by Tamie Dearen
Alora felt the blood drain from her face. “I didn’t know he was that critical. Maybe I should bring Nordamen here instead.”
“I think that might be a good idea.” Doc started toward the door.
“Wait! Would you tell Jireo? Because he has to contact Darielle so she can tell Nordamen before I transport him.”
“I’ll try.” He stomped off, muttering something about communicators and transporters.
Mera perched on the edge of the chair, her stiff back radiating her tension. “Perhaps one of the other healers from Laegenshire could save him.”
Alora almost cried at Mera’s desperation, but she didn’t want to give her false hope.
“We don’t have any more healers like Laethan. He was an exceptional healer, and I think it had to do with him breaking the law.”
“Which law did he break?”
“The one that says a healer can’t have the gift of empathy, or if you’re gifted in empathy you can’t be a healer or something like that.”
“Ah.” She nodded understanding. “This law is rather recent. In the past, many Tenavae healers were gifted in empathy. Though dangerous to the healer, the gift enhances healing above all others. I suppose you have no other healers with the gift, then.”
“Well, if they have it, they sure aren’t going to admit it. Not after the council canned Laethan.”
“Canned?”
“You know... they fired him.”
“They burned him?”
“No, they took his job away. Well, he quit, before they could take it away.”
“Whatever the circumstances, it’s unfortunate we can’t call on a healer with empathy. But not surprising—the gift has become so rare.”
Alora sat down in the adjacent chair, watching Bardamen’s chest rise and fall, wondering if each breath might be his last.
“They told me empathy is rare. That’s one of many reasons I’m so sad we lost Laethan. There’s no one else to teach me about my empathy.”
Mera’s head jerked toward Alora. “You have the gift?”
“Yeah, it’s too bad I haven’t learned how to use it yet. I’ve spent most of my time trying to undo my empathy mistakes.”
A hand gripped her arm. “You have the gift of empathy?”
“Yes, but—”
“You could save him.” Mera’s hand tightened like a tourniquet.
The blood pumped in Alora’s head, pounding in her ears. I’ve already killed two people with my empathy—the guard and Laethan. How can I risk killing another?
“But I don’t—”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked it of you.” Releasing Alora’s arm, Mera covered her face with her hands.
“No, you shouldn’t. You see, I’m no good with empathy. If I make a mistake, Bardamen’ll die. I just don’t think I could handle it.”
Meravelle’s hands dropped, exposing her tear-streaked face.
“No, Bardamen’s life will not be at risk... Yours will.”
**************
Everyone was in the room.
Literally.
Everyone.
Nordamen—whom Alora had been hoping would snap his fingers and twitch his nose and fix Bardamen up in a jiffy—sat at his bedside, openly weeping.
“He can’t be saved, Alora,” Nordamen declared after hearing of the extended period during which Vindrake’s warriors fought with such clumsy efforts. “Such a ward as Bardamen held would require more than one life force could sustain. He was well aware of the consequences of his actions. He wouldn’t expect you to sacrifice your life for a hopeless cause.”
Graely, who’d insisted, of course, on coming with Nordamen, took the shaman at his word, speaking out against Alora’s intervention, but leaving the decision in the hands of the soulmate couple.
Doc was pacing against the wall, making comments like, “I’ll have to dispose of three more bodies when you’re all finished,” and “I should’ve just taken him to the hospital.”
“Being at the hospital didn’t help Alora,” Beth reminded him.
To which he responded, without blinking an eye, “You’re grounded.”
Alleraen fought hard to get out of his bed and join the crowd, but Doc insisted he stay lying down, having not had sufficient time to heal from a “shot to the gut, which he only survived by a miracle.”
So Alleraen had politely requested—with a lot of yelling and “brights”—his bed be rolled into the room with Bardamen. He held to his argument that he was closely related to Alora by blood and might be able to donate strength to keep her alive.
