Keepers of the Flame (47 page)

Once
more the kernel of evil pulsed gray next to a red-beating heart, poisonous
beyond what they’d seen.

She
fought and she fought. Got nowhere. The web tendrils would reform, the fatal
seed send out more feelers.

Only
one thing to do, and she prayed and Sang that this would kill it. She cradled
the thing in her energy. Then she withdrew from the healing circle and
submerged herself in the raw Power of the healingstream. Shot out into the
universe with the kernel.

Zeres
came with her. Hovered near. Seemed to look at the stars and the galaxies and
the space between them. “Wondrous,” he sighed.
If I’d only known to tune my
own chimes to the real Song.
He died.

35

B
ri returned to
Lladrana with a thump. Collapsed. Knew she’d failed.

She’d
taken the evil into herself, could feel the pealike kernel.

She
had the sickness. Now she and her twin
must
find a cure if she was to
survive.

Sevair’s
arms lifted her and cradled her. He was wearing the impassive stone mask he
used to cover desperate emotion. He loved her and she—She’d lost.

Elizabeth’s
expression also disappeared behind a cool, distant, doctor mask, though her
eyes met Bri’s and begged for reassurance that all was fine.

Bri
closed her eyes.

And
saw her parents, clinging together, worried about their daughters, then
laughing in relief when they got the “phone call.” How they’d grieve, and
everything in her ached.

She
couldn’t go home. If the Snap happened, she couldn’t go. Nothing on Earth would
heal this, would it?

Maybe
it would, maybe Mother Earth would sense the wrongness and scourge it from Bri.
Yet that didn’t sound possible.

If
she stayed, would she trap Elizabeth, too? She couldn’t see Elizabeth leaving a
sick twin. So Bri would have taken both children from her parents. Awful,
awful, awful.

As
the darkness of exhaustion settled over her like a shroud, Bri knew she’d
fight. Elizabeth would fight. Eventually, when they had to disclose the
sickness to others, they would fight, too.

Would
she bring the entire Exotique team—more—down?

The
Dark would have definitely won.

B
ri felt cold.
She
was
cold, her hands, her skin, her lips. Cold inside, too. From
panic fear more than the effects of the terrible seed inside her.

Sevair
swung her up and took her outside to the Landing Field where Mud awaited. The
bright summer sun didn’t warm her, nor did it abate the new shock of the Castle
folk in losing two more Marshalls.

The
passage of air with sweet smells and Sevair’s arms didn’t warm her. Nor did his
concern or that of her housekeeper-maid. Bri was tucked into bed. Hot tea was
provided and Sevair remained, chafing her hands, ready to stay beside her all
day if she wished.

She
wanted to unburden her fears to someone, but contrarily didn’t want to speak of
the sickness, as if talking about it would make it true. After a swallow of tea
that seemed weak and cool, she set it on the bedside table. “You should return
to your work. Give a report to the city and townmasters,” she said.

He
shrugged. “They’ll already have heard the news.”

Curving
her lips, she said, “I’m fine. Just in shock.”

“The
battlefield is no place for you.” He squeezed her hands until she squeaked,
apologized and did a circuit of the room. Not looking at her, he said, “Promise
me you won’t insist on fighting again.”

“I
promise I won’t fly onto a battlefield to fight horrors again. I should be up
at the Castle debriefing and working with the medica team.”

“You
are exactly where you should be.” He sat beside her again, took her hands. She
didn’t know how long she could mask her complete and utter fear from him,
control herself, so she lifted his hands to her lips, kissed them and saw
surprise bloom in his eyes, and let them go. “Go to work, Sevair.”

He
scowled, studied her face, then nodded. “Very well.”

She
thought he sounded relieved. How much did he really care for her? What of those
dramatic words he’d said to her after he’d killed the dreeth? “Go,” she said,
and lowered her eyelashes. She kept them open the merest crack because she
didn’t want to be in the dark.

He
kissed her brow. “I’ll go.” He hesitated, spoke very gently. “We carried Zeres
back here and placed him in the square, where Amee blessed him by taking him.”

How
selfish of her, to think of herself and not the old, funny man who’d helped her
so. And now that she did she was overwhelmed by feeling—grief, fear,
desperation. She scrambled around for the handkerchief she kept under her
pillow, mopped at her face, kept her head averted. “Thank you very much.”

“You’re
welcome. I’ll carve a plaque for him.” A brief touch on her hair and Sevair
walked to the door. “Tonight we’ll have soup and freshly baked bread.”

“Yum,”
Bri said with only a little waver in her voice. Soup wouldn’t cure this mess.
“Can you send the housekeeper away? Tell her to go visit friends? I want some
privacy.”

She
felt his gaze on her, heard the little spikes in his Song. How much was the
kernel affecting
her
Song already? Was he sensitive enough to hear any
changes? Of course he was. “I’m not used to servants. I like being alone.” Some
rare times, but this was one of them. If she wasn’t alone she would spew fear
and desperation all over someone.

The
floorboards creaked as he returned, another soothing stroke of her head,
another kiss on her temple.

“I’ll
tell your servant to go,” he said. Then he was gone and she was tired and very
scared and alone. How much time did she have? She was an Exotique, and
Powerful, and a medica, so that might slow the disease down. Who knew? If she
took a nap, would she ever wake up?

Her
eyelids grew heavy. The last image she had was of Sevair and how he’d looked
when he said he’d fight for her. Knew he would. But this was something she’d
have to beat alone. Healer, heal thyself. If she had the time. If she had the
chance. If she had the strength.

When
she awoke, Nuare was looking at her with a tough and considering eye.
You
have the evil sickness inside you.

Bri
felt all the blood drain from her head. She pushed herself from bed and onto
her feet, ignoring the sweep of dizziness. “You’re in my bedroom.” She saw the
floor-to-ceiling window open.

