Beyond the Boundary Stones (The Chronicles of Tevenar Book 3) (27 page)

Kabos jerked to face him with murder in his eyes. “This land—”

Just then the lanterns scattered among the benches winked out, leaving only a bright pool of light on the stage. Ozor stepped into it and surveyed the crowd. “Welcome, friends! I’m overjoyed to see so many of you here tonight. Word is spreading of the wonders contained in this very tent, wonders Ramunna hasn’t seen since the ancient wizards wielded their powers. Wonders that surpass even their legendary abilities. Wonders that far outshine any feeble attempt by foreign pretenders to imitate their feats! My friends, tonight you will see true magic. Magic that’s available to everyone, magic that can relieve the most terrible suffering and restore the most ravaged body, magic that—”

Nirel nudged Josiah. “I don’t think I’ll have to perform tonight. Only if not enough real customers come forward. Ozor doesn’t want the same acts on every night, or people will get suspicious.”

“Can’t have that,” Josiah said, not bothering to hide his scorn.

Nirel shrugged. “It’s not as bad as you think. Watch and you’ll see.”

Josiah kept his mouth shut as Ozor brought his spiel to a conclusion and introduced the first healer. This one was a petite woman with colorful silk clothes and long black hair flowing down her back. Ozor waved at her as she opened a case and displayed dozens of hair-thin needles. “Tesi’s magic needles can cure the most agonizing pain. Headaches, backaches, pain in the joints or bowels, all vanish under her skillful touch. Who wants this amazing relief from suffering?” A dozen hands around the tent shot up. “You, ma’am, come to the front. Let the lady pass.”

A middle-aged woman, her face lined and weary, struggled past a row of knees to the aisle and hurried to the stage. Ozor greeted her warmly. “Half price for you, ma’am, because you’re bold enough to go first.” He held out his hand and the woman pressed a handful of coins into it. “Tell Tesi about your pain.”

The woman turned to the healer. Her voice was much softer than Ozor’s, so Josiah had to strain to hear. The whole crowd hushed to catch her words. “It’s my head, lady. For years now. I know it’s coming on because I see strange lights and I feel dizzy. Then it starts hurting, usually just one side of my head, like it’s on fire. Three days, four, it lasts, if I’m lucky. A week if I’m not.”

Josiah sat up. Those kinds of headaches were tricky. Wizards had never been able to figure out what caused them. The Mother’s power helped the immediate pain, but they usually kept coming back.

Tesi was nodding compassionately. “I can help. Are you in pain now?”

The woman nodded and put a hand to her temple. “Pounding, like a hammer, right here.”

“Have a seat and relax.” Tesi gestured to a chair and the woman sank into it gratefully.

Josiah glued his eyes on Tesi’s hands. The healer picked up a needle, smoothed a hand over the woman’s forehead, and plunged the needle deep into her temple.

The crowd gasped. Josiah swallowed hard, expecting blood, but there was none. The woman blinked, but didn’t protest. Working swiftly, Tesi placed more needles, until the woman’s face bristled like a tailor’s pincushion.

“How do you feel?” Tesi asked. “Did that hurt?”

The woman moved the muscles of her face gingerly. “Not really.”

“Relax for a few moments, as the needles balance the flow of energy in your body. Soon your pain will lessen.”

The woman obediently closed her eyes. Ozor called for more volunteers from the audience. Soon the stage was filled with people sprouting needles from various portions of their anatomy, and Ozor’s purse bulged with coins.

About twenty minutes had passed when Tesi returned to her first patient. She murmured to the woman, then began swiftly extracting needles and returning them to her case. A few spots oozed a single drop of blood, which Tesi wiped away, but for the most part Josiah couldn’t even tell where the needles had been.

When the last needle was gone, Tesi moved behind the woman and massaged her shoulders firmly. “How do you feel?”

The woman blinked and brushed her hand over the side of her head. “I—the pain is almost gone.” She shook her head, gingerly at first, then with more force. “It’s amazing. A miracle.” A smile lit her tired eyes. “How can I thank you?”

Tesi beamed. “Your happiness is thanks enough.” She helped the woman stand. “You will need to return to me for further treatments to make sure your headaches don’t return. Daily at first, perhaps weekly later. Speak to my assistant about times and prices.”