Jireo liked this idea a lot. Anything to keep Kaevin alive. He couldn’t sit or stand still, despite the bullet wound in his leg that left him dependent on crutches. As Uncle Charles would say, “He looked as nervous as a cat in a roomful of rocking chairs.”
Not to be left out, Brian, Wesley and Arista stood against the opposite wall, watching the events unfold, along with Janice.
Uncle Charles cemented himself behind Alora, with Raelene beside him. Only Markaeus seemed untroubled about the healing attempt, dancing with excitement, an action that shook the bed since he was leaning on the foot of it.
All those people packed together in one small room were making Alora a little bit claustrophobic. And a little bit testy, as well.
“There’s room for one more person in here if he sits in Kaevin’s lap,” she sniped. “Why don’t you go see if the mailman wants to join us?”
“Already asked him,” Beth replied in a glib tone. “He didn’t have time to stay. Had to hurry home to watch Sergeant Justice in Unseen Secrets.
Her sarcastic response brought a few moans and snickers of laughter, lightening the tense mood, a happy circumstance Alora used to lift her own spirits.
Leave it to Beth.
“Being gifted in empathy means more than simply knowing what someone is feeling,” Mera began. “You can actually feel it along with them. More than an awareness of what a person is experiencing, you go through the experience together.”
Not wanting to waste time with general explanations, Alora jumped to the part she already knew. “Laethan told me he could take away a portion of someone’s pain. The way I understand it... if there’re two gallons of pain, I could take one gallon and the patient would only have one to bear.”
“That’s true,” said Mera. “And if you’re gifted in empathy, you could also project your pain in this manner. You could share half your pain, and only bear half for yourself.”
Alora thought about the torture at her father’s hand, cringing to think she’d only felt half the pain. Feeling remorseful for the pain she’d sent to Kaevin during her torture, she used her empathy to share more of his current pain, which was considerable at the moment.
He reacted immediately. “No, Alora. Let me do my part, while you do yours. I can bear my own pain while you help Bardamen.”
When she sent the pain back, he didn’t even flinch. His fingers tightened around hers, and he smiled encouragement.
Meravelle continued, “But this is the important part of utilizing empathy as a healer. You can share your life force with a patient—a small amount—only enough to keep a soul awake.”
Alora scrunched her lips to the side, trying to loosen the scab on her mouth. “Then why would a healer ever let someone die? Why wouldn’t he just give a tiny bit of life force to each injured person to keep him alive? And what’s the risky part of all this?”
“I’m unsure,” Mera admitted.
“If you’ve got this empathy gift, why don’t you do it yourself?” Uncle Charles asked Mera.
“I don’t have the gift,” she explained. “But I’m an archivist, and I’ve studied much about empathy in the ancient scrolls.”
Uncle Charles got the same look Bozeman got when someone tried to steal his bone. “You’ve read about it? That’s it? You’ve read about it? Well I’ve read books about pilots, and you don’t see me trying to teach a pilot how to fly a plane, do you?”
“Lay off, Uncle Charles. She’s the best we’ve got, since Laethan isn’t here.”
He didn’t speak again, but Alora felt his anger—not necessarily directed at Mera, but sort of generally aimed around the room, like a bucket of splattered paint.
“Kaevin? What do you think?” Alora asked. “Your life is on the line as much as mine.”
Kaevin turned to his defender brother. “Jireo? What is your counsel?”
All eyes focused on Jireo, who spoke through gritted teeth. “I’m not in favor. My defender bond is battering the inside of my head. But I cannot say for certain you will die.”
“You don’t have much time,” Doc put in.
As she took a deep breath, Alora let her gaze rest on the fingers of her right hand entwined with Kaevin’s. He lifted her hand, pressing his lips to her fingertips. Then he leaned in and kissed her face—first, in the middle of her forehead, then on her left eyelid, then on the right corner of her mouth. The only three spots on her face that didn’t hurt.
“I believe in you,” he whispered.
