The Shifter (10 page)

She smiled a little, and tears slid from the corners of her eyes. “Nya. Go.”

“I am
not
leaving you here. I’m going to get you out of here and out of pain.” Even if I didn’t like what I’d have to do to keep that promise.

The door opened. Two people stood silhouetted in the light. I tensed like a clock spring.

“What are you doing here?” a girl asked.

Lanelle and her boy. I couldn’t help but wonder what color their hair was.

I tucked Tali’s blanket under her chin, stroked her cheek once more. “Easy now, go back to sleep,” I said, loud enough for Lanelle and the guard to hear. “It’s easier when you sleep.” To Tali, I whispered, “Hold on a little longer.”

“You shouldn’t be here.” Lanelle stalked toward me, but she looked more scared than authoritative. She twisted the ends of her braids nervously. Brown hair, but dark. Nothing marked her as either Gevegian or Baseeri.

“I’m relieving you for dinner break,” I said, as if she should have known this.

She gaped, worked her open mouth a moment, then snapped it shut. “But that’s not for an hour.”

I shrugged. “I came early. Didn’t want to be hanging around in the ward in case they chose
me
for some priority healing, you know?”

Even in the dim light, I could see her pale two shades. “I know. Okay. I’ll be back soon.”

“Take your time. Not like they’re going anywhere.”

She glanced at the guard waiting by the open door. Light kept him in silhouette, masking his face and features. “Thanks,” she said. “I owe you.”

Yes, you do.

And I knew how to collect that debt. The only question was when.

When Lanelle returned from dinner, I told her I’d be back to relieve her at breakfast, right after the rounds bell. She thanked me again and didn’t even look up as I left. The door guard winked at me. Gevegian for sure. He was even cute, with wavy blond hair and big brown eyes, but inside he was ugly as a half-eaten rat. Traitor.

“You have a good night.”

Though it would have ruined everything, I wished I could grab a chair, or even a bedpan, and whack him a good one. Maybe being with Lanelle was punishment enough. Leaving Tali with those two twisted my guts into knots, but I needed pynvium and help to get her out of there, and I had only until morning to find both.

Sneaking out was a lot easier than sneaking in. With everyone at dinner, only the guards and a few cleaning staff wandered the halls. Most of the apprentices were locked away upstairs, so the dorm halls were mentor-free. I retrieved Aylin’s dress without anyone knowing I was there, tucking it under my arm like a wrap in case the night grew cool. The hall guard gave me that same knowing smile as I left, and warned me not to stay out too late.

I went to Aylin’s first, the last of the sun’s light slipping below the horizon before I got there. Work was done for most folks in Geveg, but my day wasn’t over yet. Seemed like weeks had passed since I’d woken up at Danello’s, though that had been only this morning. I wouldn’t be getting much sleep tonight.

“It was awful!” I collapsed in Aylin’s arms and hugged her as tight as I’d wanted to hug Tali. “There are so many of them, and they’re all in such pain, but that’s not even the worst part. The Luminary is only hurting apprentices from Geveg.”

She swore one even
I
hadn’t heard before. “Someone needs to feed him to a crocodile. Did you find Tali?”

I nodded, though I couldn’t bear to describe how she looked. “She’s bad, real bad. I need pynvium or I can’t get her out.”

Aylin paled. “How are you going to find any?”

“I’ll buy it.”

“Nya! You don’t have that kind of money.”

“I know.” My guts said I wouldn’t be buying it with money anyway.
Oh, I’m certain you will, my dear. Not a doubt in my mind.
He’d drawn me in like a fish, tricked me into doing exactly what he’d needed. And all for profit. “But I have to try.”

“I have a little saved up—I could—”

“No, Aylin, you’ve done so much already. I’ll be okay. You have to trust me on this.”

She hesitated, then nodded. “What are you going to do?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

She frowned but didn’t push it. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Your friend at the League. Can I meet him tonight? I’ll need his help in the morning.” And maybe a stretcher, but I’d seen one in the corner not far from Tali’s bed.

“I’ll try. He works sunrise to sunset, so he’s probably off now. I should be able to convince him to talk to you.”

“I’ll meet you at Tannif’s in three hours.”

“Three hours. Right.” She hugged me again, and I sniffled.

I changed out of Tali’s uniform and back into my own clothes, then left Aylin’s small yet comfortable room, a hollow gnawing in my guts that wasn’t from hunger.

I headed for Zertanik’s. The rain had stopped, and the damp streets shimmered orange in the setting sun. In the darker corners, the stones seemed to bleed. Zertanik didn’t care about the apprentices, but he did care about how much money I could make him. That had to buy me something.

