The Alton Gift (36 page)

Cario, I
am here
!

During the fraction of an instant when Marguerida paused, caught in the joy that always arose in her when in intimate contact with her beloved, Lew sensed a subtle wrongness in the blood pouring from Mikhail's wound. Acrid… subtly malignant. He had never tasted anything like it before.

Lew felt his daughter's sharp mental focus waver. In some way he could not understand, the physical wrongness was affecting her
laran
.

Marja!

Lew gathered himself to dissolve their mental bond, to somehow free her from the miasma that even now worked its way through her mind toward her body.

BREAK!

The mental command, like the ringing of an enormous bell, shattered the rapport. Lew's eyes flew open. Marguerida swayed on her knees. Her eyes showed as gleaming crescents between half-closed, vibrating lids. Her face had gone so pale that her lips had turned white. Covered in blood, the shadow matrix flashed crimson, as if it drank in the gore.

Istvana Ridenow hurried over. Her naked stars tone flared into blue-white brilliance. Laurinda, her face furrowed with concern, followed a step behind.

"The wound is poisoned," Istvana said in a voice that rang with a Keeper's authority. "If you close the wound, you will seal the pioson inside Mikhail's body and make things worse."

"No…" Shuddering, Marguerida opened her eyes.

A look passed between Istvana and Laurinda. Laurinda nodded, a brief inclination of her head. "I am no healer," Laurinda said, with quiet modesty. "I leave the matter in your hands, Istvana, and will lend you whatever aid I can."

"Thank you,
vat leronis
. Lew, you must take Marja away," Istvana said. "Marguerida,
chiya preciosa
, there is no time to lose. Let us have the care of him. We will save him for you if we can."

So had the Keeper Callina spoken to Lew as she held the broken form of his wife in her arms after the Sharra disaster. And Marjorie had died…

Numbly, Lew pulled Marguerida to her feet. She resisted only a little. Tremors shook her body. Any moment now, she would faint. He could not manage her weight with only one arm.

Marja dearest, come with me. You can do nothing here.

I should have stopped it! I should have killed Francisco myself-
—

She didn't know what she was saying, but he could not find it in his heart to say so.

Come away
, he repeated silently.
Istvana will tend to him, and call you if-
—
when it is time to help. You must rest and be strong
.

For a long moment she searched his eyes, as if he were a stranger and not her father. He might hold her and touch her mind with his
laran
, and yet some part of her, perhaps the essence of who Marguerida Alton-Hastur was, had gone where he could not follow. Such was the unbridgeable gulf between parent and adult child.

The moment passed. Behind them, people milled about the Chamber. Cisco shouted orders for the disposition of his father's body. Domenic recovered enough to go look after Alanna.

Marguerida allowed Lew to take her through the hallway and up the stairs to the Alton quarters. All the while, Lew thought that no man could survive a poisoned wound like that, not without Terran medicine. But the Terrans, for good or ill, had left Darkover and taken the dream of a union of the two worlds with them.

arguerida paused on the threshold of a chamber high in the old Comyn Tower. In all the years she had lived in Thendara, she had never explored more than a few dusty rooms on the lowest floors, for the Tower had been abandoned for lack of a working circle decades ago. When it became apparent that the newly formed Keepers Council would need psychically insulated quarters, she had supervised the cleaning and refurbishing of the kitchen, living quarters, and a matrix laboratory or two. She had never intended to create a hospital as well.

Istvana had insisted on bringing both Mikhail and Marilla here for
laran
healing, by far the most effective treatment available for either of them. It was only by the most extraordinary good fortune that there were so many skilled
leroni
present.

Mikhail's room was light and airy at this season, although in winter it would probably be miserably damp and cold. Pressing her lips together, Marguerida told herself Mikhail would not be here for long.

He will recover, he must
… She swallowed, and her knees threatened to buckle under her, but she steadied herself. She could not afford weakness, not now.

Mikhail's younger sister, Liriel of Arilinn Tower, looked up from

M

where she sat at his bedside. Marguerida felt the pulse of healing
laran
and caught a flash of blue light from the other woman's starstone.

Liriel got to her feet, moving with surprising grace for such a large woman, and took Marguerida into her arms. It was an unusually close contact for a telepath, but Liriel had always been comfortable with physical affection, and the two women had loved each other from their first meeting. For a heartbeat, Marguerida leaned into the warm soft strength of her sister-in-law.

"How is he?" Marguerida asked, pulling away. She dared not say more or her fragile control would shatter. Mikhail needed her to be strong, now more than ever, as did her children. She would
not
give way to tears or hysterics.

