A Shaper's Promise

by Karen MacRae

  “Can we be of assistance, milord?”

  “We need some volunteers, Sergeant. Miss Northcott here is going to do some Healing.”

  The Sergeant gulped. “Er, milord, I’m not sure… I mean, I don’t know… Em, they’re only newbies…”

  “Oh, don’t be a bore, young man. Get on with rounding them up. We’ll need four groups, I would think.” Lord Witheridge began to point. “Those with injuries or pain in their legs are to stand over there. Any with injuries or pain in their torso, over there. Arms, over there. Heads, over there. That will have to do for now. We can work on further subdivisions another time. Chop chop! We don’t have all day!”

  The browbeaten Sergeant started barking orders at his troops who looked utterly confused at his orders. After a few minutes, the neatly ordered battalion had reorganised itself into four groups. A few stragglers stood in the middle, not sure where to put themselves.

  “Pick a group, guards!” the old man bellowed. Anna wondered if he’d been in the army at one stage in his life. The stragglers ran in different directions and the four groups were complete.

  “Who’s going to win a night off at the Soldier’s Return by going first?” he yelled. There was a moment of stillness and then hands shot up all over the place. “The promise of ale and recreation time is a combination almost guaranteed to override any superstition in a King’s Guard,” Lord Witheridge whispered to Anna with a gleeful chuckle.

  “Seleste, who were the first three to get their hands up?” he asked. She pointed out a man in the leg group, a man in the torso group and a woman in the arms group. “Go on then, Anna. Go do your thing.”

  He shoved a lump of clear Aurovian crystal into her hand and pulled out his ever-present notepad. “Legs first, I think,” he instructed.

  The man who’d won himself a night off in the town’s best inn stood resolutely before the Shaper. His heart was beating wildly, but the soon-to-be often repeated and exaggerated story of this encounter would have him being the only man brave enough to stand down the most powerful gifted in the Kingdom. Anna gave him what she thought a reassuring smile and he nearly ran for it when he saw what appeared a look of anticipated pleasure on her face. He stood firm but couldn’t help but close his eyes when her hand reached for him though. About two moments later, he opened them again in shock. His feet weren’t sore any more.

  “New boots?” whispered the Shaper.

  “Yes, miss,” he replied in wonder.

  “You have my deepest sympathy,” she grimaced, gesturing to her own feet, now clad in soggy, muddy socks. “I gave up on mine.”

  “Yes, miss. Thank you, miss,” he answered with genuine gratitude, surprising himself by snapping to attention and saluting the girl.

  “Well? Describe it, young man!” ordered Lord Witheridge impatiently.

  “They’re better, milord. My feet. They’re good as new and I didn’t feel a thing.”

  “Anna?”

  “It worked the same as usual, milord. I Healed the blisters and encouraged a couple of new callouses so his feet are all right in those new boots.”

  The Scientist made a note then made his way to the man with the sore torso.

  Anna saw immediately that the man had taken a nasty thump to his ribs. “Ouch! What hit you?”

  The soldier grinned. “The Sergeant, miss. Weapons training.”

  “There you go,” Anna told him as the last of the grey drained from his aura.

  “Dam… Sorry… It’s gone,” the guard told the waiting Scientist. “Thank you, miss,” he added sincerely, saluting the girl with great respect.

  The third guard to raise their hand was standing in the arm group. Anna took one look at her and felt fury swell through her aura.

  Seleste took a step forward and grabbed her arm. “What’s wrong?” she asked. She couldn’t see specifics, but she could Read sufficiently well to see that the Shaper was on the edge of exploding in anger. She looked at the guard but could only see a yellow and grey aura.

  Seleste’s intervention had given Anna the chance to control herself. She moved in close enough to the guard that others couldn’t overhear. “Who did this?” she asked her.

  The guard shook her head. “No one. I fell, miss,” she replied, her eyes begging the Shaper not to reveal the truth. “My arm is the worst of it. It doesn’t seem to be getting better.”

