He glanced over his shoulder to where Lore and Renni stood and Winter huddled on the ground. “Lore, you alone will be spared, but only if you aid me now. Bring me the knife our friend Winter has so kindly provided through his newfound talent.”
Lore looked down at the paper on which Winter had made the very realistic charcoal drawing of a knife. Frowning, he reached down, and as his hand covered the hand in the sketch, the knife in the drawing acquired substance and appeared in his hand. His fingers closed around the hilt. He lifted the knife, gazed at it a moment, and then walked toward Jerome, who wore a big smile.
Jerome turned back to face the majority of the group, and addressing that audience, he announced, “You see, I can be pleased and appeased. Unfortunately, it is too late for all of you. Only Lore has—”
His words ended in a scream. Lore, coming up behind him, had plunged the knife deep into Jerome’s back.
Veronica gasped along with all the rest at the sight of their enemy lying face down in the sand, blood seeping from a deep wound in his back. Standing over him holding a bloody knife, Lore wore an expression of triumph mixed with awe. He seemed as astonished as everyone else by what he’d done.
No one moved. It seemed to Veronica that time had frozen.
Renni moved first. She hurried to Lore, clapped him on the back, and said, “I guess you’ve redeemed yourself. I’m proud of you and I’d guess everyone else is, too.”
Ed dashed to the fallen monster and picked up Dreama, who fortunately had not fallen beneath Jerome but had landed beside him in the soft sand and was kicking her feet and squalling. He handed Dreama off to Marta, who took the baby into her arms and examined her closely for any injury.
As though freed from stasis, the group began chattering and moving around, offering congratulations to Lore and expressing their relief at Jerome’s defeat. They checked Petros, determined that he lived, and carefully placed him on his wheeled platform. Winnie went to Petros and attempted to heal him, but her power was gone. Abigail and Leah remained locked in their embrace unable to move. Apparently the stabbing had not undone the damage Jerome had wrought.
Veronica stayed where she was, beside Kyla, and gazed intently at the fallen enemy. She saw his fingers dig into the sand, his head move. He still lived!
Others saw it, too, and spread out away from him.
“Healer,” his voice croaked. “I need a healer.”
For a time no one moved. Then Veronica walked over to where he lay. “Have you forgotten that you took away our powers?” she asked scornfully.
He groaned. “Water, give me water.”
“Have you also forgotten that you turned this land into a barren desert?” she asked. “But don’t worry, you’ll bleed to death before you can die of thirst.”
“Heal me,” he pled again.
“How can I? You took my healing power away.”
“I’ll give it back.”
“Fine. Do that,” she said. She needed to see whether in his weakened state he had enough power left to restore what he’d taken.
Marchion came to her side. “He didn’t take my power to enhance,” he said. “I can lend him strength. But should we?”
“We need the abilities he took from us,” Veronica said. “And he needs to free Abigail and Leah from the spell he put on them.”
“Water,” Jerome moaned again.
“Restore our powers and Trille may be able to sing you a bit of water. But first she needs healing, so you’ll have to restore my healing power. And you’ll have to free Abigail and Leah, because as deep as your wound is, I can’t heal it and Trille as well. We’ll probably need Winnie, too.”
He groaned and tried to push himself up, but could not. Veronica doubted that he could restore the abilities he had taken. Nevertheless, she persisted. “If you want water, and you want to be healed, you have to restore the gifts you took. All of them.”
“Can’t,” he mumbled. “No strength.”
“I guess you’ll just have to lie there and die then,” Veronica declared.
She turned to walk away. A sudden infusion of power stopped her. He’d done it! He’d restored her power to heal. But she wanted more.
“Now free Abigail and Leah,” she ordered. “And restore all the gifts you took.”
“I’m dying,” he said, his voice weak. His eyes closed. Blood trickled from his mouth.
Fearing he’d lose consciousness at any moment, she made a decision. She bent down and placed a hand on his back, near the wound.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Renni said, coming to her side. “It took a lot of courage for Lore to do what he did. Don’t undo it.”
