Last of the Wilds

30



The room Reivan had been given as a full Servant was twice the size of her previous one—which meant it still wasn’t particularly big. It was late and she longed for sleep, but no sooner had she entered her rooms than a knock came from the door. She sighed. It had been a day of interruptions. Returning to the door, she opened it, determined to tell whoever was out there to come back in the morning.

Nekaun stood outside. She stared at him in surprise.

“I have a few questions for you, Reivan. May I come in?”

She gathered her wits and held the door open. “Of course, holy one.”

As he walked into her room she felt an unexpected thrill of excitement. What would other Servants say about her prestigious visitor? Her stomach sank as she realized they might suspect an amorous encounter. She glanced over her shoulder as she closed the door. Nekaun was even more good-looking in the light of the single lamp she had used to light her way through the Sanctuary. Her heart began to race. What if he has come for more than just to ask questions? Would I mind?

She shook her head. Don’t be ridiculous—and stop thinking about it! she told herself. He can read your mind, you fool. Embarrassed, she hurried to light a second lamp, filling the little room with a reassuring brightness.

“Please sit down, First Voice,” she said. “Would you like some water?”

“No,” he replied as he folded himself onto her only chair. “Thank you.”

She poured herself a glass of water then perched on the edge of the bed. He smiled at her warmly and she looked down, suddenly self-conscious.

“I wanted to ask you about the Siyee,” he said. “It appears they believe they were created by one of these Circlian gods. Do you think they would ever be persuaded otherwise?”

Reivan frowned. “Perhaps. It will be far more difficult to convert them, but with effort and time they may see the error of their belief.”

“Effort and time. A long investment of effort or a better-timed effort?”

She looked at him. “I suppose eventually the rest of Ithania will be worshipping the Five. It would be easier to coax the Siyee out of their heathen ways then.”

Nekaun’s gaze was thoughtful. “It might be worth the wait, so long as they don’t prove a threat to us in the interim.”

“What else could you do?” she asked.

He paused, then abruptly rose and began pacing the short space of floor between the chair and door. Two steps there. Two steps back. “Many Siyee died during the war. They are vulnerable right now.”

“You would attack them?” she asked, surprised. This was uncharacteristically direct and warlike for him. His plans so far had been subtle and bloodless.

“I’d rather not,” he said. “Not least because it might start another war.”

“It might start a war?” She shook her head. “It would start a war.”

He stopped pacing and turned to regard her with narrowed eyes. After a moment his face relaxed and he smiled.

“Ah, Reivan. Imenja was right to single you out. You are so refreshingly frank. I am tempted to take you as a Companion for myself.”

She felt her face warming and looked away, her heart racing at the thought. Me! An unskilled woman! Companion to the First Voice!

But it wasn’t just ambition that set her pulse racing. Breathing slowly, she willed herself into a calmer state.

“I’m… flattered,” she said. “It would be a great honor.”

He chuckled. “Imenja is determined to keep you and is taking you away with her to Elai. I will have to find someone else to provide frank and direct opinion when I need it.” He moved toward her and held out his hand. She took it and was drawn to her feet, but he did not step back to make room for her. Standing so close that she could feel the warmth of his breath on her face, he smiled. “Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me.”

Her voice froze in her throat. She nodded, avoiding the eyes that sought hers. Her heart was beating quickly again, but this time she was unable to calm it. He reached out and touched her cheek lightly.

“I will not keep you up any longer. Good night, Reivan.” Letting go of her hand, he strode across the room to the door. He opened it, paused to smile at her, then stepped outside.

As the door closed she slowly let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. There is absolutely no chance that he doesn’t know how he affects me, she thought. She laughed wryly at his words. ‘Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me.’ Had he been making a joke?

She sighed and sat down. What are the odds that I can make myself get over this infatuation while I am away? Surely a few months at sea will be enough for me to come to my senses.

It better be, she told herself. Or this is going to make life in the Sanctuary very, very uncomfortable.


I must be crazy, Mirar thought as he slid along the rope. I should have realized Auraya would come here the moment news of Hearteater reached her. I should have left before she arrived.

But would you have? Leiard asked.

Mirar frowned. It would have meant abandoning the Siyee. Those who cannot fight the disease would have died without my help.

Yes. Which is why you stayed after she arrived.

I wouldn‘t have got far. She would have found me. And if I’d left before she arrived she would have heard stories of a Dreamweaver and come looking for me.

She would have been too busy healing Siyee to look for you, Leiard pointed out. Just as she will be if you leave now. So why do you stay?

Mirar sighed. The damage was done. Auraya must have noticed my mind was shielded the moment she met me. She ought to have been suspicious.

She wasn’t. She was puzzled, but not suspicious. Your explanation satisfied her. She doesn’t understand the significance of the mind shield.

Either the gods haven’t told her or she’s hiding her suspicions well.

Why would she do that?

Because she needs me. All she knows is that I’m capable of hiding my mind.

