The Exile and the Sorcerer

by Jane Fletcher

  *

  Tevi’s story ended with her arrival in the valley. Harrick’s team of misfits provoked their share of witticisms. She also made brief mention of the villagers. Jemeryl suspected that Tevi was being tactfully vague about their gossip.

  Jemeryl stretched back and looked about the room. She was surprised to see how dark it had become. Beyond the firelight, thick shadow filled the corners. Even the squirrels were sleeping. At the snap of her fingers, the window shutters closed. The sound of wind over the battlements stopped abruptly.

  “What’s happened?” Tevi asked, sounding curious rather than alarmed.

  “I’ve just fastened the shutters. It’s night.”

  “Already?”

  “I lost track of time as well. It’s been an unusual day.” Jemeryl took a deep breath. “I think we’re ready to take off the bandage and examine your eyes.”

  Tevi’s hands tensed. “All right.”

  Jemeryl leaned over and squeezed Tevi’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. I did a good job on your eyes.”

  “I’m sure you did. It’s not that I don’t trust you, but I don’t know what will happen if my sight isn’t restored. The mercenaries could refuse me a pension, as I got the injury in an unauthorised venture.”

  “You’re not going to need the pension—not for a long time.” Jemeryl stood and took Tevi’s hand. “Come on. It will be better if we go to your room, where there’s no firelight, while I do a few tests. Then we can come back in here.”

  In the small side room, Tevi sat on the edge of the bed. Jemeryl removed the bandage and lightly touched her fingertips to Tevi’s eyelids. The faint electric currents of nerves at the back of her retina were directly perceptible to Jemeryl’s extended senses. Everything seemed fine. Jemeryl sat beside Tevi and twisted sideways so that she faced her patient.

  “I’m going to make three small balls of light: a red, a blue, and a green. They should all appear the same size and have sharply defined edges. Tell me if you see them.” Jemeryl gently rippled the currents in the sixth dimension to create the effect she had described.

  “Yes. I can see them. Just like you said.” The joy in Tevi’s voice was unmistakable.

  “Right. I’m now going to merge the three coloured balls to make a white one. I’ll move it to where it won’t shine directly into your eyes.”

  The lights merged. Slowly, Jemeryl started to raise the level of illumination. Tevi’s outline became faintly visible, then the bed and the floor, but just at the point when the light touched the far wall, Tevi gave a gasp and screwed her eyes tight with a look of panic.

  Jemeryl doused the light immediately. “What’s wrong, Tevi?”

  “There’s too much.” Tevi’s voice was raw and tight.

  “Does it hurt?”

  “No, but it looks all wrong.”

  Jemeryl matched Tevi in despair. She had been so sure the reconstruction had gone well. “What did you see?”

  “Things were where they shouldn’t be, all over the place.”

  Jemeryl thought furiously. “That sounds as if a nerve has been misconnected. Wait a few minutes and we’ll try again. If you can give me a better idea of what you’re seeing, I should be able to correct the fault. Let me know when you’re ready.”

  Tevi’s hand clasped Jemeryl’s arm. “I’m all right. It wasn’t painful, but it threw me. “

  Once again, Jemeryl gradually increased the light. “Now. Tell me what you can see that’s strange.”

  Tevi let go of Jemeryl and gripped the edge of the mattress, keeping her head very still. “I’m looking straight ahead, but I can see the floor and the ceiling, my knees, your shoulder, and there’s too much wall.” Again, her eyes squeezed shut.

  Inspiration hit Jemeryl with a thump. She studied her patient in astonishment. The unexpected snags while reconstructing Tevi’s eyes at last made sense. Abrak’s potion had not been the cause, although the truth was just as surprising.

  “Can you fix it? Do you know what’s wrong?” Tevi’s voice held an edge of panic.

  “I know what was wrong.”

  “Was? But they still aren’t right.”

  “No. Your eyes are fine now. The problem with them was in the past, and I’m not referring to the crystallisation.”

  “What...when?”

  “It’s known as tunnel vision. In rebuilding your eyes, I’ve inadvertently cured it.”