His imposing wall and fruit trees appeared ahead, and my courage slipped. Would Tali really want me to do this? Trade her pain for someone else’s?

“Nya?” A small voice came from the shadows ahead.

“Halima?”

She stepped out and ran to me, throwing her tiny arms around my waist. “I found you! I found you!”

“What’s wrong? Is it Danello? The twins?”

“All of them.” She looked up at me with those giant brown eyes, red around the rims. “Come quick, Nya. You have to come quick.”

I glanced at Zertanik’s shop and the League’s brightly lit dome rising above its roof in the distance. I was running out of time, and who knew how long it would take me to get enough pynvium to save Tali? “I can’t right now—my sister really needs my help.”

“So do my brothers.” She sniffled and grabbed my shirt, pulling me closer. “I think they’re dying, Nya, and I don’t know what to do.”

TEN

N
o! It couldn’t be true. Curling into a ball and crying ’til dawn wouldn’t help me, but it sure sounded like a good idea. “Halima, they can’t be dying. The twins barely took any pain.” But Danello had. A lot of it.

“They hurt. Danello won’t wake up unless you shake him really hard.”

“Where’s your da?”

“Working double shifts so we can get them healed at the League.”

I winced. Without pynvium, those extra shifts wouldn’t help. “Halima, I can’t right now.”

“You have to! You put it there. You can take it out.”

I glanced at the clock tower in the market square, the face still visible in the setting sun. I had to meet Aylin and her friend at the coffeehouse in a few hours. Danello’s house was a fifteen-minute walk from here, back toward Tannif’s. Tannif’s was half an hour from there. Not enough time to check on them, unless I stopped on the way back.

I dropped to one knee and placed a hand on each of her shoulders. “Halima, I need you to wait right here until I’m done.”

“They need you now.”

“I know, but so does my sister, and I can’t help both at once. I
have
to talk to someone here first, then we’ll go straight to your brothers.”

I never should have shifted their da’s pain. Was this really better than being pegged out and on the street? What if she lost her brothers? Who would take care of her while her da was working?

I hugged her. “I’ll be right back, I promise.”

“Okay.” She sat on the first step of the shop next door, arms wrapped around her small knees. We’d had a puppy once that used to wait on the front steps for us to come home from school. He had that same look in his eyes every morning when we left.

I walked into Zertanik’s shop, one of the few places still open that didn’t serve food or drink. A well-aged blond woman looked up from behind the counter. Another traitor. She smiled a shopkeep’s grin, fake as the jeweled trinkets the merchants sold in the summer.

“Can I help you?”

“I need to speak with Zertanik.”

“I’m sorry, he’s unavailable. Is there anything I can do?”

“Tell him Merlaina’s here.”

Her smile vanished, and she jumped up like her seat was on fire. “Wait here.”

I did, my stomach sour, my mood more so. Tali’s face flashed through my mind, but Danello’s sweet smile floated in as well.

The woman returned. “This way, please.”

I went into the same opulent room, this time lit by blue and yellow glass lamps flickering in the corners. Zertanik sat in his chair, smug as sin.

“How lovely to see you again, dear. The braids look quite fetching on you.”

“I need pynvium.” I also needed to smash all four of those pretty lamps over his head, but that would have to wait.

He grinned, but I couldn’t tell what was behind it this time. “Pynvium is rare now, dear. How much are you willing to pay for it?”

“I have nine oppas.” Plus the three deni Danello paid me, but here all that would get me was a laugh.

He laughed anyway and I squirmed; a lizard under his paw. “I could get nine
hundred
for what I have left. Probably more.”

Not that he’d sell it. It was more valuable as a carrot. “Who do I have to heal?”

“Does it matter?”

It didn’t. I wasn’t a real healer, but I was good enough for the pain merchants. Good enough to save Tali. That was the only thing that
did
matter. “How much pynvium do you have?”

His eyebrows shot up. “My my, now who’s the greedy one?”

“How much can it hold?”

“
They
, dear, and not much. The pynvium’s not pure. It’s not even molded, useless for sale. Nothing but a box of chunks left over from the forge.”

“How much?”

“A small injury each, I’d say. You’d need two for a broken bone, maybe four for a crushed organ.”

Four broken bones, two crushed organs, and a bleed for Tali. Three ribs for the twins. One leg and an arm for Danello. Multiple cuts and bruises for all of them. Thirty at least. Thirty-five to be safe. Tali might have other injuries I couldn’t see, like how I couldn’t see the bleeds before the Heal Master showed me how to find them.

