Teleporter (a Hyllis family story #2) (8 page)

Jason danced away from the point, saying, “Better.” Immediately Jason feinted a blow to knock Tarc’s tip aside.

When Tarc moved to resist the strike that didn’t come, Tarc’s point swung to the side.

Jason stepped past it to smack Tarc on the shoulder.

The blow really hurt. Tarc struggled to hold onto his sword with suddenly nerveless fingers and to keep the tears from welling up in his eyes.

The other two men had stopped their practice and come over to watch. One of them said, “Come on Jason. He’s just a kid.”

Jason glanced over his shoulder at them, “Oh, my mistake! I didn’t realize he was so young he couldn’t die out there on the road.”

A voice came from behind Tarc, “Well, he isn’t going to learn to stay alive if you beat him so badly he’s afraid to even try!”

Tarc whirled. It was Lizeth! Arco stood behind her, a grin on his face. He said, “Now, now Lizeth. Seems to me I remember you beating this selfsame boy in this
very
stable.”

She turned to Arco and grinned, “Yeah, but that was because he disrespected my womanhood. I felt compelled to prove to him that a woman was capable of guarding the caravan.” She turned back to Tarc, “Why are you out here practicing with Jason.” She raised an eyebrow at Jason, “He’s mean… just on principle.”

Trying not to sound surly, Tarc said, “He said I needed to learn how to fight with a sword, in case my family joins the caravan.”

Lizeth raised her eyebrows, “You guys might join?”

Tarc shrugged, “Yeah, we want to leave this place.”

She raised a single eyebrow and said, “I can see why. The people in this town don’t seem to like you guys very much. What did you do?”

Tarc’s eyes flashed with anger, but then he calmed. “We didn’t do anything! Some ex-soldiers invaded our town,” he paused trying to think about how to explain it.

Lizeth dryly said, “Yeah, I heard about that.”

“They stayed in our tavern. A rumor spread… a rumor that we were collaborating with them. We didn’t have a choice! They were
animals
.”

Jason said, “There’s
always
a choice.”

Tarc turned to look at him sullenly, “Yeah, cooperate or
die!
” He wanted desperately to tell the caravan guards that the Hyllises
hadn’t
cooperated. He wanted to tell them, especially Lizeth, that he and his father had been the ones who’d actually killed Krait. Telling them, however, would not only break his family’s trust, but it would make him a laughingstock.

Lizeth sighed, sounding unhappy. “Well, you do have more choices if you know how to defend yourself. Jason’s right about that. He’s a terrible teacher though.” She glared at Jason, “He thinks that if he beats you badly enough, often enough, that somehow
that’ll
teach you how to fight.” She turned back to Tarc, “If you’d like some pointers, I’d be happy to teach you after tomorrow’s market. I’ll actually
teach
you, rather than just beat you.”

Tarc, excited by any opportunity to spend time with Lizeth, said, “I’d appreciate that.”

As if he could read the thoughts rattling through Tarc’s brain, Jason said, “Yeah, I’ll just
bet
you would.”

***

That evening, when the dinner rush had slowed, the tub rush started. Even more of the caravaners wanted to soak in the tubs of hot water after hearing their friends brag about it. Tarc carried buckets ‘til he thought they were going to pull his arms off. Since the fire in the big room was heating the water, he had to keep it built-up as well. When she’d finished clearing the tables and helping Eva wash the dishes, Daussie helped feed the fire and even hauled a few straps of wood.

On one of Tarc’s trips inside, he saw Mr. Watson and Mr. Norton standing at the end of the bar talking to Daum. He wondered whether they would be able to work anything out regarding a trade.

Tarc was in the tub room, filling a bucket with steaming hot water from the spigot on the back of the big fireplace when he heard Jason’s voice. “Looky here, it’s our sword fighter from the stable.”

Tarc turned. It looked like a group of the guards had gotten together to buy some time in the big communal tub. Jason was grinning at him with an “oh so superior” look on his face. Tarc was about to bark something angry at him when he realized that Lizeth was sitting on the other side of the tub. Her smile appeared lazily happy. She said, “These tubs are really great! We guards didn’t get to stay at the tavern the other times I came through this town with the caravan. I didn’t even know the tubs were here or I’d have been over here every night!”