  “Cured?”

  “Even before you fought the basilisk, you had defective vision. You only saw out of the centre of your eyes. The nerves to the outer segments were damaged. I guess you were born like it and never realised you weren’t seeing properly.”

  “My eyes were fine.”

  “I don’t think they were. While I was rebuilding them, I hit a few unexpected snags with your eyes. I put them down to something weird about the crystallisation, but they would tie in with tunnel vision. More to the point, what you just described seeing would be considered perfectly normal by anyone with healthy eyesight.”

  Tevi sat in silence while Jemeryl’s words sank in. “You mean that everyone sees the world like this all the time? It’s awful. How do they cope?”

  Jemeryl laughed, mainly with relief. “It’s just what you’re used to. Once you get the hang of it, a wide peripheral vision is a useful thing to have—especially, I would have thought, for someone in your profession.”

  *

  Some time passed before Tevi was able to open her eyes without being overwhelmed by nausea. It took a conscious effort on her part not to try focusing on the entire room simultaneously. She needed Jemeryl’s assistance to get back to the parlour, walking with her eyes closed. Jemeryl dimmed the fire to a dull red glow that illuminated without casting any harsh, bright light.

  Tevi sat uneasily in her chair, taking quick peeks at her surroundings while trying to keep as still as possible. Every time she moved, the room whirled. Only by a very slow, cautious effort was she able to turn and examine the sorcerer. The subdued firelight showed a young, triangular face surrounded by unruly auburn curls. Dark amber shadows were cast in the hollows of Jemeryl’s eyes and cheeks. A lopsided grin completed the impish effect.

  “I’d wondered what you looked like.”

  “Well, don’t say whether I’m better or worse than you imagined. It gives grounds for offence either way.”

  “Can I say you look a lot better than the villagers implied?”

  “You mean I haven’t got a hooked nose, fangs, and bloodshot eyes?”

  Heedless of the dignity of her status, Jemeryl’s appearance was highly informal. One leg was stretched out, while the other was pulled up on the seat. Her arm rested along the back of her chair, with a slender, long-fingered hand dangling loosely at the end. She was wearing a shapeless white shirt, several sizes too big, with sleeves rolled back to the elbows. Tevi thought that Jemeryl’s looks, if not exactly as imagined, accorded very well with her easygoing manner.

  “You’re younger than I expected. I could tell by your voice you weren’t old, but I still had a picture in my mind.” Tevi studied the sorcerer. “Do you genuinely look like that, or have you altered your appearance?”

  Jemeryl laughed. “I’m really, truly only twenty-two. Using magic to change the way you look is seen as very immature. I’ll admit to combing my hair from time to time—not that it does much good.”

  “If she was going to muck about with magic, wouldn’t you expect better results than this?” Klara said, from her habitual perch on Jemeryl’s chair.

  “Oh, I would say she...” Tevi’s mouth went dry; her stomach flipped over.

  Jemeryl’s face was not one of refined classical beauty. Such a face could not have taken the mischievous grin that lit her features. Yet as Tevi felt her heart pounding against her ribs, she knew that Jemeryl’s appearance was altogether much too much to her liking. Almost against her will she found herself picking out the details: the belt pulling the shirt in around a slim waist, Jemeryl’s finely formed hands, and the small dark
hollow at the base of her throat.

  “What?” Jemeryl asked.

  “Pardon?”

  “What would you say? You didn’t finish your sentence.”

  “Oh...nothing.”

  “It’s all right. You’re allowed to have an opinion about me. After all, I’ve been watching you for the last couple of days, and I’ve formed some opinions of my own. If you like, I’ll sit beside you and tell you what they are.”

  Tevi did not think about Jemeryl’s words. Her only coherent idea was a desperate hope that mind reading was not one of the sorcerer’s skills. She had no desire to discover Jemeryl’s response to the uncontrolled emotions churning inside her.

  She could feel Jemeryl’s eyes as if they were deliberately trying to catch hers. Rather than risk that happening, Tevi twisted back to the fire and was swamped by nausea as the room leapt cartwheels around her. Her lips pulled back in a grimace and she scrunched her eyes shut.