“I don’t plan to,” Veronica said. “He has to be strong enough to restore our powers.” She pulled her hand away and nodded at Marchion. “Feed him a bit of power.”
Marchion must have done so. Jerome’s eyes opened. He glared at Veronica. “Finish the healing,” he said, his former imperiousness returning to his voice.
“You finish undoing the damage you did,” she said.
“No. I’ll heal myself. I have enough power for that.”
“Maybe, but you’re not a healer,” Veronica said, hoping she was right.
He fell silent for a time, and she waited. She looked around the group, sent a mental question: Have any of you gotten your abilities back?
The lack of response gave answer enough. She continued to wait.
Lore stood nearby with the knife. “If he does heal himself, I’m ready to stab him again.”
“He’d be on guard against that. You wouldn’t get the chance again,” Renni said.
That was true. But at least Lore remained on their side of the struggle. Veronica didn’t trust him, but he had every reason to fear Jerome’s wrath.
After a little while longer Jerome spoke. “Tell Trille … sing water … Bring me water.”
Veronica smiled. He hadn’t succeeded in healing himself. Not at all, so far as she could tell. She called to Trille, and when the singer came, Veronica asked, “Is your power back?”
“Yes, but …” Trille held up her badly burned arms. Her face, too, was red and blistered. “I’m in too much pain to sing,” she said.
Veronica placed her hands on the woman’s arms and absorbed her pain. Tears filled her eyes. She gritted her teeth and continued the healing, moving her hands to Trille’s face.
“Let me help,” Winnie said, joining Veronica and placing her hands on Trille.
In moments Trille’s flesh was whole and unblemished. In moments more, the blisters that had raised on Veronica’s and Winnie’s arms and faces also vanished. The successful healing verified the return of their power. But not all the group had had their power restored.
Veronica walked around, checking. Abigail and Leah were still immobile. Winter still could not bend his fingers. Darnell remained in her wolf form though Gorvy urged her to try to change. Gorvy had no way of testing his ability to quench power. The professor confided with some embarrassment that he could not mindspeak and that he had tested his other gift, that of coercion, and found that missing as well. Marchion could not see auras, but his gift of enhancing was back.
While Veronica made her rounds, Winnie again knelt beside Petros and placed her hands on him. As Veronica reached them, Petros awoke and managed to sit upright on his platform. He was able to report that his power, if he had ever lost it, was back. His hearing was as acute as ever, and he was able to transfer his consciousness into Marchion, quickly withdrawing it as soon as he knew the transfer had been successful.
When her inventory was completed, Veronica went to Marta and reported her findings. “I guess you’re in charge now that Aunt Kyla’s dead,” she told Marta, choking a bit as she spoke.
“No, Veronica,” Marta said. “You’re doing fine. And my powers haven’t come back, nor have Ed’s. See what you can do about that.”
Veronica went back to Jerome. “All right, Trille will sing you some water, but you must complete the
restorations. Until then you’ll get no more than a swallow, and you’ll be healed no further.”
“I can’t,” Jerome mumbled. “So dry. No strength.”
He could be faking. “You must do something to show your good faith. Give Winter back his gift and free Abigail and Leah. Then Trille will call water.”
He shook his head, rolling it back and forth in the sand.
“Then, no water,” Veronica stated firmly and turned to walk away.
“Wait,” Jerome said. “I’ll try.”
“I’ll check Winter,” Renni told her and left to do that. After a brief wait she returned. “His hands are back to normal. He’s already trying to find another usable page in the sketchpad.”
“Good,” Veronica said. “But Abigail and Leah still aren’t freed. And Marta needs her power back. And Ed, and Professor Morence.”
“My power’s gone,” Jerome said, the words coming out in a hoarse whisper. “I need water. Please.”
It was that “please” that convinced Veronica that he wasn’t feigning thirst and weakness. Jerome would never say please if he weren’t truly desperate. “All right. I’ll get you some water. But then you must finish giving back all the gifts you took.”
