Path of Fate (37 page)

~
She will have it,
Saljane said in her mind, her tone echoing Reisil’s searing fury. ~
We will find it for her.

Reisil realized then that though her
ahalad-kaaslane
had not followed them into the room, she hadn’t left Reisil’s mind since the wizard’s attack. Reisil reached out to Saljane and felt the goshawk’s touch wrapping her like an embrace. She leaned into it, feeling Saljane’s delight at such a welcome.

She stood, touching Kebonsat’s shoulder.

“She needs to bathe, and then I must see what I can do to heal her body.” Kebonsat had already done much to heal his sister’s spirit, and for that Reisil was glad. She did not know if she could have done as much.

Kebonsat lifted Ceriba into the tub, turning his back when Reisil removed her sheet. Ceriba sank down into the water, her exhaustion evident now in her sudden bonelessness, her head tilting sideways to rest against the edge of the tub.

At last she felt safe, Reisil thought. Safe enough to rest, to trust her friends to watch over and care for her. Good. It would make healing easier.

Suddenly she realized that Ceriba’s breath had shallowed. Her breaths came in whimpering pants and her body begain to twitch. Fear rippled through Reisil. Had they rescued Ceriba just to lose her?

She turned to Kebonsat and ordered him to retrieve her pack.

“Don’t come back until I say so,” Reisil told him. He opened his mouth to object and she held up her hand. “It is your sister’s life that hangs in the balance and I tell you now, to interrupt might kill us both. Now go. Time is our enemy.”

Kebonsat made no further attempts to argue, but retreated instantly, closing the door firmly behind him.

Reisil knelt down beside the tub. Every instinct told her Ceriba was mortally wounded. Reisil suspected that sometime in the last day, one of her captors’ heavy kicks or punches had broken a bone and driven it into one of her lungs. They had meant to abuse her and kill her, leaving the evidence on her body to drive her father to revenge, to reignite the war. And they might yet succeed.

Nothing in her pack would aid Ceriba now. Only that limited power the Lady had given her might have an effect. But would it be enough? If Ceriba died, there would be no stopping the war. It would
have
to be enough.

~
Saljane, I need your strength.

Saljane enclosed her in that steel embrace again. Reisil drew her pendant out and clutched it in one hand, placing the other on Ceriba’s forehead.

“Lady, hear me in my need. Give me aid to heal this woman.”

She said no more, but plunged forward with what she could do herself.

With Saljane, she was stronger than she had been and felt great hope as healing magic unfurled into Ceriba. But the damage within was massive. Reisil poured herself and Saljane into mending bone and tissue, with no regard for their safety or survival.

Ceriba’s heart flickered wearily and tried to stop. Reisil rushed there and buttressed it with her magic. But as she did, Ceriba’s lungs fluttered and drained like depleted watersacks. Reisil divided strength and forced them to fill. But there was more, so much more. Kidneys, spleen, and splintered bones; blood seeping and puddling where no blood should be.

Reisil refused to give up and pull back. Saljane was no less determined and Reisil felt the bird giving herself wholly over to her
ahalad-kaaslane
. If Reisil could have cried, she would have. Such trust, such utter and complete devotion. What a gift the Lady had given her!

She seized on Saljane’s strength and threw herself back into the battle with renewed vigor.

The tide began to turn.

She would win, she saw finally. Ceriba would live. She sent a prayer of thanks to the Lady. Ceriba would live.

Even as she rejoiced in that knowledge, Reisil realized that she and Saljane would not survive; they had given too much. Reisil didn’t even consider stopping, didn’t even consider saving herself or Saljane.

She pushed, pouring more and more of herself and Saljane into the healing, until darkness fell—so complete she could not see through it. It soaked into her, like ink into a dry sponge.

Reisil no longer felt Ceriba beneath her hand, nor Saljane in her mind. Sorrow washed over her, to have that connection torn from her.

“You are such a healer then, that you would murder yourself and your
ahalad-kaaslane
to save a single patient?” The Blessed Lady’s voice sounded gravely disappointed, and Reisil knew that as with Upsakes, the Lady had severed her from her
ahalad-kaaslane
. She had proven herself unworthy.