“I’ll pay anything,” the woman vowed. She moved as if a heavy burden had been taken off her back. Tesi directed her to where a woman Josiah recognized as a member of Ozor’s band waited at the side of the stage.

Josiah frowned after her skeptically. As more of Tesi’s customers attested to similar miraculous cures, he leaned toward Nirel. “She wasn’t one of you, acting?”

“No.” Nirel frowned at him. “Hush.”

Josiah turned to ask Elkan what he thought, but the wizard was studying Tesi’s patients with intense concentration. Josiah sighed and sent a thought to Sar, who was grazing in a field behind the tent.
Was that for real? How could it work, anyway?

Sar contemplated the images Josiah showed him.
It would be interesting to watch with the Mother’s power as she performs her treatment. Without doing so, we have no way of knowing whether or not the effect is real, or how it’s accomplished.

Maybe Elkan can persuade her to let us.
Josiah broke off as the last of Tesi’s patients left the stage and Ozor brought out another healer. This one was hawking a potion he claimed could cure a huge range of maladies, from baldness to insomnia to hiccups. More of Ozor’s people circulated through the crowd with bottles, doing a brisk business.

He was followed by a woman who regaled the crowd with tales of how she came to the rescue of women exhausted after days of hard labor, heroically drawing living babies from stubborn wombs using a device she’d invented. A number of pregnant woman in the crowd looked interested, but since no case of prolonged labor presented itself, the woman left the stage with a promise to attend any woman who needed her help.

Josiah’s attention wandered as several more speakers either lauded their own miraculous remedies or described the wonders they could perform. Just as the rest of the crowd was growing restless as well, Ozor conducted Nalini onto the stage with a flourish. Elkan sat up straighter and leaned forward. Josiah yawned and hoped Nalini’s performance would prove interesting.

Nalini put her hands on her hips and surveyed the crowd. “Who came to our show on Firstday?”

Scattered hands waved in the air. Nalini pointed to a middle-aged man in the third row. “Come up here with me. Do you remember the crippled boy?” The man nodded as he made his way onto the stage. “Tell us about him.”

The man’s deep voice carried to every corner of the tent. “His father carried him in. He said the child hadn’t walked for three years. You showed us how his leg was swollen and deformed, with a huge growth on his knee. You promised you could heal him.”

Nalini slapped him on the back. “So I did. Who else remembers? Is he right?”

Shouts of agreement came from all over the tent, confirming the man’s account. A smug grin played around Nalini’s lips as she stepped aside and made a sweeping gesture toward the curtains behind her. “Is this the boy you remember?”

A small form emerged from between the curtains. Pain shadowed his eyes, but he wore a huge grin. He used a pair of crutches to maneuver to Nalini’s side and proudly displayed a leg encased in a rigid white wrapping. “I can walk!” he cried.

The crowd erupted into cheers, nearly drowning out the man who testified that, indeed, it was the same boy. The boy paraded back and forth across the stage as Nalini described the surgery she’d performed and invited everyone to return again in a few weeks after the cast was removed. “You’ll see him running and jumping, as good as new. Won’t they?”

“You bet!” The boy balanced on his good leg to bow to the enthusiastic audience, then swung off into the wings, where a man that Josiah guessed must be his father swept him into a joyous hug.

“He shouldn’t be putting so much weight on that leg so soon,” Elkan muttered.

Josiah scowled. “They could have come to us. He would have gone to the front of the line, if it was really as bad as they said.”

“They’re Dualists,” Nirel told him. “See the father’s clothes?”

They were dull brown and plainly cut, but Josiah still couldn’t spot the subtle differences that identified the clothes as Dualist and not just those of any Ramunnan worker. “If you say so.”

Nalini spread her arms wide. “Who else needs my skill? Anyone with disorders of the limbs or internal organs, growths or tumors, wounds or—”

The crowd erupted with shocked exclamations, then settled into an awed hush. Nirel gripped Josiah’s arm and stared. He swung around to see what everyone was so excited about.

An older man escorted a young woman down the aisle to the stage. She leaned heavily on his arm. As they passed, Josiah could see that the right side of her face was red and badly swollen. Dark smudges under her eyes and lines etched into her brow spoke of severe pain long endured.

“Who are they?” Josiah whispered to Nirel.

