The Shifter (17 page)

NINETEEN

“D
anello!” I dove forward as he collapsed, catching him before he smacked his head on the hard floor. I pushed up his shirt, searching for his wound. The guard drew back his sword, too far away for me to get a hand on him, but close enough to stab us both. Kione launched himself sideways, tackling the guard and knocking him to the floor right next to me.

With one hand tight against Danello’s middle, I reached the other toward the guard’s flesh. I
drew
, and Danello’s pain filled me, burning around my middle like I’d run ten times around Geveg. I
pushed
it into the guard who’d stabbed him. I savored his scream, even as it sickened me. For once, I was glad there were no Healers left to heal. The guard fell to the floor and was still.

“Danello?” I cradled his head in my lap.

“Ny…uh…”

“Easy, don’t try to speak yet.” I stroked his hair. “I’m so sorry. I almost got you killed.”

He patted my arm as if to say “It wasn’t your fault.”

“It
is
my fault.”

“Nya.”

“It is!”

“We have to get these guys inside before anyone sees us,” Kione said, tugging at my shoulder.

Danello sat up, pale but no longer dying.

“Can you walk?” I asked, helping him up.

“I’m fine.” He swayed to his feet and held on to me. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I didn’t look at him. We’d barely won this fight, and I didn’t want to think about taking on more guards.

“You there! What are you doing in here?” shouted Elder Vinnot. He and several more guards stood at the top of the stairs.

I saw three before Danello shoved me forward toward the spire room. The others were already racing through the door. Slipping inside, I spun on my heel and grabbed the door as Danello barreled through, the guards right behind him.

“Shut it!”

Tali and I threw ourselves against the door. It slammed shut, but flew open again as the guards hit it, knocking me back onto my butt. Tali pushed against it again, but she didn’t weigh enough to reclose it. Aylin jumped over me and added her weight.

Danello looked around wildly, patting down his hips. “Where’s my rapier?”

One of the guards fought to wiggle through, pushing the door farther open. The hallway behind him was full of green uniforms.

“We can’t hold it!” Aylin said, her face red.

Danello kicked the guard’s leg. He cried out and pulled away from the door. Aylin and Tali shoved again, and the door thudded shut. Danello pushed a shoulder against it as I scrambled over and slid the latch, locking it. Banging rattled the door, then shouts and swears.

“I can’t find Lanelle!” Kione said. He went from cot to cot, searching the apprentices as I had done earlier, looking for Tali.

Tali whimpered. “Oh, Nya, some are missing. Do you think they’re dead?”

The first row of cots was empty, but the rest were still full. I shoved the pynvium sack at Tali. “Start handing them out, fast.”

We’d need as many apprentices on their feet as soon as possible if the guards got in. They might be young, but Healers knew where the soft spots were on a body and where the vulnerable joints were. And that might be the only advantage we had.

“We have to block the door,” I said, dragging over a cot. Aylin ran to help while Danello kept his back to the door, but the latch was already pulling free of the wood.

“I have to find Lanelle first,” Kione said.

For a terrible moment, I hoped she had been in the row of empty cots. Shame twisted my guts, but if she was here, she’d tell them all what I’d done to her. “Later. We have to barricade the door.”

“But she’s hurt! I have to find her.”

“She’ll be dead if the Luminary’s guards get through. Help us!”

Bang!

The door shook. Kione went pale and raced for the closest empty cot.

“That wasn’t a fist or a foot,” Aylin said, pressing against the door.

Sword hilts? One of the small statuettes from an alcove? “They couldn’t have found a battering ram so fast.”

Kione heaved a cot into place. “Doesn’t matter what it is, it’ll break through.”

We kept dragging cots and piling them in front of the door. Danello showed us how to interlock them to make it stronger. It wouldn’t keep the cots from skidding along the floor when the door broke open, but they wouldn’t be easy to shove aside.

Bang!

A spidery crack branched out above the latch.

Danello glanced around. “Is there anything heavier in here?”

“Some cabinets, but I don’t think we can move those.”

Tali ran up to me, her cheeks flushed pink. “I need more pynvium.” She handed me the used chunks. They seemed so small, the room so large. I counted twenty-one heads in the dim lamplight. If they all held the same amount of pain as Tali had, I’d have to empty every pynvium chunk we had at least twice for each apprentice. Could we hold the guards off that long?

Kione wedged in a cot and looked hopefully at Tali. “Did you see Lanelle?”

“No, but I’ll look for her and heal her next.”