Pain racked her, loss like a driving sword through her heart. Still, Reisil knew she had done right. Even as Upsakes had known? She gave a mental shudder, but did not repent her actions.

“It is true, I am a healer and I would go far to save a patient.” She did not feel her body, did not feel her lips move. Her mind seemed adrift in that smothering darkness, sinking deep into a well of sorrow and despair. But she felt she owed the Lady an explanation of why she’d so recklessly spent Saljane’s life and her own. “But healers know enough to preserve themselves. I have been well taught by Elutark to protect myself so that I may better serve. But I am also
ahalad-kaaslane,
and on Ceriba’s life depends the fate of Kodu Riik. If she dies, there will be no hope for the treaty. You told me yourself that Kodu Riik would not survive without it. If we must die to save Ceriba, to save Kodu Riik, then that is what we will do.”

And suddenly Reisil realized that she was no longer pretending to be
ahalad-kaaslane
. Elutark was right.
You are what you pretend to be.

Maybe she wasn’t always brave, or strong, or capable. But she had finally become
ahalad-kaaslane
. She had told the Blessed Lady no more than the simple truth. She hadn’t even considered not saving Ceriba. The cost to herself or Saljane didn’t matter. Only saving Kodu Riik.

Golden light blossomed in the darkness and she found herself back in the Lady’s glade. She sat on the emerald grass, the silver-dusted pillars glowing gold. The Lady stood opposite, stroking Saljane’s throat.

Tears streamed down Reisil’s cheeks and her lips parted in a silly grin as Saljane raised her wings and sailed down to Reisil. Their minds met, sharing, grasping. The Lady’s lips curved.

“You speak well,” she told Reisil. “I told you that few are capable of receiving both of my gifts—and truly I have not given into your hands their full potential. I needed you to prove your heart first. Come here.”

Reisil stood before the Blessed Lady, her eyes wide as she cradled Saljane in her arms. The Lady laid a hand on Reisil’s head, crystal talons curving over the young
ahalad-kaaslane
’s head, pricking her scalp.

Reisil closed her eyes and magic filled her. Heat and light raveled around and through her like ivy. It sank roots into her flesh, into her bones and blood.

Reisil drew a deep breath and felt tendrils in her nostrils and mouth, in her throat, stomach and lungs. The sensation was not unpleasant.

At last the Lady lifted her hand and Reisil blinked at her.

“I have given you great power—to heal and more. This is a powerful magic I have given you. I trust you to use it wisely—as
ahalad-kaaslane
and tark.

“Heal my land. Heal my children—human and animal. In Kallas, you have not been exposed to the horrors of the war. I believe they twisted Upsakes from his calling. I hope you will be stronger, for there is much to be done. More than you know.”

Reisil opened her mouth, but could not find words. Her heart swelled at the magnitude of the trust the Lady had given her, for she understood that at any time she, like Upsakes, could stray down the gray paths to darkness, and the Lady could not recall her gift of power, though she might take Saljane. She had returned Reisil’s demonstration of faith with a demonstration of her own. Reisil would not break it.

“A warning. I give this gift to you, but it will be no easy burden to bear. And I can give you no more than this. You have shown yourself to have judgment, to be capable of making the right choices for Kodu Riik and
all her people
.”

Reisil heard the odd emphasis on the last three words, but quickly forgot about them as the Lady continued. “When you go forth from here now, you may not come again. Not in your lifetime, as long or as difficult as that may prove to be. You will have to find your own way.”

The Blessed Lady gave Reisil a long, steady look, waiting. Reisil felt herself nodding, though panic flared inside. To be alone, without aid!

“Not alone,” the Lady replied to her thoughts. “You have the
ahalad-kaaslane,
and you will find wisdom and aid in other corners.”

Before she could speak again, say farewell or give thanks, Reisil found herself back in the inn on the floor beside the tub, Saljane still cradled in her arms. She looked at the bird and couldn’t help herself. She laughed, a merry, ringing sound. She looked at Ceriba.

In the light of the setting sun through the window, she saw that the girl slept. The bruises had gone from her face; her broken bones were once again whole. Reisil touched the water. It was cold. Without thought she called for heat and it warmed beneath her hand. She laughed again and hugged Saljane.

