Dangerous Talents (35 page)

Cele raised her eyebrows.
A secret passage. Cool
.

Dahleven lit the oil lamp hanging just inside and hung it from his belt. “This way is quicker,” he said. He almost sounded embarrassed. “You’ll have to tie up your skirts.”

Cele knotted the cream dress up above her knees and swung onto the rungs after Dahleven. Innumerable steps down, the ladder ended. The air had grown much cooler and Cele was glad of her cloak. Her hands were sore from grasping the rungs and she flexed her stiff fingers.

Dahleven turned to her. “Can you Find him? I’m sorry I have no likeness of him. He’s about this tall,” his hand indicated the height, “very blond, very blue eyes.”

Cele smiled.
That probably describes half the five-year-olds in Quartzholm
. “Anything that makes him special? What was he wearing?”

Dahleven ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know. But you don’t have to pick him out of a crowd. There aren’t that many children down here.”

Dahleven looked away, then back. “My apologies, Celia. I know what I’m asking is difficult.” Dahleven looked intently into her eyes. The dim lantern light made his dark gray eyes seem nearly black, but Cele could see the urgency in them, leashed and controlled, but there. Cele touched him lightly on the arm. “It’s okay. That’s why I’m here.”

She fumbled around in her head for a moment, remembering what she’d done the day before with Fender and Ghav. They’d given her examples and descriptions of the things they’d wanted Found, and she’d had fun Finding them. She’d wanted to do it. Wanted to show off a little too, after a while. It had been easy, as long as she held the
wanting
of the thing in her mind.

Cele tried to build an image of a little boy in her mind. She imagined how he might look right then: dirty, frightened, tear-stained. She tried to reach out, to
want
that child, to feel where he was.

Nothing
.

She shook her head. “I’m not getting anything.”

Dahleven caressed her arm above the elbow. “Take it easy. Reach out. The little adventurer could be quite a distance from here.”

“Adventurer?”

Dahleven flashed a crooked smile. “Ari is the bane of Ingirid’s life. He’s fearless. Ever since he could walk he’s been getting into one mischief or another. Last year he split his lip falling out of the storage-lift.” Dahleven touched his own mouth.

I’ve been looking for the wrong boy
. Cele revised the image she’d created in her mind to include clear, curious blue eyes, and a scarred lip. She wanted that boy.
Where
—

The strange certainty began immediately, though faintly. “That way, I think.” She pointed at the wall. “This doesn’t help much, does it?”

“How far?” Dahleven asked.

“I don’t know.” Cele covered her face and concentrated. “Farther than Angrim’s bracelet. Not as far as the spring from where you found me.”

“Good, I think I know where to go then.” Dahleven concentrated a moment, then took her arm, urging her down the tunnel on the left.

They walked a long way, further than Cele would have expected a five-year-old to go by himself, but the sensation of being drawn continued, and grew stronger. They came to a four way branch and stopped.

“Which one?” Dahleven asked.

Cele hardly needed to concentrate. The peculiar certainty pulled her surely into the second tunnel from the left. She half expected Dahleven to question her, but he merely held the lantern aloft to light their way. The stone walls grew moist and dampness thickened the air.

The feeling grew stronger and Cele picked up her pace. “He’s close.”

“Ari!” Dahleven’s shout reverberated off the stone walls, making Cele jump.

“Uncle Dahben?” A boy’s high-pitched voice came back faintly. He sounded nervous, but not frightened.

“Stay put! We’re coming,” Dahleven shouted again.

Then, faintly, they heard a splash.

“Is there standing water down here?” Cele asked.

“Yes!” Dahleven started to jog, then run. Cele nearly kept up, only slowly falling behind.

A minute later Cele nearly ran into Dahleven’s back. The tunnel opened to a wide cavern, filled with dark water. The light glinted gold on the still surface.

“Ari!” Dahleven’s voice echoed.

Nothing.

“Answer me! Ari!” Dahleven’s commanding voice should have made the five-year-old jump.

The silence was broken only by their own ragged breathing.

Cele’s Talent pulled her gaze to the right. Fear froze her heart. There was something in the water. “Look!” She pointed.

Dahleven held the lantern high. “No!”