“Okay.”
She reached out with her free hand, placing it on Bardamen’s hands folded on his chest as if he were posed in a coffin.
Starting the only way she knew, she looked for Bardamen’s pain.
And she was in.
**********
Alora found Bardamen’s pain immediately. Or, at least, she found the place where his pain should be. It was empty. She groped in the darkness. No emotions. It was like floating weightless in a big empty wheat silo.
Maybe he’s already dead.
She tried calling to him, mentally. But she couldn’t hear her own voice, so she figured it wasn’t working.
Where’s the life force? What does it feel like?
Whatever the essence of Bardamen was, she couldn’t find it anywhere. She withdrew and opened her eyes to find fifteen sets peering back at her.
“She’s back already.” Beth clapped her hands. “Did it work?”
“No, it didn’t. He’s like a bear, hibernating in a cave where I can’t find him.”
“We’re too late.” Mera’s lips pushed together until they blanched.
A hushed pall fell over the room.
From the back, Nordamen choked out, “Thank you for trying, Alora.”
His lips curved in a forced smile, while tears tracked down his cheeks. Likewise, teary-eyed, Graely put a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder. Even with her shield in place, Alora’s emotions were overwhelmed to the point of crying.
“Wait. I have an idea,” Alora said, wiping her face and sniffing. “If he can still feel pain, I think I can find him. I’m going back in, and I need somebody to poke his feet with a pin or something. Or, it doesn’t have to be pain—you could tickle his feet instead. I just need him to feel something, because that’s the only thing I know how to do.”
“For how long?” asked Markaeus, standing by Bardamen’s feet, looking like someone told him he could eat a whole pan of cinnamon rolls by himself.
“For as long as I’m gone.” Alora gave Kaevin a grin and a stiff kiss before she went back.
There. He’s feeling something. No, it’s gone.
Oh, it’s a tickle... No.
There... again... It’s gone.
Ow! A pinch. That’s better.
It’s gone again.
Wait... Here’s the problem. I feel it. It’s like an open drain in the bottom of the silo. Just a small hole, the size of my finger. That’s why it stays so empty. I just need to plug up this drain.
She floated down to the hole. It had seemed small, but as she probed, the hole grew. Bigger than her finger. Bigger than her hand. It sucked against her like the drain in a bathtub. She twisted in the darkness and laid her body across the hole, finally stopping the flow.
But she was trapped. She couldn’t move.
The feelings began to collect above her. A tickle. A poke. Another poke. More and more.
It didn’t hurt, not really. But the feelings grew heavier and heavier, compressing her lungs.
More feelings. A pinch. A sharp poke.
The pain was moderate, but the weight was overwhelming. Like slow suffocation.
I need to think. I need to stay calm.
She panicked. She screamed.
Kaevin! Kaevin!
She felt nothing. No fear, no pain, no connection with her soulmate whatsoever.
Bardamen! Bardamen!
Nothing. She was dying.
Bardamen! Help me! Please!
How could the feelings be so heavy? Surely she could throw them off. Dig her way out.
Thrashing in the soupy pitch black, she tossed some of the weighty feelings to the side. But something even heavier settled on top of her.
A lifeless body.
Bardamen.
She grabbed his shoulders and shook him, screaming his name, but he gave no response.
She knew what she had to do. It was no more than what Laethan had done for her.
She probed in the dark, finding Bardamen’s lips. Taking in a huge breath, she blew as hard as she could into his mouth.
His body twitched. He moved.
He’s alive!
Swallowing up the collected feelings as he righted himself, he floated to the top of the silo.
She made a feeble attempt to rise from the bottom, but she had no breath left. No buoyancy.
She stopped struggling, resting on the bottom. So comfortable. Relaxed. No pain. No anxiety. Dying seemed such a pleasant thing.
**************
Bardamen awoke to utter chaos.