A knock sounded at the door and Kebonsat spoke through it.

“Reisil, are you well? May we enter?”

Reisil lifted Saljane to her shoulder and went to the door.

Kebonsat, Sodur, Edelsat and Juhrnus waited outside. They’d pulled a table and chairs close and had eaten. At the sight of the empty dishes, Reisil heard her stomach growl.

“Your face!” Juhrnus exclaimed.

Reisil frowned, touching her face with her fingers.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Blessed Lady,” Sodur breathed, stepping forward peer closely at her scars.

“What?”

Sodur shook his head and grabbed a metal platter from the table. He overturned it and held it up for Reisil to look at herself. Her jaw dropped. Where the livid scars had been, now there were veins of golden ivy, leaves unfurling along her jaw to disappear beneath her collar. Reisil touched them with awe.

“My sister?” Kebonsat asked fearfully.

“Turning into a prune. We must get her out of the tub and into bed,” Reisil said.

“She will be well?”

“Thank the Blessed Lady, her wounds are healed. Though her mind will take some time to recover—you have already done much to aid her there.”

Ceriba woke enough to stand and be guided to the bed. Reisil managed to get her to drink a cup of broth before she fell into a deep sleep. Kebonsat made a pallet on the floor by her bed, determined to be there if she woke with nightmares.

Reisil did not tell him that she doubted Ceriba would have nightmares. She believed the Lady had granted Ceriba a night of reprieve, of true rest. But she knew Kebonsat would not be torn from his sister’s side. He needed the assurance of being with her as much as she would need him in the days to come.

She left the siblings alone and went to eat and wash and then find a bed, feeling a shaking exhaustion running through her muscles. During her meal, Juhrnus eyed her every move with awe, particularly unsettling from him, while Sodur merely smiled and patted her shoulder, and then proceeded to vie with Edelsat in entertaining her dinner with tall tales.

Saljane perched on the back of chair, grooming herself, and Reisil found herself laughing easily, enjoying the banter, her mind twining like ivy with Saljane’s.

C
eriba slept late the next morning, and Reisil found herself drawn to the macabre business of disposing of the wizard’s body. Her breakfast sat like a stone in her stomach as she sat well back, watching the proceedings.

Sodur looked down at the dead wizard lying on the dirt, where they had dropped his body to rest after carrying him down the stairs. Sodur’s knife still protruded from the man’s left eye socket.

“I’m going to need a new knife. I like the look of that one there,” he said.

“Bad throw, if you wanted them all alive,” Edelsat observed, coming to stand beside him. He kicked the hand that the wizard had held up before him. Even in death the wizard held it tightly fisted. A round bead the color of a rotten apricot rolled out of it. The wizard’s focus. Sodur hesitated a moment and then crushed it under his boot.

“Only good wizard is a dead wizard,” he said.

“That is a truth well-spoken,” Edelsat agreed.

Sodur raised his eyebrows. “I wouldn’t have expected that from one of your country.”

Edelsat bent and grabbed the dead wizard by the heels. “Many of us find wizardry not to our liking. This only proves why. They heed only the laws that suit them and damn the rest of us. They claim to serve—giving Patverseme great victories in war. But their true ambition is domination—Patverseme, Kodu Riik, Scallas, the world. The Guild’s its own country. And who’s going to make them do anything but what they damned well please? Mysane Kosk turned many stomachs here. But we got the point. We knew the Guild wouldn’t hesitate to come after us.

“That was before Vasalis took the throne. His uncle was weak and greedy. The Guild bought his soul with their promises. But Vasalis isn’t the kind to sit on his hands while his country is stolen out from under him. Hence the treaty: no war, no need for the Guild. I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what this kidnapping is about. A way to keep the war going and disgrace Vasalis at the same time. What would the popular Dure Vadonis do, I wonder, if his cousin, the Karalis, refused to avenge his daughter and family honor?”

Sodur took the dead wizard’s shoulders and helped Edelsat toss him into the back of a wagon. Edelsat’s men had built a pyre outside the gates to burn the body, but had been too uneasy to handle the body.