The Exile and the Sorcerer (32 page)

While the short winter’s day drew to a close, the two women sat chatting in the parlour. The clear skies of the morning were gone. Clouds had blown over from the east and a stiff wind had sprung up. Tevi shivered, hearing bursts of sleet splattering against the windows, a reminder that winter was not over.

She lazed comfortably in her chair by the fireside with two squirrels asleep on her lap. Jemeryl was an attentive audience, and Master Sarryle was an amusing topic for conversation, now that he was far away. A simple description of him ordering a meal at an inn could be guaranteed to entertain anyone.

“I watched him do it. Then he called the waiter over and said, ‘Young man, do you consider thirty-six peas to constitute an adequate portion?’” Tevi managed a fair impression of the old man.

“You mean he counted them?”

“Every time. Luckily, he was never given rice.”

“What happened?”

“Well, it didn’t help when the waiter offered to get a ruler so he could measure the length of the sausages.”

“He hit the roof?”

“No. Irony was lost on the man. He said yes. In the end, he had the innkeeper, the chef, and half the staff around the table. They cooked him a fresh meal, with double potions of everything. Sarryle then said he wasn’t hungry anymore and went to bed. I thought they were going to lynch him.”

“In your place, I’d have offered to get them a rope,” Jemeryl said, laughing.

Tevi grinned and continued with the tale of her travels. She was finding it increasingly difficult to reconcile the woman she was getting to know with the villagers’ tales. She did not see how anyone could spend five minutes in Jemeryl’s company without liking her, but she had noticed that the mainland people had a peculiar attitude towards sorcerers. Many spoke of them as if they were not properly human. Tevi had already learnt that Jemeryl had a lively sense of humour. Perhaps the villagers had taken her too literally, not ready to credit a sorcerer with being able to make jokes.

For her part, Tevi found Jemeryl very good company, a feeling that seemed to be reciprocated. Sitting and chatting by the fire had Tevi completely at ease. It was hard to remember when she had last felt so content. Jemeryl’s voice was light and clear, with a rich nasal burr of an accent. Tevi was not familiar enough with the Protectorate to place it, but it sounded easy on her ear. She found herself wishing Jemeryl would say more so she could listen. It would be interesting, when the bandage was removed, to see her and match a face to the voice.

No doubt the villagers were already working on stories about the young mercenary who went into the castle and was never seen again. Tevi suspected some would be quite disappointed when she returned, whole and healthy.

*

Tevi’s story ended with her arrival in the valley. Harrick’s team of misfits provoked their share of witticisms. She also made brief mention of the villagers. Jemeryl suspected that Tevi was being tactfully vague about their gossip.

Jemeryl stretched back and looked about the room. She was surprised to see how dark it had become. Beyond the firelight, thick shadow filled the corners. Even the squirrels were sleeping. At the snap of her fingers, the window shutters closed. The sound of wind over the battlements stopped abruptly.

“What’s happened?” Tevi asked, sounding curious rather than alarmed.

“I’ve just fastened the shutters. It’s night.”

“Already?”

“I lost track of time as well. It’s been an unusual day.” Jemeryl took a deep breath. “I think we’re ready to take off the bandage and examine your eyes.”

Tevi’s hands tensed. “All right.”

Jemeryl leaned over and squeezed Tevi’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. I did a good job on your eyes.”

“I’m sure you did. It’s not that I don’t trust you, but I don’t know what will happen if my sight isn’t restored. The mercenaries could refuse me a pension, as I got the injury in an unauthorised venture.”

“You’re not going to need the pension—not for a long time.” Jemeryl stood and took Tevi’s hand. “Come on. It will be better if we go to your room, where there’s no firelight, while I do a few tests. Then we can come back in here.”

In the small side room, Tevi sat on the edge of the bed. Jemeryl removed the bandage and lightly touched her fingertips to Tevi’s eyelids. The faint electric currents of nerves at the back of her retina were directly perceptible to Jemeryl’s extended senses. Everything seemed fine. Jemeryl sat beside Tevi and twisted sideways so that she faced her patient.