People were all around him. A lot of people. Shouting. Yelling. Someone was poking his foot with something sharp. Pushing up on his elbows, Bardamen tried to make sense of his surroundings.
“Stop that, Markaeus.” He jerked his foot away.
He saw his father weeping and wondered what had happened.
Meravelle was beside him, also crying. It broke his heart to see the tears on her face. He wanted to ask who had died, but from her expression, he feared the worst. Her grandfather must have passed.
Jireo’s voice rose above the others as he wailed, “Noooooooooooo!”
Pushing people out of the way, Jireo limped forward, grabbing Kaevin’s shoulders and tumbling him out of the chair to the floor.
“Call her back!” Jireo keened. “Call Alora back!”
“I can’t reach her,” Kaevin slurred, his head lolling sideways. “I’m too weak.”
Jireo looked up at Charles. “Give me a blade! I know you have one. Give it to me!”
Charles slid a knife into Jireo’s hand.
“Kaevin, look at me! Look!”
Kaevin’s eyes blinked open.
“If you leave, I’ll do it. I swear, I’ll do it!” Jireo pressed the blade against his own neck, and a drop of blood appeared.
The room went eerily silent.
Kaevin sat up like he’d been splashed with icy water. “Jireo, stop! What are you doing?”
“Call her back! You can still reach her!” Tears streamed down Jireo’s face. “Don’t give up, or I’ll slash it. I swear, I will!”
Kaevin blinked in confusion.
“She’s right there beside you.” Jireo pointed with his nose at Alora’s prone body, lying on the floor beside Kaevin.
Kaevin hesitated, looking like he might try to take the knife from Jireo. But Jireo pushed harder on the blade, indenting his skin and hissing at the pain as more blood beaded along the sharp edge.
Twisting, Kaevin scooped Alora onto his lap, cradling her face in his hands. He bent his head down and kissed her, groaning as if the action caused great pain. Their lips stayed together, but Alora didn’t respond. The kiss continued on, while the onlookers waited... while Jireo remained motionless, with a bloody blade pressed against his own neck.
No one spoke a word.
Still Kaevin
and Alora remained, frozen in a kiss. And still, everyone waited.... and waited... until it was all too clear... Kaevin and Alora no longer lived.
“Ahhh...” Jireo exclaimed before the knife slipped from his fingers and he collapsed on the floor.
~23~
Why are people arguing in my room? I just want peace and quiet so I can sleep.
“Yes, but would you really have done it?” asked Kaevin.
“Of course... What did your defender bond tell you?” Jireo declared, as if insulted his best friend would question his integrity.
“But that’s insane. A man who would take his own life is insane.”
“I agree. A man who would take his own life, or refuse to save it, is insane indeed. But I never intended to die.”
“But you must’ve intended to die, to stir my defender bond so.”
“I only had to be willing to die—to start the action of dying—but I didn’t believe I would have to carry through.”
“But you would’ve done so?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Then, as I said, you’re insane.”
“As are you.”
“Arrrrggghhh!!!” Alora grabbed the pillow and put it over her face. “Be quiet. Can’t you see I’m trying to sleep?”
The pillow lifted, and Kaevin’s face appeared, complete with twinkling eyes and a dimple-graced grin. “Hello, beautiful!”
“Don’t make fun of me. I know I look horrible.”
“As a matter of fact, I’ve seen you look a lot better. But that lifeless look is much worse.” Jireo laughed at his own joke, and Alora tried to stay mad at him.
“That’s not very nice.” She threw her pillow, immediately regretting it when she couldn’t find another on the bed.
“Hey!” It was Beth’s voice. “Back in the land of the living, huh?”
“What’s everyone talking about? I didn’t die. At least, I don’t remember dying.” Alora searched her short-term memory, finding it rather empty.
“Oh, you died, all right,” said Beth. “Both of you. And for once, it was Doc who brought you back. Now there’s no living with him. He already thought he knew everything. Now he’s sure of it.”