"It is as we feared." Liriel drew Marguerida aside. "My brother's wounds are most definitely poisoned. We have not yet identified the precise agent, for the Dry Towners use many plant derivatives. That is undoubtedly where Francisco obtained the poison."

"What about the laboratory equipment in the Terran Headquarters?" Marguerida said. "Could we use it to analyze the poison and find an antidote?"

"We do not have the knowledge to operate such equipment, assuming it is still operational," Liriel said, tucking a stray strand of her thick red hair back into place. Faint lines of fatigue marked her round face, and her eyes were shadowed with anxiety. In a voice edged with frustration, she added, "Do you?"

Marguerida hesitated. Her training as a University Scholar had been in musicology, not chemistry or medicine. She had never entered that part of the Terran base except as a patient. Yet she was not ignorant of research procedures; she could use a computer as well as any Federation citizen. Surely, manuals and written instructions must be stored in the records.

"Give me a sample of the poison," she said, lifting her chin, "and I will figure it out."

Liriel shook her head. "I'm sorry if I misled you. It's not so simple a matter as identifying the agent and creating an antidote. The poison has bonded to the marrow of his bones."

Marguerida's heart stuttered.

"Ironically, the depth of Mikhail's wounds worked in his favor,"

Marion Zimmer Bradley
"
Deborah. Ross

Liriel went on. "for he bled heavily, as you know, and that washed much of the poison out of his body before it could act. At the same time, he has a lost a lot of blood."

"Can nothing be done?"

Liriel regarded her with an uncompromising, level gaze. "Mikhail's condition is grave, we cannot deny it, but there is still hope. Istvana and I have already made good progress in tracing the course of the poison and stimulating his own body to produce new blood. That will take time, and meanwhile we have lowered his bodily functions, very much the way the monks at St. Valentine's do while in deep meditation. Do not despair,
breda
. My brother is a strong, healthy man, with a great will to live, and that must work in his favor."

"I—I would like to sit with him."

Liriel gave Marguerida's arm a squeeze. Her worried expression lightened into a warm smile. "I think that would be an excellent idea. Even if he does not respond overtly, I am sure he will feel your presence, the bond between you is so strong."

Her eyes stinging, Marguerida nodded. She heard the click of the door latch as Liriel departed and then took the empty seat beside Mikhail's bed.

His wounds had been bandaged, his hair combed. She touched the stubble along his jaw, smoothed the strands of frosted gold. One hand rested on top of the sheet, where the ring of Varzil Ridenow sparkled. Mikhail usually wore a glove on that hand, even as Marguerida did to cover her imprinted matrix. She remembered how he once used the ring for healing.

If only he could use it to heal himself
… Her heart ached as if it, too, had been torn apart. A pulse throbbed in her temples. She slipped off her glove and took her husband's hand between her own.

"Mikhail,
precioso
…"

Closing her eyes, she reached for the special link they had shared from the first awakening of their love.

Dearest heart, I am here
…

Dimly, she felt a flicker of response, Mikhail's distinctive mental touch. The next instant, it faded. Again she reached out, but this time she sensed nothing. His life forces were perilously low. His
laran
nodes glowed dully, like dying embers.

Where have you gone, beloved? I know you can hear me. I know that somewhere, you are trying to get back to me. You must not give up, not after everything we've been through together!

Her thoughts flew to their journey back through Darkover's past, to their strange meeting with the legendary Varzil the Good, who had given Mikhail his ring, to their battle in the Overworld against the malevolent spirit of Ashara, who had overshadowed Marguerida as a child. Marguerida remembered thinking that as long as they were together, they could weather any crisis.

Try as she might, she could not reach his mind, as she had so many times before. He lived, his chest rose and fell, and the essential spark still burned within him, but the man she loved, heart and soul and mind, was slipping away. Shadows rose up to engulf him, darkening with each passing moment.

Marja
? The voice was familiar, compelling. It dragged her back toward the light. She did not want to answer. Instead, she longed to sink into the darkness where Mikhail waited for her.

"Marguerida, wake up. It is time to go."

She lifted her head and blinked in the brightness of the afternoon. Her father stood beside her, his single hand on her shoulder. Behind him, Liriel and Istvana waited, their faces expectant.

"We must let the healers continue their treatment," Lew said, gently lifting her to her feet. "Let me take you back to your chambers, where you can rest."

No
! she thought wildly. I
cannot leave him! What if he were to wake, and I was not here
?

"My dear, we will summon you immediately," Istvana said. "Listen to your father's wisdom. Let your family comfort you."

And leave us to do our work.