“She’s last,” I said without thinking. Fresh guilt hit me, along with everyone’s shocked stares. “Heal the worst off first. Lanelle just got her pain, but the others are close to death. They don’t have as much time. We have to heal them enough to get them mobile, then move on to the next.”

More guards hit the door, and a sprinkling of dust showered down on us. Kione laughed nervously. “A lot of good getting them moving will do. They’ll just die on their feet.”

“Better than being slaughtered in your bed,” Danello called as Kione raced back to look for Lanelle.

I grabbed the handful of pynvium. “Stand back.” I didn’t know if the pain would go through the door, but the guards might be close enough to get a sting or two. I threw the pynvium, concentrating on dandelions in the wind.

Whoomp. Whoomp, whoomp, whoomp
.

Startled cries from the other side, then thuds and frightened swearing. Hope fluttered in my chest. Maybe we
could
pull this off.

“Aylin,” I called as the empty pynvium clattered against the door and bounced down through the bed frames.

“Already going for them,” she said, rushing past me. She snatched up the chunks and ran back to the apprentices.

As Tali and Aylin brought the chunks back, I flashed them against the door. A few more yelps from the other side, but it looked like they’d learned to stay away for now. Soon other voices floated to me over the yelps and occasional tentative bang; apprentice voices, pained, scared, and angry.

“Help me, please. I need more.”

“Elder Mancov made me heal. I didn’t want to heal.”

“Get us out of here!”

I will, I promise
. We had more pain now, so maybe I could flash us past the guards and out of the League. Once we got everyone moving, we could heal and flash on the way.

“Here,” Tali said, handing me another handful of pynvium. “We’re going to need to do this a lot. There are a few that might only need one or two handfuls to be able to walk, but more need five or six.”

“Maybe we should start giving one to everyone and reduce the pain all at once?”

“Not yet. I have a few still in too much pain for that.”

“Okay, do what you think is best.” She’d know with a touch who needed it most. I focused on emptying the pynvium instead. I threw the chunks at the door again.

“Lanelle’s not here!”

Instead of the low
whoomp
, the pynvium fell harmlessly to the floor around the barricade. Danello looked at me in surprise, then let go of the cots to gather them back up.

“You can do this,” he said, smiling as if I needed encouragement.

Lanelle wasn’t here? She couldn’t be dead—she didn’t get that much pain.

“Nya?”

I took the pynvium and nodded. Another throw, another handful of pynvium filled with pain. But instead of the prickling sting, all I felt was shame.

What if the Luminary had made an
example
out of her because of me?

The handful hit the floor, unflashed.

Danello gathered it again, this time more than surprise on his face. “Nya, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Images of Lanelle crawling along the floor filled my mind.
Stay away from me!
she’d cried. Saints, I’d been so angry. But the Luminary would be a lot angrier. Maybe even angry enough to kill. It could have been her body people saw being carried to the morgue.

“We need pynvium over here,” Aylin shouted. “Hurry up!”

I held out my hand. “Just give me the chunks.”

“What’s going on?” Danello asked warily. The pynvium fell like accusations into my palm.

The fight wouldn’t stay out of my mind. The anger, the hatred that had washed over me as pain flashed over its victims. I concentrated on Papa and the dandelions and threw.

Whoomp
.

“Get those to Tali.”

Kione came over, twitching as if torn between leaving to hunt for Lanelle and staying where it was safe. “She was here before—I know she was. I saw her.”

“Maybe they healed her.”

“Then she’d be here, right? This was her post. She was taking care of them.” He shook his head and pointed to the cots. “No, Vinnot and the Luminary were standing right there, and neither cared about her at all. If they’d wanted to heal her, they would have done it before I got there.”

“Kione,” I said, exasperated, “I don’t know what happened to her.”

He pouted and stalked over to the cots.

Aylin dashed up and handed me another handful of chunks. “We have four up and walking now.” She said. “Their stories break your heart, but they’re going to be okay.”

“Good. How many more are close to death?”

“Just one.”

I threw the pynvium at the door again. It flashed before it ever hit, leaving faint white speckles on the wood.

“Kione’s pretty upset,” she whispered, glancing over at him. He sat on one of the empty cots, head in his hands. “I think he actually wants to go look for her.”

“If we get out of here, he can go look all he wants.”

“That won’t end well.” Aylin took the empty chunks and dashed away.

Danello stayed quiet until Aylin was gone. “You think they killed her, don’t you?” he asked from behind me, where it was safe from the flashing.