“I don’t know.” She kept her eyes fixed on the stage, refusing to look at him.

“But you recognized them. Everyone does. Who—”

“I don’t know!” Nirel hissed. “Hush!”

Why was she lying? Josiah was sure she wouldn’t have reacted that way unless she knew who they were and was surprised to see them there. Practically everyone in the crowd leaned forward with intent interest, far more than they’d shown for any of the previous patients.

Nalini inclined her head to the pair. “Welcome. Tell me about your problem.”

The man’s voice was deep and rich. “I am Davon, and this is my daughter Mila. Speech is painful for her, so if I may I will speak for her.”

“Of course.” Nalini circled to the young woman’s side, studying her inflamed cheek, sparing only a brief glance for her father.

Davon put his hand on Mila’s shoulder. “It began three years ago. The ache in her jaw would come and go at first. We went to the tooth-puller, thinking it was simply a toothache. He told us a new tooth was coming in, and that when it broke through the skin he would pull it. But it never has.”

Nalini nodded. She motioned for the girl to open her mouth, and Mila obediently complied.

Davon continued. “Over the months the pain worsened. We’ve been to every healer in Ramunna, but they all say the same. Unless the tooth emerges, there’s nothing they can do. Some of them have lanced the swelling and drained off a foul fluid, but it always returns.”

Josiah couldn’t see into Mila’s mouth, but he could clearly picture what Davon described. He flexed his fingers, longing to send golden light flowing into Mila’s body. Sideways teeth could be challenging—you usually had to use the Mother’s power to pull the tooth out of the jaw before you could heal the damage and infection it had caused—but he was certain he and Sar could do it.

Davon’s voice had a desperate pleading quality at odds with his air of quiet presence. “Can you help us? Mila doesn’t complain, but she suffers terribly. She can barely eat, her sleep is restless, she has no strength for even simple tasks. She was betrothed, but when her conditioned worsened she released the young man from his contract, because she feared she couldn’t adequately fulfill her duties as a wife.” He hesitated a moment, then spoke more softly. “Our Faith requires daily prayers, regular confession, a yearly examination. Mila has always complied, but every word is agony for her.”

He looked over the audience. He drew himself up, and his voice shifted to a tone of profound authority. “Whatever sin the Lord of Justice sought to punish her for is now expiated. He has sent us the means for her deliverance in your skilled hands.”

The crowd reacted to his declaration with a soft collective sigh.

Josiah grimaced. Of course they were Dualists. What sin did they imagine the poor girl had committed that would justify this kind of torture? The more he learned about their beliefs the less he liked them. He hoped Nalini could do something for Mila, so she wouldn’t have to suffer even longer because of her family’s stupid convictions.

Nalini gave a noncommittal grunt and spent several more minutes peering into Mila’s mouth, turning the girl’s head in various directions to catch the lantern light. Finally she straightened and faced the audience. She once again assumed a theatrical demeanor, but Josiah could tell she was distracted. Probably planning the details of the treatment in her mind, like Elkan did when he had a particularly tough case. “Yes, I can heal your daughter.”

The crowd broke into applause. Nalini gestured for Davon and Mila to go backstage. “My assistants will prepare you for surgery. We’ll begin when the show is over.” She looked as if she wanted to accompany them, but she forced her attention back to the audience. “Return in three days and you’ll witness another miraculous recovery. Does anyone else require my services?”

No one responded. Ozor must have sensed that the night had reached its peak and anything else would be anticlimactic. He swept onto the stage and dismissed the crowd with thanks and the promise of further spectacular shows in the coming days.

As soon as the lights came up, Elkan rose. “I’ve got to speak to them. Come, Josiah.” He pushed through the throngs of chattering people, Josiah tagging behind. Their progress was slow until Tobi bounded in through the open tent flap and loped to Elkan’s side. The crowd scattered before her with gasps and shrieks. Elkan ignored them. He put his hand on Tobi’s head and strode toward the back of the tent. People scrambled to get out of their way.

Josiah grinned at Sar when he joined them outside the curtain that screened the backstage area.
Bet you wish you had teeth and claws like hers.

The donkey didn’t deign to answer, just flicked one long ear at Josiah in eloquent contempt.

Josiah’s smile faded when he recognized the big man guarding the opening in the curtain. Elkan nodded stiffly at him. “Tereid.”