  After all her plans to avoid personal contact, she had allowed herself to become far too keen on Jemeryl and had not realised it until the moment she set eyes on her. Just because you were blind to the world didn’t mean you had to be blind to what was going on inside you. Tevi cursed herself as a fool. She was in trouble. She was a heartbeat away from being in love—with someone it was far too dangerous to offend.

  *

  At the other side of the room, Jemeryl was waiting for Tevi’s response to her overture. Part of her was confident that Tevi would welcome the offer to sit beside her, and from there, things would progress in a predictable, and very enjoyable, direction. Part of her was gnawed by agonised apprehension. Butterflies in the stomach did not begin to describe it. Jemeryl found herself praying for a smile. Instead, she saw Tevi’s expression switch to one of pain.

  “Are you all right, Tevi?”

  “I moved too fast. It upsets my stomach. Are you sure everyone sees like this?” Tevi said quickly.

  “Everyone with normal vision.”

  “I guess I’ll have to get used to it.”

  And I guess I’ll have to improve my timing, Jemeryl commented to herself. Try waiting until she’s not feeling sick. Aloud, she said, “I could block off your peripheral vision, but I’d be loath to do that. You should give it a good try before you make any decisions.”

  “It’s strange to think that all my life, I just assumed everyone saw things the same way as me.” Tevi’s voice was strained.

  “Didn’t you notice that other people could see more of what was around them?”

  “Not really. Although some things now make sense. My teachers were always telling me to watch my opponent’s feet out of the corner of my eye. I never knew what they meant.”

  “It must have been quite a handicap.”

  Tevi’s attempted smile was unconvincing. “It would be nice to think it’s the reason I’m so incompetent at fighting.”

  “ Incompetent is not a word normally applied to any warrior who kills a basilisk.”

  “I am by the standards of my village. Do you think I’ll be better now?”

  “It’s hard to say. You may be able to make full use of your vision, or habits may be so ingrained you’ll be unable to change. But your family can’t have thought that badly of you if they entrusted you with the quest.”

  “I wasn’t given the quest as a mark of honour.” Tevi looked as if she was about to throw up.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” Jemeryl was now very concerned.

  “I’m just a bit queasy. Maybe some smoke from the fire...” The halfhearted words died away.

  Jemeryl moved to a stool by Tevi’s side but restrained the urge to touch the other woman. Adding everything together, things were making more sense. She volunteered to find the chalice as an act of bravado to silence her critics.

  Tevi stared forlornly at the ground.

  “I can’t promise, but now that your eyes are fixed, if you find the chalice and go back...”

  “There’s not much chance of that.”

  “Yes, there is, with my help.”

  “Do you know where the chalice is?”

  “No, but I know how to go about finding it.”

  “I suppose if you point me in the right direction...”

  “Better than that, I’ll come with you.”

  “You can’t do that.” Unlike her previous apathy, this time Tevi’s response was immediate, horrified.

  “Why not? The villagers will be relieved to see me go and I can help you enormously. Wouldn’t you like my company?” Cautiously, Jemeryl reached out and took hold of Tevi’s hand.

  The effect on Tevi was instantaneous. She snatched her hand away and lurched to her feet. “I don’t know about the chalice. But you can’t come with me.”

  “Tevi?”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to sound rude. Thank you for the offer. It’s kind of you, but it’s out of the question. I...I’m...I think I need to go to bed.” Tevi fled.

  Alone in the parlour, Jemeryl sat bewildered. How had things gone so wrong, so quickly? She looked at Klara. “Why was she so upset? What did I say?”

  “I think it’s more what you did. She doesn’t want to hold your hand. Mumbling sweet nothings in her ear and strolling in the moonlight are probably out as well. You can forget the rest.”

  Jemeryl stood up. Her eyes fixed on the door to Tevi’s room. She took a half step and then stopped, turned around, and threw herself down in her chair. She glared at the embers of the fire, confusion giving way to hurt. Somehow, she had taken it for granted that Tevi would return her affection, but it was impossible to miss the rebuff in Tevi’s behaviour. And it did not take any sorcerer’s arts to know the rejection had been largely personal.