Tarc ignored Jason and turned to her, “They
are
pretty great. If my family joins the caravan, they’re one thing I’ll really miss.” He shut off the spigot and picked up the full bucket of hot water. “You want me to pour some in? Or just set it here on the side so you can pour it in when your water’s starting to get cool?” He set the bucket on the post at the corner of the tub while he waited for their answer. His eyes glanced around at everyone in the tub so that he would be able to rest them briefly on Lizeth without appearing to be staring at her alone. His heart skipped a beat when he thought she was nude. Then he realized that although her shoulders and the upper portions of her breasts were uncovered she had some kind of garment on under the water.

“Pour some in,” Lizeth said, her command giving him an opportunity to glance at her one more time.

He picked up the bucket and leaned it over the edge between two of the men. “You guys might want to lean away, this water’s pretty hot.”

The people in the tub crowded away from where Tarc was about to pour the water in and he tipped the bucket, letting the water run in. The overflow pipe on the other side of the tub started to run, carrying the water out to the gutters on the street.

One of the men right next to where Tarc was pouring the water in exclaimed, “Holy crap that’s really hot.” He and the man on the other side of the pour began to vigorously swirl the water around in order to move the really hot water further away.

As the heat reached her, Lizeth sighed and said, “Oh man, this feels so great!”

She stretched like a big cat, drawing Tarc’s eyes like a magnet. He snapped them quickly away, embarrassed. The bucket was empty, and had been for a few seconds. Blushing, he turned and refilled it before leaving.

It was quite late that night when Tarc went up to go to bed. As he lay down, his senses stretched out, feeling the warm spots belonging to the people renting rooms. He could sense a few of the caravaners in or under the wagons that were parked nearby. Suddenly he realized there was someone creeping up onto the porch.
The vandals!
He jolted up, thinking of running down the stairs and slamming open the door to see who it was and frighten them away. He grabbed for his clothes, but then had another idea. He reached out with his talent and grabbed a little bit of air right above the person’s head. Whoever it was, they were just starting to squat. Vibrating the air, he made it say, “Hey! If you crap there, your balls will shrivel up and disappear.”

To Tarc’s senses, the person shot back to his feet. The guy just stood there, probably looking for whoever had spoken to him. Grinning to himself, Tarc reached out, found the man’s crotch, and poked his testicles from behind. He couldn’t poke very hard from so far away; nonetheless, Tarc imagined he could hear a stifled shriek of terror as the man’s muscles seized into rigidity. Then the guy practically leapt into the air, jerking up his pants and running off down the street.

Tarc briefly found it hard to get to sleep as he worried about whether what he’d just done to the vandal might give away his family’s talents. He was too tired for his insomnia to last very long though.

The first thing Daum did when he got up in the morning was to check outside for any more vandalism. Relieved when he didn’t find any, he wondered whether he and his family could stay in this town. He’d seen angry attitudes like the Hyllises were enduring at present gradually fade with time.
Apprehensive that joining the caravan might have its own set of problems, he wondered if they couldn’t just wait it out.
We might be running from poverty into the killing field.

He kept thinking about it as he worked. Eventually he decided that, even years from now, some people would still be looking at Daum and his family with resentment and disrespect. He shook his head,
No, we don’t want to live here.

Daussie was washing dishes when Eva left the kitchen to go out into the big room. She poked her head back in and said, “Daussie, leave the dishes for a bit. Things have slowed down enough for us to have a family meeting.”

They all sat at the table where Eva usually did her treatments. Daum said, “The Watsons have offered almost as much as we hoped for. It isn’t what we think the tavern is worth and we certainly wouldn’t have taken a deal like this before the town…” he grimaced, “you know, started acting the way they have been.”

Everyone nodded.

“Part of their payment for the tavern is the trade of their wagon and its trailer, their mules and their horses. They still don’t have enough cash to pay the difference and so they’ll have to owe us some money. Of course that’s worrisome, something might happen to them or they may eventually just refuse to pay. But I feel like they’re pretty trustworthy.” He looked at Daussie and Tarc, “Your mother and I think we should go ahead with this deal, but wanted to talk it over with you. You’re nearly adults now and obviously this has a huge effect on your lives as well.”

Tarc merely nodded.

Daussie said, “I
really
want to leave this town. I
hate
them for the way they’ve treated us.”

Eva said, “We can’t take everything we own here in the tavern with us in that wagon. Some things
have
to come with us, like our medical supplies, some cooking equipment, and your dad’s still.” She looked back and forth from Daussie to Tarc, “While it’s slow this morning, get up to your rooms and figure out the absolute minimum of your stuff that you have to take with you. Make a pile. Then, Daussie, I need you to help me figure out which medical and kitchen supplies we need to take. Tarc, you need to go through the stable, collecting everything we need to care for the horses we’re going to own now. Once you figure that out, help your dad work on breaking down the still.”

