grey, and the inside opened not into what she thought would be rooms, but into an atrium. They were walking through a colonnade, and in the middle was a small sand garden. It was immaculate, and not a single weed broke through the pristine grains. They were deliberately walking around it, and she instinctively knew that no one dared stand within that square. Others darted around them, but it wasn’t with the urgency of the castle of Everfell, nor with the chaos of the port. The home of the healers was a place of calm resilience, and everybody here knew what purpose they served.
“Where are all of the people that come to be healed?”
Quinn couldn’t learn more about her new home unless she asked questions. This was one of more important places she needed to know about.
“This is just the home of the healers. This is not the hospital. That's elsewhere in the city, though the day one such as you sees that is a sad day indeed. We serve there, but we don't live there. We can't heal everybody, even if all of us lived in the place permanently. If we used all of our power of the time, we’d all burn ourselves out.”
After passing through the colonnade, they entered through an archway and walked through a hall that had a well at its centre. There were various men sprawled around here. Some were engaged in conversation, where others lay flat-out, their mouths open and their eyes closed in sleep. In the next room there were rows and rows of tables, one chair at each, and Quinn realised it was a little classroom. There were just two people in this room: One student with his head bowed to the desk, and another man scratching at a black wall with a small piece of white chalk. The noise made Quinn wish she could close her ears, so she was glad that the master put the chalk down as soon as they walked into the room.
“Tarik! To what do I owe this honour?”
“My student has finished for the day. I heard yours is having a meeting. I was wondering if they could accompany each other.”
“Mine is due to see the baron.”
“Yes, I was hoping he’d be able to take mine with him.”
This man, who Quinn presumed was the master Rall, arched an eyebrow. “Will the baron be expecting this addition?”
“No, but I don't think is an unwelcome one. You know perfectly well who I've been teaching this week.”
“I do. I just want to make sure you’re not making any foolish mistakes. It would be…expensive for you.”
“I couldn’t put a foot wrong with this girl if I tried. She is guaranteed coin for me.”
At the mention of her gender, Maertn’s head whipped around. Quinn held back a gasp of surprise. His eyes were dark, circled with purple bruises. His face looked sunken. What had he been doing to himself? He looked ill—mortally so—and where Quinn felt invigorated despite her aches and pains, Maertn looked like he was pushing himself to death's door.
“Quinn!” Though his face was beginning to look skeletal, Maertn’s voice was strong, not showing any sign of wavering even though his skin was starting to stretch across his young bones. “Quinn, I have missed you! How are you? You look amazing!”
Quinn didn’t hide her opinion. “I wish you could say the same about you. What’s been happening?”
“His study to become a proper healer has begun, and that training is not yours to question, empath,” Rall responded. Quinn wanted to give him the rude barb that sat on the edge of the tongue. Tarik’s staff whipped up in front of her face, and she jammed her mouth shut.
“You’ll have to forgive my new charge, she’s somewhat headstrong.”
“With her breeding, I’m not surprised. You’ll have your hands full trying to keep this one in check.”
“Indeed? And what do you claim to know about my breeding?” Quinn emphasised the word, not happy at what the man was insinuating. master or not, she was not there to be insulted or spoken down to, and she would make sure every man and master in Sha’sek knew it.
“Come girl, you must know who your father is? There aren’t many other candidates. Still, it must be hard for you, coming from somewhere like Everfell and then finding out your father started—and ended—a war. Still, I suppose as a healer, I shouldn’t be too concerned, it meant fewer casualties, after all.”
“Indeed,” Tarik interrupted. “And you should know better than to tease students. Leave the girl alone, it’s not fair on her.”
Not fair, Quinn thought. Tarik might have had her best interests at heart, but this Rall knew more than he was letting on. Quinn didn’t want him to stop, but realised then that, as Tarik had said, he could have been mocking her. More and more his lesson on using her powers was hitting home, especially within this guild of so-called kindly healers. Quinn felt like she was surrounded by enemies. Just looking at the change in Maertn made her fearful for their future here. Maertn didn’t seem aware of the changes in him; he even had a positive air about him.
“If you’re feeling brave enough to let your student attend the baron with mine unannounced, then I shan’t be the one to stop you. Why would I? I enjoy you looking like an idiot, especially coming at my expense. It will be something funny to talk about over dinner later. Maertn, you are dismissed, make sure you have the essay across to me tomorrow morning.”
“Yes, master, of course.” Maertn bobbed his head in assent, before standing and rushing to Quinn. He embraced her, and his strong arms reminded her that he was a robust man, no matter what is face looked like. Perhaps he wasn’t eating, and had gotten overexcited with his studies. No matter what, she should ask him on the way to the baron, when they were out of the listening walls of the healers’ home and the clever ears of their masters.
“Go with him now, girl. I want you back in the barracks before the moon rises, though.”
“Absolutely master, I’ll be there.”
Tarik nodded firmly, signalling her away. Maertn grabbed Quinn by the hand, almost dragging her out of the building, not stopping as they dashed back through the room with the well, and through the serene garden with the colonnades. He didn’t stop to talk to his peers, Quinn did not hesitate because he was excited to get out of there, and that was not a bad thing. She couldn’t stop glancing over those bruises under his eyes, and whilst they did look like sleep deprivation, she couldn’t be sure that his new master wasn’t striking him.
After her heavy day under the unerring tutelage of Tarik, Quinn couldn’t run too far before she dragged back on Maertn, hauling him to a stop. Quinn doubled over, her hands on her upper legs, trying to catch a breath.
“Stop. I need to rest.”
“Stop? I thought you were a warrior now. You should be able to run all day long. What’s wrong with you?”
“Firstly, I’ve been learning for, what, four days? Secondly, what’s wrong with me? Have you looked in a mirror any time recently?”
“You mean the…”
“I mean whatever you think I mean. You look terrible, Maertn. What have they been doing to you?”
“They haven’t been doing anything, Quinn. This is normal.”
“Normal? What is it, a test? If you don’t die in your first few weeks of training, they’ll move you on to the next stage?”
“All of the active healers look like this. Did you see those men on the cushions? The healers are always exhausted. It’s just the way things are. What we do is draining.”
“You were never like this with me.”
“Yes, dear heart, but I was only ever really healing you. Sure, there was the occasional childbirth, but I shared my duties with Torran, and we didn’t serve the whole of the city. The apothecary was only available to those in the court and the castle. Here, we have
all of Farn to heal, not just the rich and those that can afford it. All of the commoners get whatever healing they need at the hospital, no matter who they are. So, we take it in turns, and to be quite frank, it’s exhausting.”
“You’ve been healing in the hospital already?”
“Of course. How else am I meant to learn to heal?”
“By reading books—weren’t you in a classroom just now?”
“Yes. There is still some theory I need to learn, and even the masters continue their studies in the classes. Because of all the practical healing I’d done in Everfell, they thought it would be safe for me to put my skills to some good use.”
Quinn beamed at Maertn then, delighted to hear the joy in his voice. Maertn’s happiness and well-being were more important than the way he looked. If he was just tired, like the other healers, then Quinn wouldn’t judge his guild harshly for it.
“That’s amazing! What did you do at the hospital?”
“A boy came in, on my first day. He’d been hit by a loose horsecart.”
Quinn’s hands shot to her mouth. “That’s awful! How did you save him?”
“Honestly Quinn, I’d tell you if I could, but I can’t even explain it to myself. He’d lost so much blood, and his legs…I don’t even think about his legs. They weren’t at natural angles. But I did what I did to you.”
“To me?”
“Yes. Remember the Beach? I went to get him. He was already quite far out. Not as far as you had been that second time.”