Jeanne G'Fellers - Sister Lost, Sister Found (27 page)

“You’re mad at far more than the clans,” said Garrziko. “And, yes, your adoptive raisers did well in keeping you talking. It has aided on a certain level. You’ve been able to function normally thus far.”

“You call double vision normal?” Rankil glared at the healer.

“Comparatively speaking, yes.” Garrziko strummed the chair’s curving arm. “I think it might do well to see what could occur without such guidance. It’s not something I typically show my patients, but you might benefit.” She rose in a manner that suggested she loathed anything besides utter repose. “Are you ready?”

“To leave here? Need you ask?” Rankil bounded into her boots.

“Leave your cloak,” said Garrziko with a lazy wave to the outer passage. “We can reach our destination through the inner tunnels. We’ll return for your wrap later. And leave your blade behind as well.” Garrziko seemed insistent. “It could bring trouble where we’re going.” She led the way through a maze of narrow passageways, suggesting Rankil memorize the course as key tunnels led to the cavern squares of all the Tekkroon colonies. When they were deep indeed inside the volcano’s belly, they paused at the barred, guarded entrance to a small cavern.

“You must understand,” Garrziko waited while the sentry unlocked the heavy gate. “I am not the same type of healer as Augustus. I am an emotional healer. I deal with diseases of the mind.”

“Diseases of the mind?” Rankil took a quick step back. “Are you saying I’m—”

“No, no. Quite the contrary, I intend to show you just how much in your right mind you actually are.” The guard swung the door back and Garrziko stepped through, looking back to insure it was secured behind them. “Dee?” she called. “You about?”

“Be with you shortly.”

“That’s fine.” Garrziko turned up a dimmed lantern by the entrance. “Did we beat everyone up?”

“Nearly,” called Dee, this time in a voice closer to their location. “Brighten things up for me, will you?”

“We will.” Garrziko pointed to a dim glow in the room’s center. “Help me turn up the lights and raise the wheel, Rankil. This place is dismal in the dark.”

Rankil did as asked, remaining silent, apprehensive and somewhat nervous that Garrziko might leave her in this barred, clean-smelling hole. But, when the flames brightened, and the lanterns were raised, the cavern became pleasant—the stone walls painted with vibrant outdoor scenes, the space attractively arranged with lounging sofas, chairs and tables, the stone underneath covered by rich rugs. It was a luxurious space, very unlike the simple furnishings in the majority of Tekkroon housing.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Dee stepped from one of several carved side chambers. She was an almost Autlach-short, older broadback with a stomach that declared her love of food and thin hair that could not hide the massive spider-web scar on the back of her head. “Ziko said you’d be visiting today. Have you breakfasted?”

“No.” Rankil still focused on the odd space she occupied. “Where are we? It has an infirmary’s smell.” She turned to Garrziko. “I don’t think I like it here. You’re not going to leave me, are you?”

“Only for the day.” Garrziko draped over one of loungers. “I’ll retrieve you when I return from my rounds.”

A sudden, cursing wail from one of the side chambers made Rankil grab for her absent knife.

“Don’t be alarmed, Rankil, is it?” Dee placed a laden tray on a side table. “That’s just Easton’s way of saying good morning.”

“Wha . . . what’s wrong with Easton?” The veins in Rankil’s temples throbbed in time with her quick pulse.

“The same as everyone else who inhabits this cavern.” Garrziko sipped from the mug Dee had given her. “Relax, I wouldn’t be dining if we were in peril.”

“How many live here?” Rankil’s eyes darted about the ornate chamber.

“Forty-three.” Garrziko blew the steam from her mug. “Twenty-nine broadbacks. Fourteen gentlewomen. Only twelve are allowed free roam of the common cavern. You’ll meet them soon enough. They’ll be rising as it suits them.”

“And you best eat before they do,” added Dee as she distributed rolls onto small plates. “Everyone here eats like it’s to be their last meal.” She grinned and patted her midsection. “Me included.”

“I’m not hungry.” Rankil swirled the contents of the mug warming her hands.

“Nonsense.” Dee laid a plate of rolls by Rankil’s elbow and took a seat in an opposite chair. “Everyone must eat.”