  “I thought she liked me.”

  “Ah, but that was before she saw you. Maybe you look an awful lot worse than she was expecting.” Klara fluttered down to the arm of the chair. She tilted her head to one side. “And to be brutally honest, her expectations needn’t have been that high.”

  With a forced attempt at a smile, Jemeryl pushed the magpie off her perch.

  *

  Jemeryl left the shutters in place the next morning, since she knew that Tevi’s eyes would be hypersensitive. Consequently, the parlour was still in dim half-light when Tevi finally made her appearance. Jemeryl watched with concern. It was apparent that the night’s sleep had done nothing to improve Tevi’s mood. Problems with vision had to be a contributing factor, but Jemeryl was gloomily certain there was more to it.

  “Good morning, Tevi. How are you?”

  “Not good,” Tevi mumbled.

  “Is it just your eyes?”

  “More or less. I feel a bit nauseous as well.”

  “Breakfast might help. There’s bread, honey, and milk on the table.”

  Tevi stumbled across the room and sat with a groan.

  Jemeryl joined her at the table, though she kept a discreet distance. For a while, Tevi picked at her food, her whole manner subdued. The easy friendship of the previous day was gone, replaced by a strained reserve. This was not the time to press the issue of joining Tevi on the quest, but it would be several days before Tevi was able to travel. Jemeryl could only hope that things would improve by then.

  Tevi ate slowly, her eyes glued to the tabletop. “I’m not sure if I’m ever going to be able to cope with this.”

  “It will get easier. Give it time.”

  “I...I’m sorry if I’m not seeming too grateful at the moment.”

  Tevi’s voice had lost some of its sullen tone, which gave Jemeryl the confidence to quip, “That’s all right. I can wait until tomorrow for you to tell me how wonderful I’ve been.”

  “I suppose, to be fair, I could concede that now.” Tevi closed her eyes in a grimace. “But the light is very bright.”

  “The shutters are closed.”

  “I know. How long before my eyes will be better?”

  “You should notice some improvement by tomorrow. In eight or nine days, you’ll
be able to cope with full daylight.”

  “I guess that’s not too bad.”

  “It might be a bit boring for you. There’s nothing exciting I can offer in the way of entertainment in the dark,” Jemeryl said. At least, nothing you’ve given me grounds to think you might be interested in.

  “I’ve had enough excitement in the past few days. But I don’t want to stop you, if there’s anything you need to do. I don’t mind being left alone.” Tevi’s tone implied that she would even prefer solitude.

  Jemeryl tried to prevent her disappointment from showing—an unnecessary precaution, given that Tevi had not once glanced in her direction. There seemed little hope of charming her way back into Tevi’s favour. Investigating other options seemed the best hope. She was sure that part of Tevi’s reticence was due to a belief that finding the chalice was impossible. Proving otherwise might not remove all objections, but it would be a start. Few resources were at hand in the castle, yet they were almost certainly sufficient to deduce Abrak’s true identity. From there, other leads might come.

  A little diplomacy was called for. Jemeryl tried not to sound too eager as she said, “There’s nothing I have to do. However, your story of Abrak caught my interest, as a sorcerer. I thought while you’re around to answer questions, I might try to find out more about her.”

  “What would you like to know?”

  “I’ve got books in my study that will mention her, but I’d need to know her real name.”

  “Her real name? What’s wrong with Abrak?”

  “It’s like a miller called Dusty or a carpenter called Chips. ‘Abrak’ is a joke name for a sorcerer, short for ‘Abracadabra.’ It’s a piece of meaningless gibberish that for some reason is linked with magic in the minds of storytellers.”

  “Oh.”

  “Do you know any other name for her?”

  Tevi shook her head and clearly regretted it instantly. She clasped her hands to her temples. “Idiot,” she winced between clenched teeth. Her arms dropped and she met Jemeryl’s gaze with a faint smile for the first time that morning. “I meant me, not you. The room whirled when I did that.”