XL
At the knock on the door and the click of the latch, Cerryl sat up straighter from where he was stretched out on the bed and set down On Peacekeeping. “Yes?”
Leyladin stepped into the room, and a cool breeze flowed from the open high window until she closed the door. “You look like you’re feeling better.”
“I am. You’re a good healer.”
“You helped.” She smiled.
For a moment Cerryl just looked at her, amazed that she was the same woman he’d seen by chance in a screeing glass when he’d been but a child.
“Let me see the arm.” Leyladin bent over Cerryl and examined his right shoulder, both with her eyes and with her senses.
He could feel the dark shafts of order, slightly uncomfortable, but not painful.
“There’s some leftover chaos there. Just hold still.”
“I am holding still.”
“There. I don’t think it will recur, but I’ll check tomorrow before you leave for the Guild meeting.” Leyladin took a slow, deep breath.
“How-”
“Because Myral told me to.” The blonde healer smiled.
“Sit down for a moment. I know healing is work.”
“Just for a moment. I still have to see Myral.” The blonde healer eased into the straight-backed chair.
“How is he?”
Leyladin shook her head. “Not as well as I would like. Each day, the cough gets stronger, and he gets weaker, but there’s no illness. The chaos has taken its toll on him.” She shrugged. “He’s been more careful than most, at least in the recent years, but White mages don’t live that long.” Her eyes studied Cerryl.
“I’m trying. I’ve followed his advice.”
“You and Kinowin are about the only ones.”
“Jeslek almost flaunts his power. He doesn’t have to; everyone knows he’s the strongest.”
“Everyone does,” Leyladin said blandly, raising one eyebrow as she looked at Cerryl.
“You-” Cerryl paused, wondering how she knew he was avoiding displaying his own abilities.
“It’s hard to keep things from a healer.”
“I’m discovering that.” Along with many other things.
“You know,” she said quietly, “you’re not really a White mage.”
Cerryl frowned.
“You look White to most, but you’re not. There’s no core of chaos within you. That’s why that heavy iron arrowhead didn’t kill you.” Leyladin smiled. “You can handle chaos, but you can also handle order. You’re a gray mage.”
Cerryl winced. “Don’t tell anyone. You know what Jeslek and Sterol would do to me if that came out. I’ve enough difficulties anyway.”
“Myral and Kinowin already know. They won’t say anything. They’re like you. Why do you think they look out for you?”
“Because I’m not always trying to prove I’m the master of chaos,”
Cerryl suggested.
“That doesn’t hurt.” Leyladin stretched, then stood. “I feel better, and I need to see Myral.” She walked to the bed, bent down, and brushed his cheek with her lips. “Just be careful.”
“I will.”
Once the door closed, Cerryl leaned back against the pillows. An iron arrowhead, a large one, and an attack against a mage. He nodded slowly to himself. If the attack succeeded, no one would trace the killer, because no one would be able to find the archer. If it failed, as it had, there wasn’t enough of the archer left to determine who had hired him. That meant some mage who knew Cerryl all too well, and Cerryl was fairly sure which one it was. But he still didn’t understand why.
After a deep breath, he picked up On Peacekeeping. So far, he hadn’t found even veiled references to smuggling and stolen goods. Since it was his third time through the book, he doubted he would, but learning more about peacekeeping couldn’t hurt. Besides, he felt guilty about someone else having to take his duty, but Leyladin and Kinowin had insisted that a few days’ recuperation would be better for everyone.