  Anna took a deep breath as her mind ran over the multitude of bruises that covered the woman’s aura. She was all too familiar with the handiwork of a sexual sadist who lacked any pretence at control. This woman had not been a willing partner but had not reported the offence. It was her choice to make, but the culprit should be exposed for the sake of others. He would do it again.

  Anna eased each injury as she passed, finally reaching the woman’s right arm. It was broken in two places and healing badly. “This will take a little longer, milord. It’s a nasty break.”

  Lord Witheridge shuffled from foot to foot as Anna talked him through what she was doing. First, she blocked the woman’s pain, then she broke the woman’s arm anew and had Seleste help her straighten the injured arm so it could be repaired in its proper position. It took about a minute in all and Anna received her third salute.

  “Thank you, miss… For everything.”

  “If you have any more bother with it, please come and find me. I’ll do everything I can to prevent something like this happening again,” she promised.

  The woman nodded, the message received.

  It was getting dark by the time they finished, all cuts, bruises and old breakages eased. No one left. All stayed to salute the Shaper one more time en masse. Some Shapers might be monsters, but this one was theirs and she was all right.

  Anna was exhausted when they finished, but it was her stomach growling loudly that reminded Lord Witheridge that dinner was long overdue. Seleste led a grateful Anna straight to the nearby mess and made her sit while she gathered a huge trayful of food for them both. Anna’s hand reached straight for the fresh bread, tearing off a large chunk and dunking it in the thick broth. She’d just about got it into her mouth when Seleste leaned forward, unable to contain herself any longer.

  “Tell me of the woman,” she asked in a quiet, fierce voice. “I’ll help, if I can.”

  Anna looked across the table in surprise. She’d said nothing and Seleste claimed to Read poorly. How would she know? Rather than the normally still, unReadable grey aura, this time Anna saw a deep, burning anger in Seleste. She hadn’t needed to Read, she’d recognised a soul that mirrored her own: she too was a victim. Anna’s heart ached for the young woman, but she knew Seleste wouldn’t welcome questions. She simply nodded and the pair tucked into their dinner, the silence between them companionable for perhaps the first time.

  Up on the battlements, a pair of brown eyes peered into the twilight and wondered what kind of Shaper this was to waste her power on creatures that were so far beneath her. A Healer Shaper? He’d never heard of the like. His master would need to be fully informed. He scuttled down the stairs and followed the dark passageways to the main gate. Half an hour later, he arrived at the servant’s entrance to a beautifully appointed mansion. A note would be sent by bird. He’d have the reply tomorrow.

  CHAPTER 26

  S creams pierced the darkness of the corridor on the fifth floor. Terror, pain and anguish tore at the newly awakened souls with each sound. Luciado. Only he could import such emotion in a scream. Spider, Sy and Anna jumped out of bed almost before they realised they’d moved, driven by base instinct to help. They reached Chiara and Luciado’s door at the same time. All had weapons in hand.

  Spider pushed the door open and the three rushed in to defend the Healer and her son from whatever or whoever was tormenting them. There was no one.

  Chiara sat on her son’s bed, cradling the boy in her arms. Her tear-stained face begged her would-be rescuers for help. “He’s still asleep. It’s a nightmare. I don’t understand. He hasn’t had one since before Alscombe.�
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  Anna looked at the boy’s aura. Something had disturbed his normal calm. Emotions and memories twisted the pale blue. She couldn’t decipher them. They needed Lady Braxton.

  “No! No! Leave me alone!” the boy muttered, struggling to escape his mother’s arms.

  Chiara let go, but still the boy tossed and turned, desperate to escape whatever demon ransacked his mind. “Oh, light, the smell… the smell…” Luciado gagged then froze. He curled up into a ball and the screams turned to sobs. “Not again, please, not again. Please, no more,” he pleaded. His hands curled tighter and tighter, his nails drawing blood from his palms. Suddenly, he quietened. It was over.

  The adults looked at each other. It didn’t take a genius to work out that a memory of his time as Elona’s pet had resurfaced, but why? They gathered over by the door, unwilling to wake the child from his uneasy sleep.