And can heal magically in a way only immortals can. Why did you reveal that?

Because the only other choice was to let someone die. Again, she seemed amazed by the healing, not alarmed. I don’t think she understands the significance of it either.

But the gods do.

Yes. But they only know I’m a Dreamweaver who happens to be powerful enough to heal magically. They don’t know if I have actually learned to stop myself aging as well. If I behave as if I have something to fear they’ll guess I know more than I should. That’s why I can’t run. He started pulling himself along the rope again.

They won’t take the risk that you haven’t become an immortal, Leiard warned. They’re biding their time. You’re useful to them right now, but the moment the Siyee are safe the gods will have you killed.

By who? Auraya? It would be a bit much to ask their newest White to kill her former lover, don’t you think?

You are taking an immense risk. If she knew your true identity she would not hesitate to kill you.

And I’m not foolish enough to tell her. Neither am I foolish enough to stay here longer than I need to. Once the Siyee are well I will leave.

Reet, as always, was waiting for Mirar at the next platform. As Mirar hauled himself along the rope the boy hovered at the edge, then when he reached the platform the boy stepped forward to help him up.

Abruptly, Reet turned away and a rough sound escaped him. Mirar placed a hand on Reet’s shoulders and felt them shake with every cough.

“Go inside and rest.”

Reet grimaced. “If I lie down I might not get up again.”

“That will be true if you don’t rest.”

“Who will check on people? Who will take messages to Auraya?”

“There are other Siyee well enough to take over the task. Now, let’s see how your brother is faring.”

“He’s better,” a voice said from the bower.

He turned to find Reet’s mother slouched against the entrance. Shaking his head, Mirar walked toward her.

“You should be resting, too,” he told her.

“You said I was recovering,” she replied.

“Not that quickly.”

“Someone has to feed the boys.”

He took her arm and guided her back inside, helping her climb back into her bed. When she had settled he left Reet talking to her, and moved into the other room. Two sling beds hung to one side, one empty. The boy in the occupied one was sleeping, his breathing slow and unhampered, his skin pale but not bluish.

It appears your prospective student has overcome the disease, Leiard said.

Yes, Mirar replied. He turned and called to Reet.

Reet’s footsteps were hurried. He looked at his brother anxiously.

“He has beaten it,” Mirar told him. “In a few days he’ll have recovered his strength enough to walk.” He pointed to the empty bed. “Now it’s your turn. Rest.”

Reet hesitated, then reluctantly climbed into the sling. Moving closer to Tyve, Mirar pretended to examine the sleeping boy while he watched his brother. Reet sighed, coughed a little, then his breathing slowed and he sank into an exhausted sleep.

“Has Reet got it?”

Mirar jumped at the voice. He looked at Tyve and found the boy watching him.

“Do not fear for him,” he murmured. “I will make sure he recovers.”

Tyve nodded. He closed his eyes and a faint smile crossed his face. “I know.”

“You’re past the worst of it,” Mirar told him.

“I’m so tired. When will I be able to fly?”

“In a few days you can start building up the strength in your arms again.”

Light footsteps brought Mirar’s attention to the room’s entrance. The boys’ mother entered, carrying a bowl of water. He sighed and crossed his arms.

“What will it take to make you stay in bed?”

“How long is it since Reet ate?” she countered.

He felt a pang of guilt; he did not know. She searched his face and nodded.

“I thought so. The White lady brought food and fresh water. I hear she is not as good a healer as you, but she can fly. That’s… useful.”

Mirar took the bowl from her. “How do you know what the villagers are saying?” he asked, worried that people had been visiting each other secretly.

“Reet has been carrying gossip as well as messages for you.”

He chuckled and turned back to Tyve. The boy took the bowl and drank all the water thirstily. It appeared to give him some strength.

“How is it you knew Auraya before now?” Tyve asked.

“That is something I wish to keep private,” Mirar replied.

Tyve’s eyebrows rose, then drew together into a frown. “You don’t like her.”

Mirar found himself shaking his head. “That’s not true.”

Taking the empty bowl, Mirar handed it to Tyve’s mother. She left to gather more.

“You hate her, then?”

“No.”

Nosy, isn’t he? Leiard observed.

“What do you think of her?”

Mirar shrugged. “She is a capable woman. Powerful. Intelligent. Compassionate.”

Tyve rolled his eyes. “That’s not what I meant. If you don’t hate her, what do you feel?”

“Neither friendship nor animosity. I suppose I feel respect.”

“So you do like her?”

“If ‘respect’ means ‘like,’ then I guess I do.”

Tyve made a small, dissatisfied noise and looked away. His eyes narrowed.

“If I was your student would I get to travel the world?”

Mirar laughed. “Who says you’re going to be my student?”

“Nobody yet. But if I was, would I meet more important people like Auraya?”

“I hope not.”

The boy frowned. “Why wouldn’t you want me to?”

“Important people are always either beset by troubles or are the source of strife themselves. Keep away from them.”