He thrust the light into Cele’s hands, then waded into the lake. A moment later he carried Ari’s limp, sodden body out of the water, clutching the boy to his chest, his fists clenched in the child’s clothes.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“Put him down!” Cele used her professional voice, the one she used to get people on the phone to listen in difficult situations.

Dahleven’s head bent low to the boy’s shoulder. “I told you to stay put, you little fool.” Grief strangled his words.

“Dahleven! Put, him, down!” She put the lantern on the ground and pulled at Ari, and her professional demeanor slipping. “Now, dammit!”

Dahleven raised an angry, anguished face to hers, but let Ari go. Cele took the child and laid him on the smooth damp floor. She adjusted his head, clearing the airway, then put an ear to his mouth and watched his chest.

Nothing. No motion.

Cele felt like she was replaying a horrible nightmare.

Carefully, she sealed the boy’s mouth and nose with her lips and exhaled, twice.

Dahleven dropped to his knees on the other side of the child. “What are you doing?” He demanded. “Leave him be!”

Cele ignored him. She felt Ari’s neck for a pulse.
Yes
! It was there, a little slow, but there. Two more breaths, and suddenly Ari coughed, took a deep breath, and vomited lake water all over her dress. Cele turned him on his side until he finished retching. And then the little adventurer began to cry.

Dahleven pulled Ari into his arms and looked at Cele with wonder-widened eyes. “What did you do? Are you doubly Talented?”

She shook her head. “I learned that back home. It’s called CPR. I can teach you—later.” Cele’s stomach cramped in hunger and she winced. “Let’s go. We need to get him warm and dry.”

Dahleven led the way, carrying Ari wrapped in Cele’s cloak, while Cele carried the light. Ari’s wails quickly subsided to whimpers that echoed loudly off the tunnel walls. Cele didn’t think they returned the same way they came, though it was difficult for her to tell. A fog of fatigue enveloped her; the details of the tunnels’ twists and turns faded into unimportance. Even the chill bite of the cold tunnels became indistinct. All that mattered was putting one leaden foot in front of the other fast enough to keep up with Dahleven.

Finally, they came to a narrow staircase that rose steeply into the wall. Dahleven told her to go first; he followed close behind.

She was taking too much time. They’d only climbed ten steps, and already Cele felt like she faced Everest. “I’m slowing you down. You should go on ahead,” Cele said as they approached a tiny landing. “I’ll hook the lantern to your belt.”

“No. Keep going,” Dahleven said shortly.

“I’m not afraid of the dark. I can feel my way up or wait for you to come back for me. You should get Ari back.”

Dahleven looked stubborn. “Ari is fine now. It’s you we need to get back.”

Ari did look fine. He stared around him with large, blue, curious eyes, just as Cele had imagined.
He still should be examined by a doctor, or a healer at least
. There was no urgency for her. She was just tired and hungry and moving too slowly. Cele turned and pushed upward. She could be stubborn, too, but an argument would delay Ari’s return even more. She saw Dahleven nod, apparently pleased with her compliance, and that sparked her annoyance.
The prince of Nuvinland must have his way
.

Her irritation distracted Cele from the difficulty of the next three steps. She forgot why she was angry, but held on to it for strength.
Oh, yeah
, she remembered.
Dahleven. Macho jerk
.

A voice echoed up the narrow stair. “Hello! Have you found him?”

Dahleven turned and shouted over his shoulder. “Tholvien? Yes, we’ve got him.” Dahleven turned carefully in the confined space and descended.

Cele collapsed to sit on a shallow step. What was going on? She couldn’t think.

A moment later Dahleven returned, empty-handed. “Come on, we’re going to go a different way now.”

“Why? What did you do with Ari?”

“Tholvien’s got him. Come on.”

Descending the fourteen steps was easier than climbing them, but she was still moving slowly and her legs felt wobbly. Dahleven backed down the steps in front of her until she made the bottom. Then he swept her up in his arms. This time she didn’t protest.

“What’s wrong with her?” The tall, dark-haired man holding Ari asked. He looked familiar.

“She’s in Emergence, and I don’t think she’s eaten since this morning. Do you have any food on you?”

“Emergence! What were you thinking, then, having her climb that stair? My lord.”

Cele was vaguely surprised to hear Dahleven sound defensive. “It was the quickest way, and she didn’t seem so bad when we started.”