“But what about the others?” Rankil fingered a roll then licked away the sugar it had left on her hand. “Aren’t they allowed in the common area?”

“Only with an attendant,” stated Garrziko around a bite of her own breakfast. “You won’t have much to do with them. Easton is the one I really want you to meet. You and she have quite a bit in common.”

Dee turned to give Rankil a long, respectful look. “If you’ve been through half what Easton has you have my sympathies, as well as congratulations for persevering.” She glanced to Garrziko. “Survivor or not, Easton might well hurt her. Should I use the restraints?”

“Would be prudent,” said Garrziko. A shuffling sound turned the healer’s head, and she smiled, rising to greet the sound’s creator. A slim gentlewoman with frizzing hair stood in the doorway to her room. She approached the breakfast table, withdrawing when Garrziko extended a greeting hand toward her.

“Good morning, Shaedra. Meet Rankil.” Shaedra peered at Rankil with an expression somewhere between terror and fury. She took the plate and cup Dee offered her and settled at a table a safe distance away.

“Excellent, Shaedra,” praised the healer. “You’re becoming efficient at controlling your flight instinct.”

“This one is damaged goods, too,” Shaedra muttered in mid-attack of her meal. “She here to stay?”

“No, just visiting.” Dee placed a cloth napkin by Shaedra’s elbow. “And you’re not damaged goods, Shae.”

“All right then, I’m an overly cooked bit of meat.” Shaedra jerked back her robe to reveal the scars where her breasts had been. “They said burn witch burn, and that’s exactly what I did. Clear to the bone in a couple of spots. You ever been burned, girl?” She asked Rankil.

“A few times.” Rankil could see that three fingers on Shaedra’s left hand had been reduced to discolored nubs.

“Like this?” She held out the charred extremity.

“Rankil has other scars.” Garrziko placed her steady hand on Rankil’s arm. “She was raised Autlach.”

“Another Easton?” Shaedra took up her breakfast and scurried toward her room.

“There goes Shae, running like the scared hopper she is.” A towering broadback swept in from another room. “Ignore Shaedra’s foul manners, my young friend. We’ve all been burned in one way or another. Easton included. Shaedra merely forgets such things in her panic.” The tall woman plopped down on the foot of Rankil’s lounger and proceeded to pull on her boots, which, Rankil noted, were Powder Barrier standard issue.

“Rankil, meet Beverlic.” Dee passed Beverlic a plate and mug. “And she’s right about Shaedra. Her experiences won’t allow her to associate with others, including those who now care for her.”

“Severe incapacitating paranoia.” Garrziko pulled from her lounger, stretched, then shook out her kilt. “I have patients to see. Rankil, Dee will be your guide the rest of the day. Simply do as she says, especially around Easton. Bev, you are looking well this morning. How about enlightening our visitor with your reason for residing here.”

“I like the atmosphere.” Beverlic shrugged. “Beats the barracks, eh, junior.” She tugged Rankil’s rank patch.

“Your actual reason, Beverlic.” Garrziko drifted toward a barred passage. “Until evening,” she called back, and the bars slammed shut behind her.

“Lonely sound, isn’t it?” Beverlic traced the glaze on her roll. “Junior, I’m here because, well”—she cast Dee an exasperated look—“it’s the Mother’s injustice and my bane. I’m here because my mind can’t seem to stay where my body is.”

“It’s defined as flashbacks.” Dee rose to refill their mugs then redeposited herself in a nearby chair. “Beverlic sometimes can’t separate past events from the present. She relives them in graphic detail.”

“And they’re all gruesome battle memories.” Beverlic sighed. “I was a good officer in my day. But now I never know what might bring the memories on or how I’ll react to them. Lost my post and my family to it.” Beverlic ducked her head in embarrassment. “Any more, I can go for days that way.”

“Like a waking nightmare?” queried Rankil, alarmed by the realization her own traumatized mind occasionally cast similar flashes.

“Waking nightmare is a good description.” Dee rose as several more women emerged from their rooms. They were introduced, some acknowledging Rankil’s presence, others ignoring her entirely. Only one, a hollow-eyed gentlewoman terrorized by Rankil’s Autlach accent, became aggressive, and Dee and Beverlic removed her to a smaller common area deeper in the stone.