A
click of the beak.

Of
course that was obvious, but Bri was trying to come to grasp with her fate. She
straightened. “You said once you’d kill me if I had the taint of evil. Are you
going to kill me?”

Nuare’s
eyes widened. She blinked, tilted her head.
No
.

Breath
whooshed from Bri. She was still facing very hard facts, but having a friend
kill her didn’t seem to be in her immediate future.

Watching
her slyly, Nuare picked up a claw and cleaned it with her sharp beak.
Now
you will have to pay attention to that which is around you and learn.

You
can’t cure me, then?
Bri’s throat was too closed to speak, and the quick leap of hope plunged.

No
. Blinking
again, Nuare said.
I could rid you of the nut and the web from it, rip it
from you, but it would kill you.

Bri
coughed. “That’s the general result.”

You
did well today. All of your fighting. Continue to fight
. Nuare walked
over to the long, open casement window. Without another word, the roc shot into
the sky and away.

Bri
staggered back to bed and curled onto it. This fear was horrible, but she
didn’t know how to make it go away. She had to face the facts, though, and she
had to have help if she was going to destroy this thing.

Much
as she hated to, it was time to tell Elizabeth.

Elizabeth!

Hmm?
Her sister’s
answer was absent.
I would have thought you’d be up here at the Castle,
Elizabeth said.
The Assayer and his journeymen and I are dissecting the
mutant soul-sucker. From the looks of it, this may be a very complicated construct
of a monster, not easily duplicated.

That’s
good. Elizabeth, can you come to Castleton, please? I need you.

Ayes,
I’ll be there in a bit.

Elizabeth,
I need you now!
Then she just let go. Allowed the hysterical shriek bubbling through her out,
into the tower, echoing through her mind.

I’m
coming!

Curling
into a tight ball—as if she could deflect danger that way when it was already
inside her!—Bri shoved her fist against her lips and tried to think through
terror.

Now
she was stronger—no, more rested, she could already feel the sickness sapping
her strength—she reached for the healingstream. It flooded her, and the little
tendril stopped growing, but was not defeated.

Then
Elizabeth was pounding up the stairs.
What is it?

Bri
straightened, looked into her sister’s eyes. “I have the sickness.”

“No!”
Elizabeth said.

“Yes,
and I can’t stop it.”

Color
drained from Elizabeth’s face. With trembling hands she examined Bri’s eyes,
took her pulse, checked her heart.

Then
they were linked together and scrutinizing Bri’s body and the evil kernel with
the sprouting tendril.

Elizabeth
breathed deeply. “Calm,” she said and Bri knew she meant it for herself, too.

“All
right, together we link to your healingstream,” Elizabeth said.

Bri
had lost the rush of her source, had closed the door, and now fumbled for the
healingstream as never before. Elizabeth summoned her starfire and Bri felt its
heat inside her, cleansing her. Bri added her healingstream to batter the
kernel.

Nothing
affected it.

“A
shield,” Elizabeth said. Sweat trickled down her temples. “Let’s encase it in a
forcefield. We can do that.”

They
couldn’t destroy it. Bri heard the hysterical gibbering in the back of her
mind, locked it down. Following Elizabeth’s lead, she surrounded the seed with
pressure to keep it from growing. Elizabeth’s starfire and Power enveloped it
first, then Bri added hers.

Then
they sat and stared at each other. Bri said the words neither wanted to
acknowledge. “It won’t stay that small forever.” She put a fist to her chest.
“I can feel it struggling to grow. What are we going to do?”

Elizabeth’s
gaze was as fearful as her own. “I don’t know.” She pressed her lips together,
then spoke. “We’ll find a way to kill it.”

Bri
shrugged. “I don’t think we can.”

Waving
her hands, Elizabeth said, “How did you get it?”

Confession
time. “When we attempted to heal Zeres, I tried to take his sickness as my
own.”

“Empathic
healing. Our gift hasn’t ever worked like that,” Elizabeth’s words were sharp
bullets.

“I
know. But…but…it was one thing we hadn’t tried, and Zeres had almost destroyed
Broullard’s…”

“This
goes back to Broullard!” Elizabeth rubbed her temples. “It’s been a hideous
day. One of the worst of my life. Faucon’s grieving, the Castle people are
grieving, you’re grieving.”

Bri
guessed they weren’t mentioning the awful battle. “You’re grieving.”

Elizabeth
swallowed. “I lost my emotional distance for sure.”

“Happens
occasionally.”

“Yes.”

“Zeres
didn’t deserve to have that horrible thing inside him.”

Elizabeth
went to the basin of water and dipped her hankie and washed. “Neither do you.
Neither do I. The question is, what are we going to do about it?”

“We’ve
trained medicas, but we never found a cure—a vaccine or pill people could
take.”

“Don’t
you think I know that!” Elizabeth snapped. Bri could almost see her grabbing
for her professionalism. Her back rose and fell with deep breaths, then she
turned. “Natural organisms—bacteria, viri, yes, our culture has found ways to
destroy them, ‘cure’ patients. But evil? The Dark? How can we find a cure for that?
A ‘good’ pill?” She came and sat down on the bed, put her arm around Bri. “It’s
as if the Dark can’t mutate living organisms, can’t have this sickness be
contagious. A boon for us.”

“Right.”
Bri licked her dry lips. “I’ve been wondering about the Snap,” she said softly.

Elizabeth
stiffened.

“If
the Snap comes, how can we return home with this thing in me?” Bri whispered,
touching between her breasts.

“We
can’t.” Elizabeth’s voice was unsteady, then she repeated the words more
strongly. “We can’t. Earth can’t provide a cure for this disease. If it could
have I’d have convinced someone to send us back and return with a medical
miracle.”