“I don’t know. Maybe not. She helped them, so why kill her?” The white speckles stayed in the wood, not blowing away like the dust had.

“But did she help willingly?” He paused, and I fought the urge to turn around and check his expression. “From what Tali told us, a lot of people agreed to help because they had to.”

“She knew what she was doing.”

“Are you sure?”

I wasn’t, but I wasn’t going to say that.

Danello sighed. “You’re acting strange. I know we don’t know each other that well yet, but that just doesn’t seem like you.”

Didn’t feel like me either. I was no better than Zertanik, trading one life for another.

Aylin arrived with another handful of pynvium. I flashed it, and she was off again.

“I don’t know,” he said. “You seem so different today, is all. You’ve been through a lot, and you might not be thinking clearly. I guess I’m just a little worried.”

“What you should be worried about are those guards—” I stopped and stared at the door. “When did the banging stop?”

“What? I don’t know.” He crept forward and pressed his ear against the door, near the white speckles. It had to be my eyes playing tricks, but for a moment I thought the door bent out when he touched it.

“Do you hear anything?”

“No. Think they’re unconscious? You’ve been flashing the door pretty hard.”

More people for me to feel guilty over. But this was war, wasn’t it? If they got inside, they’d kill us and the apprentices. I was just defending myself. Me shifting pain wasn’t any different from Danello using his rapier.

It sure
felt
different though. I’d never wanted to be a weapon. All I’d wanted was to save Tali. I threw the pynvium again.

Whoomp
.

No clattering, no thumps, no plinks of metals falling to the stone floor. I stared, shocked at the fine mist blowing back at me, and the soft hiss of coarse sand falling to the floor.

Saints and sinners! The pynvium chunks had disintegrated!

TWENTY

H
ad my anger poisoned the pynvium?

“What did you do?” Tali whispered, clutching my arm.

“Nothing. I did it the same way as before.”

“But it’s
gone
, Nya.”

Not completely, but the sand wouldn’t help us. Nothing would help us now.

Fearful twitters raced through the half-healed apprentices. “Gone?”

“There’s no more pynvium?”

“Not again!”

Quiet sobs came next. I wanted to curl up on the floor and cry with them.

“I’ve never seen it do that before,” Tali said.

“I don’t know what happened.” I couldn’t have destroyed it. The Saints couldn’t be that unfair. What good was a monster who shifted and destroyed the one thing that could help those she hurt?

I waved a hand at Aylin. “Bring me the rest. Maybe I tried to do too much at once.”

She collected them off the floor and handed them over. I took them and threw one chunk against the door. It flashed like always. One of the apprentices even clapped, but the others hushed her.

“See? It worked! I don’t know what happened before.”

I threw a second. It flashed and turned to sand. Gasps and groans rippled through the room.

“I don’t—it just—” I stared open-mouthed at the door. The pynvium was gone, but the white speckles now covered a band a foot high across the middle of the door.

I threw the rest, one chunk after another. All but two crumbled.

“Maybe pynvium can hold only so much pain?” said Danello. “Just like people?”

Bang!

We all screamed as the door cracked inward like a burst bubble. Right across the white speckled area. Saints! Flashed pain hurt people; did it hurt
things
as well?

“They’re breaking through,” Danello said, pushing hard against the cots. “We need weapons. Kione, help us over here!”

I ran for more cots, dragging them over to fortify our barricade. I had to keep the guards out. Had to protect Tali and the apprentices.
Please, don’t let me have hurt all those people for nothing
.

Aylin dashed to the cabinets and started searching for anything that could be used as a weapon, throwing rags and sheets over her shoulder as she dug through the shelves. The apprentices opened drawers along the back wall.

Bang!

Guards shoved at the cracked door, and a sword blade slipped through. An arm followed, creeping in and patting around as if looking for the lock. Danello slammed his fist against the hand, and it yanked back.

Nervous whimpers scurried through the room. The healed apprentices backed away and huddled together. I’d tried so hard to save them, but I’d only made things worse. The Luminary would kill all of us. We were nothing to him. Nothing but
pynvium
.

“Aylin,” Danello called from the door. “Any luck on those weapons?”

“No!”

“Yes,” I whispered, turning around. Maybe I wasn’t a Healer, would never
be
a Healer, but right now we didn’t need healing, we needed weapons—and
that
I could be. I had a whole room full of pain to shift. “I need an apprentice!”

Kione gasped. “You’re going to use them on the barricade?”

