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Authors: Gail Z. Martin

BOOK: Dark Lady's Chosen
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Carina looked to Taru. “Where’s Jonmarc?”

Taru and the others exchanged glances. “Malesh challenged Jonmarc for the title of Lord of Dark Haven. Jonmarc, Gabriel, and most of the
vayash moru
guard left at sunset yesterday.

They haven’t returned, and the sun has just set again.”

“How long do we have, to find a cure?” Carina asked.

Taru spoke, her voice unusually gentle. “We’re not sure. There’s no record of something like this happening before. But you’re right—it’s putting a tremendous strain on your body. We think that we have about six days to find an answer before your body burns out.”

“There is another complication.” They all looked at Riqua. “Malesh wasn’t successful in bringing you across, but he brought you far enough that you’re somewhere in-between. We don’t know how strong the bond is between the two of you. Normally, the bond between maker and fledgling is strong enough for the first several lifetimes that to destroy the maker destroys his fledges. They die his death.”

The horror of Riqua’s statement dawned slowly on Carina. “So if Jonmarc kills Malesh before we find a way to cure me, there’s a good chance that it will kill me, too? That I’ll feel what Malesh feels?”

Riqua nodded.

“Did Jonmarc know?”

Pain flickered in Riqua’s eyes. “He knew. But Malesh said he’d slaughter a village every night that Jonmarc delayed.”

Carina swallowed hard. “Sweet Mother and Childe.” She shut her eyes for a moment, trying to forget Malesh’s boast about destroying Jonmarc. Instead, one of the dreams that had haunted her in the darkness returned vividly, taking on a dangerous new meaning. Carina opened her eyes and looked up at Taru. “I had a dream. At least, I thought it was a dream.

Now, I’m not so sure. I saw a clearing in the forest, and a crossroads. There was a small village. The forest was dark. And I saw
vayash moru
fighting in the moonlight. But it was if I was seeing it from a distance. It wasn’t a long dream—just a glimpse. I didn’t see how the fight ended.” Her gaze searched their faces. “Could I have been seeing it through Malesh—

through the bond?”

Riqua’s expression was somber. “This complicates matters.” She turned away. “They were headed for the Caliggan Crossroads. That village is much as you describe.” Riqua began to pace. “It answers our question about whether or not Malesh created a bond.”

Taru looked at Riqua. “Does the bond go both ways? Can the maker see through the fledgling?”

Riqua shrugged ill-humoredly, as if Carina’s revelation had thrown off her assumptions. “It depends. I wouldn’t expect Malesh to be powerful enough to form so strong a bond.

Perhaps it’s a fluke because of Carina’s magic. What we’re doing now, trying to heal Carina, shouldn’t be dangerous even if he were to know it through the bond. It might even work in our favor,” she said slowly, thinking as she spoke, “if it distracts him from going after Jonmarc.” She sighed. “There’s no helping it. We’ll work around it.”

“If what I saw wasn’t a dream, if it was something I glimpsed through the bond with Malesh, then for some reason, Jonmarc hasn’t fought Malesh yet.” Carina said.
I’m assuming that in
a fight, Jonmarc would win and Malesh would be destroyed, which would kill me
, she thought.
But if they fought, and Malesh won…
Carina squeezed her eyes shut tightly against the rest of that thought.

“It would appear so,” Royster answered neutrally. If the corollary occurred to him, he did not say it aloud.

Carina set her jaw. “I’ll help you search the records. I can’t stay in-between like this. And if we can reverse what Malesh did, before Jonmarc destroys him…”

“We must act quickly,” Riqua agreed. “Lisette can help you dress. We’ll be in the sitting room. It’s become our study. Royster has some ideas, things he’s found in some of the old records. They may be worth a try.”

Riqua, Taru and Royster filed from the room, leaving only Lisette and Raen. The ghost girl watched from a distance as Lisette helped Carina change and offered her another glass of the blood and milk mixture. Carina regarded it with distaste.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Lisette said with a sad smile. “But it was the best we could come up with. Riqua didn’t think that… as you are now… you could digest solid food. The bit of the Dark Gift you possess hungers for blood. You must keep your strength up.” She offered the glass. Carina took it without looking closely and forced herself to drink the mixture, struggling not to gag. She handed the glass back to Lisette.

