Touch of Power (17 page)

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Authors: Maria V. Snyder

BOOK: Touch of Power
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Halfway down a rank alley, he stopped. Three people waited at the far end. They just stood there as if they knew we’d be coming. The drum of many boots sounded behind us, echoing off the bricks.

I didn’t know why he’d hesitated. There were only three in front of us. “Should I use my knives and clear the way?”

“Won’t work,” he said.

“Why not?”

Kerrick didn’t answer. Instead, he walked up to the three. I followed a step behind. When we drew close, I saw two of the three were women. The lady in the middle was stunning. Tall and slender with long glossy blond hair, large blue eyes and full lips that stretched wide into a smile, she radiated beauty and powerful magic.

“Hello, Kerrick,” the lady magician said in a soft purr. “I see the rumors of your demise have been greatly exaggerated.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, Jael.”

Jael? The same woman Belen had mentioned? The soldiers had stopped a few feet behind us, as if waiting for orders.

“Oh, I’m not disappointed. Not a bit. After all, you’ve brought me a present.” She stepped toward me and extended her hand. “You must be Avry of Kazan. I’m so pleased to make your acquaintance. I’m Jael of Alga. Kerrick’s wife.”

Chapter 14

Kerrick’s wife? Quite the surprise, but that would explain why he refused to talk about her. Jael’s gaze remained on my face as I shook her hand.

She clasped my fingers in both of hers and held on. “Interesting. No heartbreak. What have you been telling her about me, Kerrick?”

He didn’t answer.

“He said nothing to me,” I said. “Why would I be upset?” Aside from the dozen soldiers behind us.

She pursed those full lips, considering. “Because I might steal him back.”

I laughed. “Please do. He’s been a pain in my ass for the past two months.”

Jael dropped my hand. “I see you haven’t changed in four years, Kerrick.”

“Neither have you. You can still lie with a straight face.” He glanced at me. “She’s not my wife. Jael enjoys playing head games.”

“Still bitter after all these years?” She tsked. “No wonder the pretty healer is happy to be rid of you. Kerrick and I were betrothed and almost to the altar when a stronger suitor stole my heart.”

“It’s been unpleasant reminiscing with you, but we need to go.” Kerrick grabbed my arm and stepped around her.

The air surrounding us thickened until we could no longer move. Magic rolled along my scalp like static.

“Cute,” Jael said. “You know better, Kerrick.” She faced us. “My magic is a gift from the air. It obeys me. I can even take your breath.”

My confusion lasted until I felt the air being pulled from my lungs. I struggled to keep it and to draw in more, but couldn’t. My lungs strained as black and white spots swirled in my vision. My healing magic flared to life, fighting Jael’s power. The wall of air holding me up disappeared. Weak kneed, I sank to the ground, sipping air. But not enough.

“She’s strong.” Jael sounded impressed.

“Jael, stop,” Kerrick said.

“Ohh… You care. How sweet. But she needs to learn who is in charge.”

On the edge of consciousness, I reached to gather my magic, but healing Kerrick had depleted my strength. The world faded as I suffocated.

I woke with a blinding headache. Unfortunately, my encounter with Jael hadn’t been a dream. She sat on an overstuffed armchair reading a book. Groaning, I rolled over. Someone had dumped me onto a couch.

“There’s tea on the table next to you,” she said. “Drink it. It will help with your headache.”

I fumbled for the cup. Sitting up, I fought off nausea and gulped the warm liquid. The pounding behind my eyes eased a bit. I downed the rest in two swallows. Feeling better, I scanned the room. Bookshelves, desk, chair, another armchair and glass tables filled the room. Afternoon sunlight streamed in, illuminating a beautiful black-and-silver rug underneath the desk. A fire crackled in the stone hearth. No guards stood by the door. If it wasn’t for the powerful magician sitting across from me, the room would be quite cozy.

Jael closed her book with a thud. “Now we can have a private chat.”

I wondered where they had taken Kerrick. If she liked to play head games, I wasn’t about to ask her about him and give her something to use against me.

“Don’t look so frightened, Avry. I’m not some Death Lily ready to swallow you up. If you cooperate, no one will harm you. In fact, I’m hoping you will join us.”

“Us?”

“My mother-in-law, High Priestess Estrid of Ozero, has been helping the poor plague survivors to put their lives back in order. We’ve amassed quite an army. And we have a few magicians working with us. However, we’ve had some skirmishes—it’s an unfortunate side effect of progress, and we’ve had our fair share of injuries. Plus disease and infections have taken a toll.” She leaned forward. “We’re in need of a healer. And it seems you are the last alive.”