With an effort, Marguerida admitted that the other woman was right. There was nothing more she could do. She must leave Mikhail in the hands of those who could help him.

"Is there any news of
Domna
Marilla?" she asked without thinking, not because she really wanted to know, but because as chatelaine of Comyn Castle, she was responsible for everyone in it.

"Illona is tending to her," Istvana said, "along with Lady Linnea and Darius-Mikhail Zabal. You see, there are enough of us to do all that is necessary."

Numbly, Marguerida allowed herself to be led away. She hardly saw the corridors and stairways until they arrived at her familiar quarters. Domenic was deep in conversation with Rory and Yllana in the family parlor. The room, usually bright and cheerful, looked subdued. Gloom hovered in the corners. The flowers in the center of the table had wilted, their petals browning around the edges.

All three looked up, anxious for news about their father. Gathering herself, Marguerida gave them a brief version of her conversation with Liriel. She tried to sound optimistic: Mikhail was receiving the very best care that matrix technology could provide; Istvana and the others would keep searching until they had found a cure; they had every reason to hope.

Rory and Yllana accepted her reassurances, but not Domenic. She could not read his reaction; he'd gone back into secretive mode. He had always been a strange child, with a maturity beyond his years.

"I will take this news to Alanna, as well," Domenic said.

"Yes, that would be a kindness," Marguerida replied, distracted. "And I suppose we should send word to Rafael and Gabriel."

It was, Marguerida thought, just as well that Alanna was keeping to herself these days. At least she would not have to deal with the girl's tantrums on top of everything else.

With a quick nod, Domenic ushered his siblings out, leaving Marguerida and Lew their privacy. In a daze, Marguerida searched for something to do, some task to take her mind off the fear and pain. She picked a flower from the vase and began pulling off the dead petals.

"Come here, my Marja." When Lew put his arm around her, something inside Marguerida gave way. She had been holding herself together for so long now, fighting off her fears. Sobs racked her body. She buried her face against his shoulder.

What will I do without him
? she cried out silently.
I love him so much! He is my heart, my very life
!

Take heart, daughter
, Lew said gently, speaking to her mind with his.
Liriel has said there is hope. She is a
leronis,
learned in these matters, and she too loves Mikhail

If only I had stopped them from fighting
! Marguerida's mood shifted like quicksilver from torment into fury. Her eyes flashed, as if ignited by golden fires.

I
should have killed Francisco myself
!

She could have done it, too. Under the right conditions, fueled by unbridled anger, the Alton Gift could be lethal. She possessed the Gift in full measure. She'd used it in self-defense before against bandits, against Terrans. If only she had intervened while she still had a chance, Mikhail might not be lying there, wounded, poisoned, dying—

Lew's voice, now grimly serious, brought Marguerida's thoughts back to the present. "
Chiya
, you are distraught or you would not think such a thing."

"Don't patronize me!" Marguerida leaped to her feet. "Or prattle to me about scruples! If it had been Dio, and you could have saved her, would you have hesitated, even for an instant?"

"It's not as simple as that," he said. "Using
laran
against Dio's cancer is not the same as using it to strike down a man—and a Comyn, at that. The first oath we swear in the Towers is
never to enter another mind save to heal or help
—"

"That is nonsense, and you know it, Father!" She should not be picking a fight with him, of all people, not so soon after his heart attack, but she could not help herself. What had gotten into him?

Words spilled from her mouth. "We have a responsibility, yes, an
obligation
to use our talents for the greater good! Do you think men like Francisco would obey such rules?"

"It is not a matter of standing by while tyrants and assassins commit unspeakable crimes, unopposed." Lew shook his head. "Those same weapons you would use for good carry with them an even greater potential for harm. The foundation of our society, the Compact, was designed to prevent such abuses."

"Oh, spare me the lecture!" Marguerida strode to the cabinet at the far side of the room, poured herself a goblet of
ravnet
and drained it. "Why is this even an issue? You yourself used the Alton Gift for the greater good. We both did, after the battle of Old North Road. How could we have done any else?"

"Gods, daughter!" he cried, as if she'd struck him. "Do you think I'm
proud
of what I did for Darkover?"

Realizing she was on the verge of losing her temper entirely, Mar-guerida turned away and took a deep breath. The muscles of her neck and shoulders ached. Mikhail would have rubbed them into delicious relaxation.

"At any rate," she said tightly, "that is all history now. We cannot change what happened, then or now. The best we can do is forget the whole matter."

"We cannot just go on as if the issue of
laran
abuse had never been raised," he said, in that infuriating, persistent tone. "Sooner or later, whether we like it or not, the charges must be answered."