Raen dared to draw closer and knelt in front of Carina, reaching for Carina’s hand with her own ghostly touch. Although Raen did not speak, her concern was clear in her face. “Thank you,” Carina said raggedly to both Lisette and Raen. “I suspect you kept vigil with the others, too.”

“We’ll do whatever you need us to do, m’lady,” Lisette said, and Raen nodded. “The whole manor is awaiting word.”

“There’s too much to be done for me to stay in bed.” Carina tried to stand and wavered, as Lisette rushed to steady her.

“You need more time to rest, m’lady.”

Carina shook her head. “If Riqua’s right, I’ll be dead in less than a week unless we find a way to reverse what Malesh did. So I’d better get up and start helping, or I’ll have eternity to rest—and I wasn’t counting on that just yet.”

Carina stood by sheer willpower and managed to stay on her feet. Lisette drew her gently to the window, pulling back the heavy curtains to reveal the courtyard below. It was nighttime, and the courtyard was lit with torches. “Look there,” Lisette said quietly.

In the center of the courtyard, a group of perhaps twenty people stood singing in the snow.

Near them was a pile of objects Carina could not quite make out at this distance.

“As soon as word got out about what Malesh did, they started coming,” Lisette said. “This morning, there were only ten of them. More come every time I look. They’re the villagers, the people you healed, the townsfolk who believe in what Lord Jonmarc is doing to restore Dark Haven. Those things in the snow—they’re charms and other gifts. The townspeople brought them. They stand there and they sing, they pray, they chant. Neirin offered them shelter, but they

refused. They say they will stay until you’re healed.”

Carina watched a moment more, overwhelmed. She clasped Lisette’s hand, and Lisette let the curtains fall closed. “It’s a lot to take in at once,” Carina confessed.

Lisette squeezed her hand comfortingly, and Raen stepped closer. “We’re here for you, m’lady,” Lisette repeated. “Whatever you need—just ask.”

Carina slipped in to the sitting room a few minutes later. Riqua, Royster and Taru were hunched over a huge book that lay open on the table, and Royster was translating from a language Carina could not identify. They looked up as Carina entered, and Taru stepped to the side to make room for her around the table.

“Royster brought the books that he could from Westmarch,” Taru explained. “You have to understand—Gabriel sent messengers to us two nights ago. We had very little time to prepare, but we each brought what we could. Kolin and Jess have made another trip to the Citadel and to Westmarch to bring more things, now that we have a better idea of what we need. Thank the Lady that
vayash moru
can move with speed!”

“To know how to heal you, we have to understand what happened to bring you to where you are,” Royster said in a professorial voice that might have been explaining the lifecycle of a crustacean. “The thing is—no one has ever really looked at the Dark Gift that way before.

We know how people are brought across, but we don’t know why it changes them, or how the change happens.

“We’re certain that there’s magic involved—very old magic. And we think that it works—at least in part—like the shapeshifting magic of the
vyrkin
, only instead of shape, the
vayash
moru
magic changes the way the body functions. It’s all just conjecture at this point,”

Royster concluded with a sigh. “But it’s a fascinating study!”

Taru looked at Royster with affectionate annoyance. “Leave it to the scholar to get lost in his books,” she said, but her eyes softened her tone. “If Malesh had been able to bring you across completely, there’d be no changing it. The transformation would be permanent. But you’re in the middle—and that’s why we think there’s a chance to reverse it.”

Riqua met Carina’s eyes. “There is another option. We may find that it’s easier to complete the transformation than to undo it.”

“But you said that it was my healing magic that made it impossible to receive the Dark Gift.”

Riqua nodded. “There are stories… old stories… that tell of a mage losing his magic, or having it taken away. If we could find a way to extinguish the magic, we think the transformation would proceed on its own.”

Carina’s eyes widened. “But I wouldn’t be a healer anymore.”

“That’s right.”

Carina sat down in a chair near the fire. She looked down at her hands, and turned them palm up. “When being a healer cost me my family, when my father banished Cam and me, I don’t think even then I would have given it up if I could have. It’s too much a part of me. I don’t think that existing without it would be possible.” She knew her pain was clear in her face, although she found that she could not cry. “Goddess help me! I’d rather die.”