“Just until she calms.” Dee assured Rankil. “And it won’t be the first time she’s been removed for such behavior.”

Rankil began to understand why Garrziko had brought her to this disturbing place. She saw herself in many of the occupants. Shaedra’s distrust, Beverlic’s flashbacks, both were part of her own makeup. The conversation around her was light, even cheery, with everyone making light of their own maladies, but Rankil could not participate nor did she want to. The weight of her aching head threatened to pull it from her shoulders. Dee was there when the pain became blinding, placing a cold cloth on the back of Rankil’s neck while Beverlic shooed the others to the opposite end of the cavern.

“Rankil?” Dee held a cup to her acidy mouth, encouraging her to drink. “Garrziko thought you might need this.” The liquid had a bitter medicinal taste, but Rankil downed it, soon finding the pressure in her chest and head easing, so much so she momentarily dozed, awakening to Beverlic’s appraisal of her relaxed state.

“She’s better, Dee. Come have a see.” She leaned over Rankil, removing the cloth from her neck.

“I’m fine.” Rankil shook her head. It must have been her head, for it was attached, though numb and distant, to her shoulders.

“Yes, your color isn’t near as washed.” Dee held another cup to her mouth, just strong tea this time, and insisted she drink. “Get up and walk about while you do. It’ll clear your head.”

“Don’t believe my head has ever been so clear,” replied Rankil, but she stood up anyway and was pulled about by Beverlic.

“Ziko would be pleased by your reaction.” Beverlic propped her against the wall where Rankil leaned, panting, her head against the cool painted stone.

“Pleased?” Rankil peered at Beverlic from the corner of her eye.

“Yes, pleased.” Dee dabbed a cloth across Rankil’s temples. “A non-reaction would have indicated you were beyond help.”

“But the others?” Rankil turned until she faced the pudgy broadback. “Am I to sink to their—”

“Level of insanity, depth of withdrawal?” suggested Dee. “It appears not. Garrziko brought you here to shock your system, to force you into realizing you must take control.”

“Control?” The tea calmed Rankil’s turbulent stomach.

“Of yourself, dear girl.” Garrziko, who had been listening from a hallway, crossed the cavern to stand by Rankil’s side. “Your past is encroaching on your present, so much so your mind will eventually lose the ability to differentiate between the two.”

“Is that what causes my headaches?”

“That and simple stress.” Garrziko led Rankil to a lounger. “You have put a tremendous burden on yourself. You try to block out your tragic beginnings, but they keep coming back to leave you feeling unloved even when rejection is not the intention.”

“Love brings pain, and I’ll have no more of it.” The rehearsed words came from Rankil’s mouth, but now they had no meaning. “I’ll have—”

“One cannot live without love.” Garrziko sat sideways in an overstuffed chair, her legs thrown across one arm. “Didn’t you love Myrla?”

“Yes, and now she’s gone. And so is Kaelan and Jewel and baby Hestra.” Rankil’s chin rested heavy on her chest. “I couldn’t stop what happened to Kaelan and Jewel, but I still had Myrla and Hestra. My headaches all but stopped when we were together so it must have been right.”

“You held onto them because they were tangible,” said Dee. “They were a physical something to show your worth, that you were loved. When they were taken you felt rejected again.”

“But we were a family!” wailed Rankil, letting out a gut-deep sob. “A real family. I wasn’t the convenient slave, the pitied misplaced sister in need of basic teachings so she’d be acceptable to her own people. I was Rankil! Strong, steady Rankil! I found game when others returned empty-handed. I worked hard to make things right. And everything was falling into place. I was worth something. I was important! I was needed! And then . . . and then . . .” Rankil’s tired face began taking on a new, educated expression. “I held on too tight. Something had to give and no amount of work was going to stop it. I’ve always worked for something outside my reach, worked to keep away the beatings that came anyway, worked to keep away hunger that was always there, worked because I was trying to be an adult, and adults are supposed to work.”

“And now you’re still working.” Garrziko motioned behind Rankil’s back for Dee to ready a room. “You’re working to overcome the obstacles set before you since your arrival in this world.”