Cele lost track of the conversation and let her eyes close, her head resting on Dahleven’s shoulder.

The next thing she knew she was in her room and Thora and Ghav were pressing a cup against her lips.

“You must drink, my lady! Swallow!” Ghav shouted.

Why is he shouting at me
? The liquid was warm and fruity and vilely sweet, but Cele swallowed, just to get rid of it. The bed was tilting sideways, but her tormentors still held the cup to her lips.

“More! Another little bit, that’s it,” Thora said.

Why won’t they leave me alone
? Cele tried to turn away, but Ghav held her head in place until she swallowed again.

“That’s it, finish it off.”

They let her lie down then, on the blessedly soft featherbed, where she fell into a dreamless sleep.

*

Dahleven shifted in the chair he’d had brought to Celia’s room. He’d spent all night and most of the morning watching her sleep. Exhaustion marred the skin under her eyes with dark circles. He shouldn’t have accepted her offer of help. She didn’t understand Emergence. He’d been careless with her, deceived against his own experience by her apparent strength. And she’d Found Ari just in time, and breathed life back into him. Without her, Ingirid would be mourning her son. But Celia suffered because of his inattention.

Every time she stirred, he hoped she’d wake to set his concerns to rest, to give him a chance to apologize for his careless treatment of her, but her breathing barely varied. She remained deeply asleep, in the fatigue brought on by use of her Talent. He wondered if she’d drunk enough of the
sterkkidrikk
before she’d slept. What if she never woke? It had happened.

He could have brought serious harm to Celia. After surviving a battle, killing a man, and enduring his father’s interrogation, he’d asked her to use her Talent when she hadn’t had a bite since morning. Ghav and Thora had barely been able to force the restorative liquid down her throat, giving her some reserves before she passed out. It wasn’t safe for someone in Emergence to yield to the fatigue without eating first. It could be especially bad for women. In one case, the girl had never reawakened.

Celia dreamed on. He wanted to shake her, to relieve his concern, to know she could wake, but Ghav had told him to leave her be. Her body would heal itself if left alone.

So Dahleven sat and watched her sleep, and waited for her to wake. He wasn’t happy when Thora shooed him out to join the Althing.

Dahleven tugged his wrinkled tunic straight before stepping into the room full of Jarls and heirs, crofters and carls. His attention was demanded immediately by Lord Yngvar.

“Nice bit of excitement yesterday, wasn’t it, Lord Dahleven?”

Dahleven hedged, not sure which “excitement” Yngvar referred to, or how much he knew. “Indeed. Though I would hardly call it ‘nice.’”

Yngvar ignored the implied rebuke. “How is young Ari? I imagine Jon gave the sprat a lesson he’ll not soon forget.”

That excitement
. “I hope nearly drowning is all the lesson Ari needs.”

Fortunately, Jon had been too drunk to know Ari was even missing, sparing the boy and his brothers from their father’s temper for a while. Ari had followed his older brothers Ljot and Solvin down into the tunnels. When they’d discovered him, they’d given him a torch and told him to go back. They should have known better. They certainly did once Dahleven had gotten through with them.

“Lord Ragnar’s lady, Lady Celia, she helped Find him, didn’t she?”

Ragni’s lady
?
Is that what the rumor mongers are spewing
? “Yes, Lady Celia helped.”

“Guess she overtaxed her new Talent, though. Heard you had to carry her out of the tunnels. Is she going to be all right?”

Dahleven winced inwardly. “Yes, she’s quite well.” He hoped it was true.

“I hope Lord Ragnar doesn’t find fault with you for sneaking about the tunnels with his lady, let alone carrying her through the halls of Quartzholm. It’s a sad thing when a woman comes between brothers,” Yngvar said.

*

The first thing Cele did when she awoke was eat. Thora had fruit ready and waiting, and sent out for bread, roast fowl, and cheese while Cele demolished it. By the time her hunger was sated, it was nearly mid-afternoon and the fog that had clouded her mind had begun to lift.

Thora picked up the tray and gave Cele an approving nod. “I’m glad you ate more willingly than you did last evening, my lady. The best thing for you now is to sleep again.” Cele yawned and Thora nodded in satisfaction before she swept out of the room with the tray.