“I’m going to make three small balls of light: a red, a blue, and a green. They should all appear the same size and have sharply defined edges. Tell me if you see them.” Jemeryl gently rippled the currents in the sixth dimension to create the effect she had described.

“Yes. I can see them. Just like you said.” The joy in Tevi’s voice was unmistakable.

“Right. I’m now going to merge the three coloured balls to make a white one. I’ll move it to where it won’t shine directly into your eyes.”

The lights merged. Slowly, Jemeryl started to raise the level of illumination. Tevi’s outline became faintly visible, then the bed and the floor, but just at the point when the light touched the far wall, Tevi gave a gasp and screwed her eyes tight with a look of panic.

Jemeryl doused the light immediately. “What’s wrong, Tevi?”

“There’s too much.” Tevi’s voice was raw and tight.

“Does it hurt?”

“No, but it looks all wrong.”

Jemeryl matched Tevi in despair. She had been so sure the reconstruction had gone well. “What did you see?”

“Things were where they shouldn’t be, all over the place.”

Jemeryl thought furiously. “That sounds as if a nerve has been misconnected. Wait a few minutes and we’ll try again. If you can give me a better idea of what you’re seeing, I should be able to correct the fault. Let me know when you’re ready.”

Tevi’s hand clasped Jemeryl’s arm. “I’m all right. It wasn’t painful, but it threw me. “

Once again, Jemeryl gradually increased the light. “Now. Tell me what you can see that’s strange.”

Tevi let go of Jemeryl and gripped the edge of the mattress, keeping her head very still. “I’m looking straight ahead, but I can see the floor and the ceiling, my knees, your shoulder, and there’s too much wall.” Again, her eyes squeezed shut.

Inspiration hit Jemeryl with a thump. She studied her patient in astonishment. The unexpected snags while reconstructing Tevi’s eyes at last made sense. Abrak’s potion had not been the cause, although the truth was just as surprising.

“Can you fix it? Do you know what’s wrong?” Tevi’s voice held an edge of panic.

“I know what
was
wrong.”

“Was? But they still aren’t right.”

“No. Your eyes are fine now. The problem with them was in the past, and I’m not referring to the crystallisation.”

“What...when?”

“It’s known as tunnel vision. In rebuilding your eyes, I’ve inadvertently cured it.”

“Cured?”

“Even before you fought the basilisk, you had defective vision. You only saw out of the centre of your eyes. The nerves to the outer segments were damaged. I guess you were born like it and never realised you weren’t seeing properly.”

“My eyes were fine.”

“I don’t think they were. While I was rebuilding them, I hit a few unexpected snags with your eyes. I put them down to something weird about the crystallisation, but they would tie in with tunnel vision. More to the point, what you just described seeing would be considered perfectly normal by anyone with healthy eyesight.”

Tevi sat in silence while Jemeryl’s words sank in. “You mean that everyone sees the world like this all the time? It’s awful. How do they cope?”

Jemeryl laughed, mainly with relief. “It’s just what you’re used to. Once you get the hang of it, a wide peripheral vision is a useful thing to have—especially, I would have thought, for someone in your profession.”

*

Some time passed before Tevi was able to open her eyes without being overwhelmed by nausea. It took a conscious effort on her part not to try focusing on the entire room simultaneously. She needed Jemeryl’s assistance to get back to the parlour, walking with her eyes closed. Jemeryl dimmed the fire to a dull red glow that illuminated without casting any harsh, bright light.

Tevi sat uneasily in her chair, taking quick peeks at her surroundings while trying to keep as still as possible. Every time she moved, the room whirled. Only by a very slow, cautious effort was she able to turn and examine the sorcerer. The subdued firelight showed a young, triangular face surrounded by unruly auburn curls. Dark amber shadows were cast in the hollows of Jemeryl’s eyes and cheeks. A lopsided grin completed the impish effect.

“I’d wondered what you looked like.”