Trille looked at her. “Must I?” she asked. “I can. My power is back. But I don’t want to give him anything.”
Veronica smiled. “It’s all right, Trille. You don’t have to.”
“You lied?” Jerome’s question came out as a high-pitched squeal.
“No,” Veronica answered. “I have water for you. Just a moment.”
She had dropped the pack she’d brought next to Kyla. She went to it, opened it, and removed the canteen of water she’d brought with her, smiling at the thought that she could have given him the water he’d begged for at any time.
She opened the canteen and put it to his lips. He drank greedily. When he finished, she said, “Now. Complete the restoration and I’ll complete the healing.”
Jerome looked up at her, wary, pleading. “Do you give your word?”
“I do. I swear by the Power-Giver.”
He grimaced, whether in pain, in disgust, or in defeat, and said, “I’ll have to accept that or die.”
“That’s right,” Veronica said. “But I will keep my promise.”
She drew Renni away ostensibly to help her survey the group and make certain Jerome kept his word. But when they had gone a considerable distance from Jerome, Veronica whispered, “How far back can you erase memories?”
“I don’t know,” Renni said. “The longest back I’ve ever taken them is three weeks.” She didn’t have to add that those had been Ed’s memories, that she’d deprived him of the memory of the trip to Port-of-Lords, his first sight of the child who’d become his daughter, the excitement of the Naming-Day ceremony, the horror of having his newly named child abducted by his most dangerous enemy.
“We’ll feed you all the power we can. I hope it will be enough. Now let’s see if Jerome has kept his word.”
“It might be easier if he was asleep while I did it,” Renni suggested. “That would give me better access to his memories, even very old ones.”
“Hmm, I wonder … I think I know who might be able to arrange that. Let me see whether Professor Morence has his abilities back. You check with Marta and Ed.” While Renni carried out that assigned task, Veronica headed for the professor.
He smiled as she approached, and his voice in her head said, I believe I can mindspeak again. Let me know if you receive my words.
Perfectly clear, Professor, she sent back. How about your gift of coercion?
I haven’t been able to test that, he sent, his smile turning to a frown.
She stood beside him and spoke softly, judging that oral speech was safer. Jerome might be able to receive the mindspeech. “I have a way for you to test it, but it depends. Can you coerce someone into going to sleep? Jerome is already weak. Could you nudge him into a deep sleep?”
“I’ve never used coercion in that way.” He paused, then added, “But I don’t see why I couldn’t.”
“Good. As soon as we know that everybody’s talents have been restored, I’ll give you a signal—I’ll nod my head twice. We’ll have to hope it works.”
“So you don’t really intend to keep your word to him?” The professor looked relieved.
“I will do as I promised,” Veronica said. “I swore by the Power-Giver. I won’t break that vow.”
“He’ll be a danger to all of us again when he’s healed,” the professor pointed out as if she wouldn’t have understood that. “You’re risking all our lives because of a vow you shouldn’t have made.”
“I know what I’m doing, Professor Morence. Just do your part, please. If all goes well, we’ll be safe.”
“If it goes well,” he responded, his voice laden with skepticism.
“Just do what I’ve asked,” she snapped and walked away from him. He was treating her like a child. She might be young, but she had far more experience with power than he had. She rejoined Renni, who reported that all those she’d checked with had regained their powers. “Good. Let’s try this.”
She and Renni walked back to Jerome. “Well, Mr. Esterville, you’ve carried out your end of the agreement, so I’m ready to carry out mine.”
Abigail marched up to her. “Veronica, don’t you dare heal him,” she said in her stern “teacher voice.” You know perfectly well what a monster he is.”
“Aunt Abigail, I’ve given my word. I even swore by the Power-Giver.”
“The Power-Giver will understand. You cannot, must not heal that fiend. Let him die!” Abigail grabbed Veronica’s arm and tried to pull her away.
Veronica shoved Abigail, breaking her hold.
“You obey me, you little brat,” Abigail shouted, grabbing hold of her again.