  Anna was the first to speak. “Smell helped him to remember you, Chiara. I saw it with my own eyes. And he mentioned smell now. He must have smelled something that’s awoken a memory best forgotten.”

  “Yes, but what?” asked Chiara. “I can’t think of anything about that time that stands out.”

  “Does Elona like incense?” asked Sy.

  “Not that I know of. I was never admitted when Luciado was required to… entertain her guests so I can’t be sure about those rooms, but she didn’t use it elsewhere.”

  “What about oils?” asked Spider.

  “Oils?” queried Anna.

  Spider reddened slightly. “Oils that you might have come across in Miss Grayson’s establishment?” he hinted. Anna thought back to the service rooms in the brothel. All came equipped with a selection of oils and unguents for lubrication, contraception, stimulation and a host of other possibilities. She remembered the women joking about the stench of some of the obscure ones.

  “Where on earth would Luciado come across any of them here?”

  Sy and Chiara looked confused.

  “Lubricants for sexual pleasure,” Anna explained bluntly.

  “Light have mercy,” Chiara whispered.

  “There might be an innocent explanation, but I think I’ll be having an in-depth conversation with young Davy before breakfast. The two of them are rarely apart and I doubt it’s a good idea to be interrogating Luciado. Sy, you in?” Spider asked.

  “I’ve had enough of a holiday,” agreed the big man. “We’ll get to the bottom of it, Chiara. I promise.”

  Spider and Sy were perched on the end of Davy’s bed before the morning bell. He woke confused, but his quick brain soon realised he wasn’t in trouble for once. This was a bargaining opportunity. He smiled to himself.

  “So what can I help you gents with?” he asked with a toothy grin.

  “We need to know everything that happened to you and Luciado yesterday.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Absolutely everything. Don’t leave a thing out,” Spider ordered.

  “But why?”

  “Just do as you’re told. Consider it an exercise in observation and recall. It’s an important part of working for the King.”

  Davy’s considered Spider’s explanation.

  “But why?”

  Spider looked at Sy, exasperated by the boy’s prevarication. Sy tried a different tack.

  “How about you do it for a slice of my berry pie?”

  “How about a whole berry pie and you give me your recipe for pumpkin cream pie?”

  “Chef has been after that recipe for years. Why do you want it?”

  “Duh! Because chef has been after it for years. You’re not here all the time. Chef is.”

  “Nope, I won’t let you torment the poor man. I’ll make you a berry pie, but you have to share it with Luciado. For free.”

  Davy looked hurt. “What do you take me for? As if I wouldn’t share with a mate.”

  “Not only would you almost certainly try to negotiate something in return, you’d probably sell half off first.”

  “In which case, I’d need two pies.”

  Sy laughed. “Done! Two pies. Now, out with it! Everything you did, everyone you saw, everything you talked about, everything you heard, everything you smelled… everything. And don’t leave anything out, not even the most insignificant of details.”

  The two men left with all the information they could need, nicely wrapped up in a whole day of irrelevancies. Davy might be annoying at times, but there was no doubt about his abilities. Spider and Sy agreed he’d be an integral part of the King’s Circle as soon as he graduated from Ionantis, if not before.

  Davy went to find Luciado as soon as he was up and dressed. He found his new friend in the kitchen, bagging up snacks to last him until lunch.

  “Don’t worry, I’ve got plenty for you too, Davy,” the Singer said without pausing.

  “How do you do that? I barely made a noise!”

  “Yep, you’re nearly as quiet as Captain Laracy in the training square,” joked Luciado.

  Davy pulled an indignant face before remembering that Luciado couldn’t see it. “For that, you can help me learn that stupid song and suffer all my wrong notes!” Davy retaliated.

  His mother smiled indulgently at the boys’ banter, glad that the two got on so well despite Luciado’s disability. “So what are you two planning to do after school today then?” she asked.

  “We’re going to go fishing with Conal,” Davy replied, all innocence.