“That’s what Jonmarc thought you’d say,” Taru said. “That’s why we’ve focused all our efforts on trying to reverse what Malesh did. But you deserved to know all the options.” She paused. “We do have a couple of ideas on how to attempt a healing. Royster is convinced that the Flow has something to do with this. Lisette told us about how the Flow reached out to you at Winterstide, and how Raen led you down to the chamber below Dark Haven to try to heal the Flow.”

Carina nodded, remembering. The Flow was a great river of power that ran from the far north underneath Dark Haven and through the southern plains of Margolan and beyond. It had been damaged eleven years before, when the dark mage Foor Arontala tore the Soulcatcher orb, the prison of the Obsidian King’s spirit, from where it had been secured within the power of the Flow. That damage affected the magic that drew on the Flow’s power, gradually making it more unstable, aiding blood magic and impeding light magic. Of late, the Flow had become volatile, and Carina had seen the effects of that volatility on her own magic. “What do you have in mind?”

Taru took a deep breath. “Curing what Malesh did is beyond the normal scope of my healing. But if you’re willing, I want to try to tap into the Flow and channel it to magnify the healing energy.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t know what will happen. The Flow has been violently unstable. But I think Royster’s instincts are correct—the Flow is part of this, somehow.”

Carina met Taru’s eyes. “I’ll do whatever it takes. When do you want to start?”

A few minutes later, Carina sat in a chair facing Taru. Riqua, Royster and Lisette stood at a distance, watching closely. Taru took Carina’s hands in hers and closed her eyes, concentrating. Carina did the same, focusing her healing power on the bond Taru opened between them. Taru reached out her magic, opening herself to the Flow.

Carina felt the familiar tingle of the Flow’s power. It grew stronger, until the air around them crackled with strong magic. Carina fought down fear. She could feel the fluctuations in the Flow, random surges and drops that would make drawing on its power very unpredictable.

Carina focused her concentration on Taru, who was weaving her magic to the very core of Carina’s being, seeking to find and heal the tendrils of Malesh’s pollution. Taru’s power increased, and Carina stiffened, barely keeping herself from crying out as Taru probed at the changes that made Carina neither living nor dead.

A blinding flash of light crackled through the room, and with it, along the channels of magic, a searing blast. Carina heard a scream. The power of the blast threw her from her chair, knocking her across the room. Her head swam as if she had slammed against a rock, and the pathways of magic ached from the recoil. Carina opened her eyes as Royster bent over her.

“Are you all right?”

Carina nodded weakly, struggling against a throbbing reaction headache. Royster helped her sit. On the other side of the room, Riqua and Lisette knelt beside Taru, who lay sprawled near the broken pieces of her chair. With Royster’s help, Carina made her way to Taru’s side.

“She’s breathing,” Riqua said. She looked at Carina. “The Flow?”

Carina nodded, and wished she hadn’t as her head throbbed. “It’s as wild as when I went down to the catacombs. Healing magic doesn’t usually draw directly from the Flow the way other magic does. If it’s this difficult to manage healing, how is Tris fighting a war in Margolan?”

Riqua shook her head. “With great difficulty, I assume. Taru says that a number of Sisters have gone rogue and followed him as battle mages. He’ll need all the luck we can wish for him.” Taru stirred, and they turned their attention to her. Lisette lifted Taru easily and carried her to the divan.

“Not exactly what I planned,” Taru said with a weak smile. Carina clasped her hand.

“I’m sorry that you got hurt.”

Taru shrugged. “Not the first time I’ve paid a price for magic. Can you tell—did it make a difference?”

Carina closed her eyes and searched her power. The strange sense of floating within her own body that she had noticed when she first awoke remained strong as ever. “I don’t think so.” She managed a wan smile. “We could wait for daylight and see what happens if I open the curtains.”

Riqua frowned. “That’s not a good idea.” She looked at Royster. “If the Flow plays a role in this—and I agree that’s likely—we need to find a better way to channel it.”

Royster had a faraway look. “I have an idea. Come on. I want to check something I thought I saw in one of the old healing scrolls.”

They huddled around Royster and his books and scrolls until late into the night. Taru joined them, although she remained seated and looked pale. Carina realized that Taru and Royster had reversed their days and nights for her benefit and Riqua’s. Still, she could see the fatigue on their faces. Time wore on, with Taru compiling a list of books and scrolls for Kolin or Jess to bring from Westmarch or from the Citadel of the Sisterhood. Although Carina listened as the others argued, she still felt too overwhelmed to do more than answer when asked a direct question.

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