You sound like me, Leiard injected.

Tyve’s eyes brightened. “Is that what happened to you? Did Auraya bring you strife of some kind?”

Mirar took a step toward the door. “That is none of your concern. I hope you recover your respect for elders and visitors when you recover your strength, Tyve. Otherwise I fear you’ll turn into a shameless gossip.” He turned away and walked to the door, and heard Tyve’s bed creak as he sat up.

“But—”

Looking over his shoulder, Mirar placed a finger to his lips and looked at the sleeping form of Reet meaningfully. Tyve bit his lip, then subsided into his bed with a sigh.

Mirar met the boys’ mother in the next room.

“You’re right,” he said. “Tyve is better. I fear you’ll have trouble keeping him in bed. Try to stop him from flying until his strength is fully returned.”

She nodded. “And Reet?”

“Watch him closely.”

“I will.” She moved past him with the refilled bowl.

Stepping outside the bower, Mirar moved to the sling. He paused to consider who was well enough to replace Reet as messenger. From behind came the thud of feet on wood. He turned to see Auraya standing a few steps away.

“Lei-Wilar,” she said. “Speaker Veece is failing again. He needs your help.”

Mirar found himself simultaneously dismayed and pleased. He was concerned by her news, and at the same time not sure why he should be happy that she’d sought him out. Perhaps only because she had acknowledged that his skills were greater than hers.

No, Leiard said. That’s not it. You’re vain, but not that vain. It’s because she’s no longer avoiding you. You like her.

“I’d better get myself over there,” he muttered. Moving to the sling, he shrugged into it. In his mind he plotted a path to the Speaker’s platform. It was at least three rope journeys away. He realized Auraya was still watching him.

“I’ll meet you there,” he told her.

She nodded, then moved to the edge of the platform and leapt off. Though she did not have to, she glided in an imitation of the Siyee’s graceful flight, reaching the Speaker’s bower in moments. She did it so easily, so naturally, that he could not help feeling an echo of his old, abandoned admiration for her.

Not yours, Leiard corrected. Mine.

I admired her, too, he retorted. Just not to point of becoming a besotted fool.

Dropping off the platform, he began to pull himself toward the next. It was an uphill climb, and soon he was breathing heavily with the effort. His hands hurt where they had been rubbed raw on the harsh rope.

Still, it’s better than climbing up and down ropes all day and night, Leiard pointed out.

Reaching the next platform, Mirar slipped out of the sling and moved to another rope. Shrugging into the second sling, he slid down to a smaller platform. From there it was a harder journey to the Speaker’s home. Auraya was watching him, which only made him conscious of how awkward and graceless he must look. He settled into the third sling and started hauling himself along.

Suddenly the sling began to move of its own accord. Looking up, he saw Auraya standing on the platform ahead, one hand outstretched.

Moving you with magic. Now why didn’t you think of that? Leiard asked.

I was concerned the ropes would be damaged if I travelled too fast, Mirar retorted. You know that.

Fast or slow, the wear would be the same, Leiard said. I know you know that.

Mirar scowled. You win. I didn’t think of it. I’m an idiot. Satisfied?

As he neared the platform he saw that Auraya was smiling. He felt his stomach flip over.

She is wonderful, Leiard murmured.

Don’t start this again, Mirar warned.

Then his feet were on the platform and Auraya was helping him out of the sling. Her smile was gone, replaced by a frown of anxiety.

“His body just can’t fight it,” she told him. “This may be one of those times of last resort you spoke of.”

He nodded. “I agree.”

“I…” She paused, then shook her head.

He turned to look at her. “What?”

She shook her head again, then sighed. “I have to ask. When I think of how many lives might be saved, I can’t let… other things… get in the way.” She straightened her shoulders. “Would you teach me how to kill a disease within a body?”

He stared at her. She held his gaze.

She can’t know the significance of the healing, he thought.

No, she must think that what she’s asking for is one of the Dreamweavers’ greatest secrets, Leiard said. I think she’d understand if you refused.

Yes, Mirar agreed. But can I? When I think of the future… The Circlians are here to stay, whether I like it or not. There is only one of me in the world and I am not free to go where I am needed. She is right that she could save many lives. I would not be revealing anything more about myself than she knows already.

But surely the gods will not allow it!

Why not? She’s already immortal. He paused. They must have some other way of making her ageless. If she can defy time as we immortals do, then she should already be able to heal magically.

So if her immortality is gained by other means than ours, you can’t assume she’ll be capable of healing magically, Leiard concluded. Perhaps that is why the gods have not already given her this Gift. Which is strange. Surely being able to heal people would be a great advantage to a White. There may be a reason why they don’t want them to, and if you teach her it might anger them and…

Auraya was frowning now. He realized he had been staring at her for some time, and looked away.

“I… I will consider it,” he told her.

She nodded. “Thank you.”

Then she turned to the bower and led him in to see Speaker Veece.