  The mention of Davy’s elder brother reassured Chiara that the boys would come to no harm and, after getting their assurances that they would be back in time for dinner, she left them to their breakfast.

  Luciado swallowed his mouthful of pastry. “Conal’s coming?” he asked.

  “Light, no. We don’t want him hanging around. Come on, let’s grab some stuff and get out of here.”

  “Master Braxton,” boomed an ominous voice, “I am pleased to see you have broken your fast. Let me accompany you to the school room.”

  “Damn and blast,” swore the young man, just loud enough for Luciado to hear. He plastered a big smile on his face and swung round to face his dreaded governess. “Good morning, Mistress Oclare. I was just telling Luciado how much I was looking forward to learning more about the War of the Continents. He said it sounded fascinating.”

  The teacher wasn’t fooled. Master Braxton would rather do anything than sit in a schoolroom for more than ten minutes. “What a shame we’re focusing on mathematics and languages today,” she smiled. Davy groaned. Languages were all right, but he hated mathematics. He turned to pull a face at Luciado and was surprised to see a smile on the boy’s face.

  “Oh good, I love maths,” he said.

  Forty minutes later, Davy was silently applauding his friend’s manipulation of Mistress Oclare. He hadn’t thought it possible, but Luciado had managed to get her to drop the boring, easy stuff and talk about things that were actually interesting. Luciado had explained to her that he’d discovered sounds and echoes could tell him where things were and the teacher had launched into a whole new area of mathematics Davy had never been taught before. It was actually fun. He wasn’t sure just how much he understood, but for once he could see why it was important to know this stuff. It could be really useful for his snooping career.

  “Please, miss, do you think we could try some of this stuff out? It would make a lot more sense if I could see it working,” he asked.

  Mistress Oclare looked at her errant pupil. For once, he seemed genuine. “Can I trust you not to run off, Davy? Will you promise?”

  “You bet. This stuff is zinging.”

  The teacher shook her head at his choice of adjective, but let it go. Now was not the time to risk ending a rare show of enthusiasm.

  The servant resting on his broom on the battlements heard the sound of high heels clomping up the stairs and started to sweep the already pristine slabs. He cursed when he made out the lighter steps of children accompanying the woman. Only two brats lived in the keep and, while the pet
might be blind, he needed to avoid any who might identify him until his new orders were executed. A woman’s voice reached his ears just as he made it to the next exit.

  “So it’s useful to think of water. If one drops a stone into a lake, where do the ripples go? How does the water act around obstacles?”

  “But the ripples just go out, don’t they?”

  “Yes, Davy, they do, but the important thing is that they go out in all directions from the source, but they are affected by anything they come in contact with.”

  “But what if it’s raining?”

  “An excellent question. What do you think the answer might be?”

  “It’s noisy, miss,” answered Luciado.

  “Excellent, Luciado. So, tell me, how might we separate out the thing we want to know about from all that noise? What might tell us where the source is?”

  The spy shook his head at the ridiculous things schoolboys were taught these days and escaped down the stairs. It wasn’t a disaster that he’d had to desert his post: there was little for him to learn while the Shaper and her minder were getting put through their paces. Not that the Shaper was up to much. She walked like a tin man on hot coals this morning and had yet to get anything right in the self-defence training. The spy laughed. He did love a feeble adversary.

  Sure enough, when Anna had awoken that morning, she’d felt like an entire battalion had used her as a punch bag. To make matters worse, she thought she’d detected a glimmer of an answering smile from Natalie, the girl who brought her breakfast, but the loud “Ow!” she’d let out when trying to sit up had sent the server near screaming from the room.

  Seleste had given the Shaper no sympathy when she’d arrived. “It’ll ease as you get moving,” was all she’d said. A small smile had tweaked her mouth momentarily when Anna had begged her help to put on two pairs of thick socks because she couldn’t bend over, but all she’d done is suggest that her newly softened boots might be more appropriate. It had taken the sight of the huge blisters on the Shaper’s heels and the soles of her feet for Seleste to grudgingly admit that perhaps socks were a better option.