And the fisherman?

I couldn’t think about him right now. “I get the pynvium equivalent of what I heal. I want three dozen pieces total.”

He barked a laugh. “Three dozen? Dear, I don’t know if there’s that much in the entire scrap box.”

“Check. I’ll wait.” But not for long. I had to get to Danello’s while I still could.

Zertanik lifted a bell on the table beside him and clanged once. A door opened and a small man scurried in.

“Sir?”

“Count the pynvium scraps and bring me the total, please.”

“Yes, sir.”

Zertanik stared at me, his fingers drumming slowly on the padded arm of his chair. “And what could you possibly want with all that pynvium? More than I expected you’d ask for.”

“More than my sister needs, you mean?”

He chuckled. “Such a smart girl. You should come work for me. I can always use smart people.”

“I think I’m being used enough.”

“Temper, temper. This is business, dear, and negotiations are always challenging.”

“I don’t like your business.”

“Such a shame. You’re uniquely suited to it.”

The servant reappeared. “Sir. I counted thirty-three pieces, sir.”

Close enough.

“Will that suffice?” Zertanik waved the servant away.

“I’ll need it all tonight. Line up your vultures and I’ll be back in—” I totaled the runs between Danello’s, Tannif’s, and here, leaving enough time to work out a plan for tomorrow—Saints, it would be after midnight before I returned. Would people be willing to come here in the middle of the night? “Three hours to do the heals.”

“Done.” He stood and offered his hand. I shook it, wiping it on my pants afterward. He grinned at that and gestured toward the door. “Think about my offer, dear. I could make you rich.”

He probably could. After all, he’d already made me a monster.

Halima and I hurried through the silvery darkness to her brothers, our way lit by the moon above and corner streetlamps bathing the evening-shift soldiers in yellow light. To keep my mind away from the big things, I focused on the little ones: Halima’s scuffed shoes, shop-door jingles as the last of the shopkeeps locked up and went home for the night, muddy flower beds. Brighter yellow lamps glowed in the League’s dome, a lighthouse for the lost and hurting. A prison for the forgotten.

Little things weren’t working.

“Halima, when did they start getting bad?”

“This afternoon. Jovan and Bahari were sick at school so they sent us home.”

Less than a day. Maybe this was how their bodies adjusted to the pain. Maybe it was all perfectly normal. Maybe they’d be better by morning. Too many maybes. I was starting to sound like Aylin.

We hurried up the stairs and inside. The twins sprawled on their bed, faces pale, eyes wet. Jovan offered a faint grin as I approached. Bahari wouldn’t look at me.

“How are you two doing?” I put a hand on Jovan’s head. Cool and damp.

“Don’t feel good,” he muttered.

He didn’t to me either. The rib pain bubbled inside him, but I sensed others things that shouldn’t have been there. His blood felt wrong, but not like a bleed or a crushed organ. It felt…almost thick. His heart beat too fast, his breathing was ragged.

Bahari fared no better. In this, they were also identical.

If they were a few years older, they’d be able to handle the pain better, but their talents hadn’t developed enough to help them yet.

I turned to Halima. “Where’s Danello?”

She took me to him, and I bit my lip to hold back the gasp. Danello lay still as death on the bed, his skin beyond pale. His fingers twitched in time with his panting. I’d swear he’d lost weight. My heartbeat skipped, and I rushed to his side.

“Danello?” I brushed damp hair off his forehead and felt my way in. Same thickness in his blood, and his liver seemed wrong. So did his stomach, with dark blotches almost like bleeds splattering it.

Halima tugged on my sleeve. “Is he gonna die?”

I didn’t want to say yes, but I couldn’t say no. “I hope not.”

“Take it back.”

“I can’t, not yet. Tomorrow, early.” Saints willing. I’d done this to him. To them.
Please, Saint Saea, give me time to fix this
.

She sniffled. “Promise?”

“I promise.” If I wasn’t arrested, or killed, or locked away in a high room with too many beds and not enough conscience.

I gave Danello’s hand a gentle squeeze and ran down the stairs and back into the street. Even the big things couldn’t distract me from my guilt—the families huddled in doorways, folks with stretchers heading for the cemetery, the hungry eyes watching me, noting my League braids—none of it blocked out the horrifying truth.

Oh, no. Shifted pain must kill if it doesn’t get healed right away. Even worse—it killed them fast. And I’d just agreed to do it for thirty-three pieces of pynvium.