“Well, don’t say whether I’m better or worse than you imagined. It gives grounds for offence either way.”

“Can I say you look a lot better than the villagers implied?”

“You mean I haven’t got a hooked nose, fangs, and bloodshot eyes?”

Heedless of the dignity of her status, Jemeryl’s appearance was highly informal. One leg was stretched out, while the other was pulled up on the seat. Her arm rested along the back of her chair, with a slender, long-fingered hand dangling loosely at the end. She was wearing a shapeless white shirt, several sizes too big, with sleeves rolled back to the elbows. Tevi thought that Jemeryl’s looks, if not exactly as imagined, accorded very well with her easygoing manner.

“You’re younger than I expected. I could tell by your voice you weren’t old, but I still had a picture in my mind.” Tevi studied the sorcerer. “Do you genuinely look like that, or have you altered your appearance?”

Jemeryl laughed. “I’m really, truly only twenty-two. Using magic to change the way you look is seen as very immature. I’ll admit to combing my hair from time to time—not that it does much good.”

“If she was going to muck about with magic, wouldn’t you expect better results than this?” Klara said, from her habitual perch on Jemeryl’s chair.

“Oh, I would say she...” Tevi’s mouth went dry; her stomach flipped over.

Jemeryl’s face was not one of refined classical beauty. Such a face could not have taken the mischievous grin that lit her features. Yet as Tevi felt her heart pounding against her ribs, she knew that Jemeryl’s appearance was altogether much too much to her liking. Almost against her will she found herself picking out the details: the belt pulling the shirt in around a slim waist, Jemeryl’s finely formed hands, and the small dark hollow at the base of her throat.

“What?” Jemeryl asked.

“Pardon?”

“What would you say? You didn’t finish your sentence.”

“Oh...nothing.”

“It’s all right. You’re allowed to have an opinion about me. After all, I’ve been watching you for the last couple of days, and I’ve formed some opinions of my own. If you like, I’ll sit beside you and tell you what they are.”

Tevi did not think about Jemeryl’s words. Her only coherent idea was a desperate hope that mind reading was not one of the sorcerer’s skills. She had no desire to discover Jemeryl’s response to the uncontrolled emotions churning inside her.

She could feel Jemeryl’s eyes as if they were deliberately trying to catch hers. Rather than risk that happening, Tevi twisted back to the fire and was swamped by nausea as the room leapt cartwheels around her. Her lips pulled back in a grimace and she scrunched her eyes shut.

After all her plans to avoid personal contact, she had allowed herself to become far too keen on Jemeryl and had not realised it until the moment she set eyes on her.
Just because you were blind to the world didn’t mean you had to be blind to what was going on inside you.
Tevi cursed herself as a fool. She was in trouble. She was a heartbeat away from being in love—with someone it was far too dangerous to offend.

*

At the other side of the room, Jemeryl was waiting for Tevi’s response to her overture. Part of her was confident that Tevi would welcome the offer to sit beside her, and from there, things would progress in a predictable, and very enjoyable, direction. Part of her was gnawed by agonised apprehension. Butterflies in the stomach did not begin to describe it. Jemeryl found herself praying for a smile. Instead, she saw Tevi’s expression switch to one of pain.

“Are you all right, Tevi?”

“I moved too fast. It upsets my stomach. Are you sure everyone sees like this?” Tevi said quickly.

“Everyone with normal vision.”

“I guess I’ll have to get used to it.”

And I guess I’ll have to improve my timing,
Jemeryl commented to herself.
Try waiting until she’s not feeling sick
. Aloud, she said, “I could block off your peripheral vision, but I’d be loath to do that. You should give it a good try before you make any decisions.”

“It’s strange to think that all my life, I just assumed everyone saw things the same way as me.” Tevi’s voice was strained.

“Didn’t you notice that other people could see more of what was around them?”

“Not really. Although some things now make sense. My teachers were always telling me to watch my opponent’s feet out of the corner of my eye. I never knew what they meant.”