Jerome groaned.
Marta ran up to them. “Abigail, let Veronica go. She’s not a child anymore.”
“She’s acting like one,” Abigail declared, tugging at Veronica.
“So are you,” Veronica said.
Winnie placed a hand on Veronica and another on Abigail. Veronica felt her calming influence, but Abigail gave no sign of being affected.
“Do you want to lose Dreama again?” she demanded of Marta. “For good? Talk some sense into the child.”
Leah came up behind Abigail. “Abby,” she said, “calm down. Let Veronica do what she must.”
Releasing Veronica, Abigail whirled to confront Leah. “Are you, even you, taking her part? Do you want to be made into a statue again?”
“No, I don’t. But screaming at Veronica isn’t going to help.” She placed her hands on Abigail’s shoulders. “Come, Abby. Trust the Power-Giver.”
Veronica had never heard Leah speak much of the Power-Giver. She had wondered whether Leah, not being gifted, even believed in him. That doubt vanished.
“Yes, Aunt Abigail, please trust the Power-Giver to take care of us.”
“He hasn’t been doing a very good job of that,” Abigail huffed. But she let Leah guide her away from Veronica.
At last she could finish this.
Isham barreled toward them shouting, “You’re all mad. All you witches! You all deserve to die!”
He must have been too frightened to do more than observe until Abigail’s irrational outburst gave him courage. Clearly his madness had not abated.
Ed, Marchion, and Gorvy rushed to grab and subdue him. He fought wildly. They could hardly hold him. Veronica despaired of ever being able to carry out her plan.
Renni slipped away from Veronica. Moments later Isham fell still and silent. Though conscious, he hung limp in Ed and Gorvy’s arms, while Marchion, wearing a puzzled look, helped to support him. Renni returned to Veronica’s side. Veronica met her gaze and Renni mouthed the name, Winter.
Veronica nodded twice. “Now,” she said to Jerome, “I’ll heal you as I promised.”
He gave a weak sigh, blinked, and his eyelids drifted shut.
“Now,” Veronica whispered to Renni. Then she sent out a general call. Everyone, send power to Renni.
Marta, her gaze sweeping around the entire group, nodded.
Renni’s eyes closed and her brow furrowed in concentration. The entire group fell silent, waiting, though they couldn’t know what was going on. Probably some guessed. Looking around, Veronica saw that Ed stared intently at Renni, no doubt recalling what she’d done to his memories.
Time passed. Dreama began crying. Her cries grew louder, more insistent. How long had it been since she’d been fed? And changed? They had to end this soon. She restrained the urge to beg Renni to hurry.
At last Renni opened her eyes. “It’s done,” she said. “It’s safe to heal him now.”
The healing was the easy part. Though she was exhausted, Veronica retained enough power to complete what she had started earlier. Breathing a word of thanks to the Power-Giver, she set herself to the task, absorbed the pain and weakness, and felt health and strength flow through Jerome’s body.
When she’d finished, she needed Renni’s help to rise to her feet. “Let him wake now,” she said to Professor Morence.
Jerome’s eyes opened. He sat up, looked around. His face registered bewilderment. And fear. “Mama?” he called out in a plaintive, childish voice. “Where’s my mama?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
A MEETING OF THE GIFTED
Once again the entire Community had gathered in the small sitting room of the house that had been Kyla’s and now had passed to Marta and Ed along with the leadership of the Community.
Marta relaxed in a wing chair, Dreama gurgling happily in her arms. Veronica relaxed too, as Ed, having just returned, addressed the gathering.
“I’m pleased to report that Jerome Esterville, whose memories were successfully regressed to the age of three by the very accomplished Renni Natches, has been safely delivered to his mother, the esteemed Mother Esterville. With Mother Esterville’s careful guidance, as his mind catches up to his actual age, his attitudes, goals, and beliefs will be those of a decent person, not a cruel and callous one”
A Mix of Magics (Arucadi: The Beginning Book 3) Page 23