I stumbled, catching myself on a fence. Or had I already fallen? How many would Zertanik bring me tonight? How many lives was I willing to trade for Tali and Danello? For Jovan and Bahari?

I glanced toward the Sanctuary, though I couldn’t see it in the darkness.
Saint Saea, I don’t have the right to choose. Please tell me what to do
.

She didn’t answer. I hadn’t expected her to, but it would have been helpful.

Mama had told me never to shift again. I’d thought she just didn’t want me to get caught by the trackers, but was there more to it? Had she known it would kill? Had any Healer known?

I pushed off the fence before soldiers grew wary enough to question me and continued to Tannif’s, searching my memories for Grannyma’s advice. One kept jumping out.
She who has a choice has trouble
.

An aromatic cloud of roasting coffee wafted over me, and a second bit of wisdom echoed in my ears.
Don’t fear what you can’t change
. But I could change this one. I could tell Zertanik no. Tell him shifted pain killed. I didn’t know why it thickened the blood and organs, but it did, and they had to believe me. None of the folks who accepted their loved one’s pain were likely to survive until more pynvium arrived.

If I said all that, five people died, one I loved, and the others—my stomach went tight just thinking about losing them, even though I hardly knew them.

I shoved the thought away as I pushed into Tannif’s. Few people were there this late. Aylin was sitting in the back, across from a blond boy with broad shoulders. She looked up as I hurried over, but he didn’t turn around.

“Thank you so much for meeting with me—” I gushed, then dammed my gratitude quick. “You’re Lanelle’s boy!”

He gaped at me. “Do I know you?”

I stabbed a finger at him. “
This
is the boy who told you he
thought
apprentices were being carried upstairs?”

“Wait a minute—”

“Yes, this is Kione. Nya, why are you yelling at him?” Aylin glanced around and smiled nervously. “People are staring.”

I plopped on the bench beside Aylin and lowered my voice to what I hoped was a threatening growl. “This
friend
of yours lied to you. He was standing guard outside the room they’re holding Tali in.”

“Kione? Is that true?”

“Of course not!”

“I saw you there when I relieved Lanelle for dinner.”

“Oh.” His pretty brown eyes darted for a way out faster than a trapped rabbit; then he smiled. I’d bet my nine oppas that grin had never failed him before. “I was trying to help, Aylin. I told you as much as I could without getting into trouble. You know I can’t give away League secrets.”

Aylin snorted. “How stupid do you think I am? You brag all the time about your League secrets.”

He laughed uneasily. “Some things you can’t talk about. What do you think the Luminary would do if I talked about”—he glanced around—“
that
. Tukel said he was going to tell, and he wasn’t on duty this morning. I bet he lost his job.”

Or worse, though Kione didn’t act as if that thought had occurred to him. Probably better for me that it hadn’t. I doubted he’d help at all if he knew the real dangers.

I gripped a fork so tight it bent. “‘Another one?’ I quoted him. “‘I didn’t think they had any left.’ Sound familiar?”

“Hey…” Confusion wrinkled his face. “How did you know…you weren’t there….” His eyes lit up. “You were on the stretcher?”

“I heard every word!”

“And you’re calling
me
a liar? You tricked League Elders to get inside. I should go to the Luminary right now and report you.”

Me and my big mouth. Anger felled more fools than sticks. “If you do, I’ll tell him you left your post to go watch rainbows with Lanelle.”

Aylin put a hand on each of our arms. “Stop it, stop it. This isn’t helping.”

“Sorry, Aylin,” said Kione, sliding off the bench. “I’m not going to listen to anything she has to say.”

She leaned across the table and grabbed his hand before he could walk away. “Kione, please. This is serious. Her sister is one of the apprentices in that room. She’s trying to help her.”

“Her sister’s in the
League
, for Saint’s sake. She has the best care she can get. I’m sure they’ll find whatever disease is causing this.”

I jumped up and stood in the aisle, blocking his escape. A few people looked over, but I didn’t care. “Disease? Is that what they told you?”

He shrugged, eyes flicking to Aylin, as if he didn’t want to admit he didn’t know everything he claimed.

“Those apprentices aren’t sick. They’re dying because the Luminary is using them like pynvium.”

“What? Why?”

“There’s no pynvium left, Kione.” Aylin’s soft voice floated up between us. “The Luminary is lying to us all.”

He went pale, and that can’t be faked. His mouth opened and closed as he sat back down.

“That can’t be true.”

“It is.” I pushed my hair back and sighed. “I need to get Tali out of there, and I need your help to do it.”