As they were getting up from the table, the big door at the front of the tavern opened. They all turned to look at it apprehensively because the caravaners always came in the back door from the courtyard. A woman stepped inside.

It was Mrs. Gates!

Eva said, “Hello, Mrs. Gates.”

Gates turned and headed for the treatment table. Daussie noticed that she seemed significantly healthier than the last time Daussie had seen her. Gates said, “I’ve come in for some more of your fake treatments. I’m feeling better. I suspect that it’s just because my body’s getting better on its own.” She shrugged, “However, just in case it’s because of something you’ve been doing, I decided I’d better come get some more treatments.”

Eva rolled her eyes and said, “Well, we’re always delighted to have someone as pleasant as you visit our treatment table.”

Gates gave a sly grin, “Yeah, there’s hardly
anyone
in this town who doesn’t look forward to a visit from
me
.” She sat on the end of the table, scooted backwards up onto it, then laid down.

Daum had turned and headed out to his brewing room. Daussie migrated back towards the treatment table and the old woman, wanting to examine her first patient with her new talent. Well, other than diagnosing Mr. Farley’s stroke. Eva motioned Daussie and Tarc to follow her towards the kitchen. Resentment welled up inside of Daussie at the thought she was going to be cut out again.

They stepped into the kitchen. Daussie said angrily, “I thought Mrs. Gates had cancer?”

“Yes she does,” Eva said eyeing Daussie thoughtfully. “And she will be a very good patient for you to study with your new ability. I want you to go back out there and examine her while Tarc and I get her treatment ready.”

Daussie frowned, “But there’s
no
treatment for cancer! All you can do is give her something for the pain, and
I
can help you get that ready.” She glanced resentfully at Tarc, “Having Tarc
push
on something isn’t going to help a cancer and he doesn’t even
want
to be a healer. Why is
he
going to be doing the treatment?”

Eva’s eyes dropped to the floor as she developed a very sad expression and chewed her lip for a moment. Looking back up at Daussie, she said, “Because, Dauss, Tarc actually
can
do something for cancer.” Eva blinked back some tears and said in a raspy voice, “I don’t want to explain it to you right now, but I will later. For now, will you go examine Mrs. Gates? She really is an excellent patient for you to try to use your talent on.”

Tarc can
treat
cancer?!
Daussie felt like she was almost reeling as she stepped into the big room and walked over to where Gates was still lying on the table.
How?!
Daussie felt a pain starting to close her throat and a welling in her eyes. She turned her thoughts away from Tarc’s talents. “Hi Mrs. Gates. My Mom wants me to examine you while they’re getting the treatment ready.”

Gates snorted, “Sure, like
you
can tell anything. That’s almost as stupid as these treatments they’re giving me. But, go ahead, sit down.
Pretend
you’re checking out my cancer.” Her gaze resignedly went back to the ceiling.

Daussie took a deep breath. At least Gates’ acid personality had taken Daussie’s mind off of how sad she was that she lacked serious talent and moved it to thinking about how irascible this lady was. Daussie sat on the bench next to the table, placed her hands on Gates’ abdomen and sent her ghost sense into the woman’s body. She’d been surreptitiously looking into the insides of people over the past couple of days when she’d been standing next to them with nothing else to do. Once again she was surprised at how similar people were inside. She’d started in Gates’ head where everything seemed normal.
Wait a minute! There’s something here in the back of her brain!
Daussie focused her ghost on it. It didn’t have the soft nature of the rest of the brain, seeming much firmer, like a ligament, or a tendon, or… a scar!

Wonderingly, Daussie sent her ghost down out of the head through the neck. There were spots in the marrow of her vertebra! The tissue there was soft and disorganized. It seemed to be destroying the bone around it.
Cancer,
Daussie thought. In the lungs, Daussie found more scars. And again in the liver she found the same thing.

Daussie found cancer again in the woman’s lower spine, in a kidney and in her upper thigh bone. She started to get up.

Gates said demandingly, “Well? What did you find with this examination of yours?”

“Um,” Daussie considered saying that she had to go talk to her mother first. Then she decided she should tell Gates the truth. The obnoxious woman wanted it, after all. “Uh, I found some cancer in your spine and your kidney and your hip. It seems like… like there are… scars in your lungs and your liver and your brain where you might have had cancer before. I need to ask my mother where it was that you had the cancer and where they’ve been treating you.”

Gates turned disbelieving eyes on Daussie. “Sure, like I believe
that
.” She waved a hand, “Go on back and talk to your mommy, girl.” Her eyes turned resignedly back up to the ceiling.