“No, you henhead, I’m going to heal them
and
keep the guards out at the same time.” Kione just stood there, but Danello raced to the nearest cot and picked up a first cord a few years older than me. Hurt, but aware, she gritted her teeth and held her hand out to me.

“Give those Baseeri scum all I’ve got.”

I grabbed the first cord’s hand as another arm snaked in. It stretched, exposing a thin band of wrist between cuff and glove. Aylin grabbed the hand, held it down for me. I reached for flesh and
pushed
.

The man screamed, and the arm’s angle changed as if he’d collapsed.

“Bring others,” I hissed, needle stabs fading along my legs. Crushed bones for sure.

From Danello’s arms, another apprentice offered me a trembling hand and I took it, shifting quickly before the guards pulled another man away.

BANG!

The hole widened. Several cot frames snapped and fell to the floor. Wood screeched across stone, and the barricade moved a foot closer. A guard wiggled through the ragged hole in the door, kicking and shoving as he came, others right behind him, pushing him forward.

I turned. “I need more—” Words died. Behind me, the apprentices had formed a chain, hands clasped from cot to cot, the half-healed linking the rows and covering the gaps between those too weak to sit up.

Tali took the last hand and stretched her fingers to me, chin set, eyes hard. “Just like the twins, Nya, stronger when linked. We’ll draw, you push.”

It wouldn’t be easy. Each Healer could heal the previous one in the chain, but the farther along the chain they healed, the worse it would get. By the time it got to Tali, she’d be unable to stop it—and neither would I. I’d have the pain from inside every last one of them. But unlike them, I could get rid of it without pynvium.

I wrapped my hand in Tali’s, and Mama’s face came to me. I suddenly knew how she’d felt that last day, facing Baseeri soldiers. She’d died to protect us. I wasn’t going to let her—or Geveg—down now.

“Danello, grab him and pull back his sleeve,” I said. I’d flashed pynvium, so maybe I could flash a
person
, channel the pain through them to the rest of the room. Skin touched skin, and my hand warmed against Tali’s. It tingled and stung like I’d left it asleep for weeks.

We’d all done terrible things out of desperation. Things we’d never have considered before the Duke first invaded us, kicked us even harder when we tried to rebel. Danello wouldn’t have asked me to shift into his family. Lanelle wouldn’t have hurt her friends to keep her job. I wouldn’t have hurt strangers to save friends. None of it was right, but stitch together enough wrongs, and it makes a blanket that almost keeps out the chill.

I was tired of shivering under the Duke’s blankets.

I
drew
as Tali
drew
, as they all
drew
, reaching into one another, each healing the lower in the chain and dragging the pain up like a bucket from a canal. It rushed into me, boiling and hot. I opened a sluiceway as I’d done with the fisherman, the sisters, the parents, and families of those who came to Zertanik’s for help.

Blinding pain sizzled between us. Two dozen voices merged in a single scream. It echoed in my ears long after the pain had left me, and it wasn’t until Danello held me and smoothed my sweaty hair back that I realized the echoes were the guards’ moans outside the door.

“Nya?” he said, sounding worried. “Can you hear me?”

“Danello?” My tongue felt thick and heavy in my mouth. My arms felt heavier, and I wasn’t sure where my legs were. “Guards?”

“Unconscious, maybe worse. It looks like the pain went right through them all. As if it, I don’t know, flashed from the man you had ahold of.”

I sat forward and tried to move my limbs. Sharp tingling said my legs were indeed still there, though I wasn’t sure I wanted them right now. “How…others?”

“They’re okay. About the same as you, at least the ones at this end of the chain. The ones on the other side are better. They didn’t have to heal as much as your side.”

I managed to turn. Tali looked pale and sweaty, but was sitting up with a tired smile on her face. “Did it,” she mumbled. The others smiled at me, at one another. They were all alive and moving.

“We have to get out of here.” I struggled to stand. Danello helped me to my feet while Aylin helped Tali. “More guards will come.”

Across the room, apprentices stood, those at the far end helping those near the door. Excited whispers and grins raced along them, same as the pain had.

“What did we do?”

“Did Heal Master Ginkev ever say we could link like that?”

“Wonder what else we can do.”

“Wonder what else
she
can do.” Whispers ceased and eyes turned to me. My skin itched as if tiny spiders were running all over me.

I shook my arms. The last of the pain was fading and I felt like I had the morning after the ferry accident, but that muscle soreness would ease on its own.

I turned to the apprentices, the proof that the Luminary was lying, and the only people who could stop the riots and save Geveg.

“Come on—it’s time to go.”