Daussie got up and went back to the kitchen.
Were those really scars? Did they used to be cancers that Tarc actually has treated?
She felt like her head was spinning with the possibilities.

Out in the kitchen, Daussie found Tarc and Eva having a heated discussion. They both looked up at her when she entered and immediately stopped talking as if they felt guilty or something. “What’s going on?” Daussie asked.

Eva said, “What did you find?”

Annoyed that Eva had ignored her question and instead posed her own, nonetheless Daussie answered. She described the places she thought she had found cancer and the spots of dense tissue where she thought there
might
have been cancer in the past.

Tarc had a beaker with some moist cotton balls. He shouldered past Daussie and into the big room as if he were trying to distance himself from whatever argument Eva and Daussie were about to have. Daussie smelled moonshine when he passed. Eva called out, “Tarc, come back. We need to talk about…” Eva glanced at Daussie, then shrugged and turned back to Tarc as he reentered the kitchen. Focusing on Tarc, Eva said, “You need to work on as many of Mrs. Gates tumors as you can. With us leaving town it’ll be her last treatment.”

Tarc nodded and went back into the big room again.

Daussie fixed Eva with an eye and said, “Are those scars really places where Tarc has treated her before?

Eva nodded.

“
How
is he killing her cancers? I thought even the ancients couldn’t do that?”

Eva grimaced and said, “The ancients could kill cancer by cutting it out with surgery or with radiation. With both of those treatments they often damaged the patient as well, especially with radiation. It was hard for them to tell exactly
where
inside the patient the cancer was, so they aimed the radiation to try to have its maximum effect right in the cancer, but it often killed a lot of healthy tissue around it and made the patient pretty sick.”

“What is Tarc doing?”

“The best I understand it is that he makes the molecules in the cancer tissue move faster, or in other words, he makes the tissue hotter. He heats it just enough to kill the cancer without doing much damage to the tissue around it. Because he’s using his ghost sense to feel the cancer he knows exactly where it is and what to heat.”

Daussie drew back as the implications of what Eva had just said became apparent. She had more questions, but just then Mrs. Gates voice came from the next room, “Eva, are you going to get out here and tell this young fool where to do the treatments, are you just gonna let him guess?”

Eva snorted and rolled her eyes at Daussie, then stepped past her, out into the big room.

Daussie heard Eva say, “Roll over on your stomach, we’re going to treat your spine and your kidney.”

“On my stomach! I won’t be able to breathe!”

“You’ll be able to breathe fine,” Eva said impatiently. She snorted, “A hell of a lot better than you’ll be able to breathe if this cancer kills you.”

Daussie heard some thumping, presumably the older woman turning over. Then her voice said, “And what’s this about you leaving town? Are you turning tail and running just because a bunch of snake headed gossips are saying mean things about you?”

Eva sounded morose, “I guess we are…”

Daussie went on across the kitchen and out the back door so she didn’t have to hear any more. She went through the courtyard, in the back door to the big room and up the stairs to try to decide which of her things she could bear to leave behind. As she worked, she found herself pondering Tarc’s ability to heat things. What other things might he be able to treat with heat, other than cancers?

***

At noon the Watsons returned from the market and began unloading their wagon. They had taken over one of the rooms upstairs. They created a great pile of their personal possessions in that room. Other piles began to appear in the kitchen, the great room, the tub room, and the stable.

Tarc and Daum went by their wagon while they were unloading it. Tarc felt astonished to see just how much they were removing from it. Looking in he saw a series of chambers were built into the wagon box. Most could only be accessed through the floorboards of the area under the canopy where they slept when it was raining.

Watson said, “We keep our valuables underneath the floor here where a thief would have to wake us up to get to it. Even though we lock up the little trailer that we tow behind the wagon, we don’t think it’s as safe.”

Daum said, “I’m planning to distill some moonshine in the evenings while we’re traveling. Would you come look at the small kettle and condenser I’m trying to take with us? I’m hoping you’ll have some ideas on where we should put it in the wagon.”

Tarc found the amount of planning it took to pack their stuff into the wagon, especially to place it where they could get it out when they needed it, quite daunting. Just figuring out how to pack his own things into his small section gave him quite the headache.

He and his father had just finished re-bending the copper tubing for the still so that it would fit into the slot they’d picked for it, when he heard Lizeth’s voice behind them. “Hello Mr. Hyllis, I’m Lizeth, one of the guards. Arco, our Lieutenant, asked me to talk to you about caravan defense now that you’ve decided to join us.”