Sweeping an arm out, she said, “You will be treated well, given every comfort and well protected. The High Priestess gives you her word that no harm will come to you.”

A dream job. So what was the catch? Stalling for time, I asked, “You can speak for her?”

“Of course. I married her oldest son, Stanslov of Ozero. He was first in line for the throne, but he left me a widow.”

Interesting how she appeared more upset about being a widow than in losing her husband. “Doesn’t the High Priestess have another son?”

“She did, but he died of the plague along with his wife. They left a little girl, the High Priestess’s only grandchild, but she’s very ill. In fact, we’d been searching for you for some time. She would like you to heal Nyrie first, if possible.”

“How far away is Nyrie?”

“She’s upstairs.”

Surprised, I asked, “Isn’t she in danger?”

“Oh, no. Our efforts to restore peace have expanded throughout Pomyt, so she’s quite safe. And when we heard you were in the area, we took a chance that we might catch up to you.”

I stood. “Take me to Nyrie.”

She gained her feet. Shock blanketed her face and I knew that was the first true expression she’d shown me.

“Does this mean you’ll join us?” Jael asked.

“I need some time to think about it, but I’m not going to use a sick child as a bargaining chip.”

“Oh.”

I had caught her off guard.

It didn’t last. “This way.”

I followed her down a plush hallway. Flames flickered from gold sconces, and elaborate paintings hung on the walls.

“You mentioned hearing about me,” I said. “From who?”

“We had a report from our training camp near Grzebien.”

My apprehension about being here turned into fear. They knew about my sister. Which meant they could use her to force me to work for them. Thankfully, Jael had the decency not to mention it at this time.

We climbed a grand staircase. The child’s room lacked for nothing. Her nanny sprang from a chair beside the canopied bed. She had been reading to the girl. Long copper hair fanned around the girl’s pale face. I guessed she was around five years old.

Jael introduced me to her niece. Nyrie gave me a wan smile despite the pain shadowing her eyes.

I perched on the edge of her bed and took her small hand in mine. She shot Jael a frightened look.

“What story was your nanny reading you?” I asked her. Healing magic swelled from my core, and I sought the source of the girl’s sickness.

“The story of Neil, the First Queen’s champion who crossed the Ronel Sea. He was the only one brave enough to request help from the sea dragons.” Her thin voice matched her skeletal body.

She had the wasting disease.

“Is that the story where he brings back fifteen dragon scales that turned into warriors when the First Queen’s grateful tears touched them?” I asked as I gathered the black fibers of the disease and drew it from her.

“Yes. The warriors chased the tribes into the wildlands and the First Queen gifted land to each of them. That’s why we had Fifteen Realms.”

I noted her use of the past tense. If Estrid kept expanding, then it was more than a possibility that the Fifteen Realms would cease to exist outside of stories. Pain bit down on my intestines as the wasting disease settled deep in my guts.

Nyrie sat up. Her warm brown eyes glowed. “My stomach doesn’t hurt,” she marveled.

Releasing her hand, I said to the nanny, “Don’t let her eat too much or else she’ll throw it up. Start with soups for a day, then gradually increase to thicker food.” I turned to Jael. “Is there some place I can lie down?”

“Of course. There’s a guest room.” She led me to another opulent room.

I slipped into the bed. Despite the needle-sharp pains in my lower stomach, I enjoyed how the mattress cushioned my back and the comforting weight of the supple blanket over me. Now this was luxury.

“Can I get you anything?” Jael asked.

“Nothing for now, but in about five or six hours I would like more of that tea.”

Only when she left did I wonder what happened to my knapsack, new cloak and weapons. Those thoughts led to Kerrick and the others. What were they doing? Was Belen organizing a rescue? I worried about them, but it wasn’t long before the fight to cure the disease consumed all my energy.

When I woke hours later a servant appeared with a pot of tea. She fetched more when I had drained it, and then brought me a tray overflowing with food. As soon as the scent of hot stew reached me, I felt ravenous. I devoured the stew, bread and cheese in no time.

After the girl cleared the tray, she waited for more instructions. The girl looked to be about thirteen. She wore an acolyte’s ruby-colored robe. I wondered if she had applied for this job or been conscripted.

Not wanting to start with personal questions, I asked, “Do you know where my knapsack has gotten to?”

“What do you need it for?”

“I’d like to change my clothes.”

“Would you like me to draw you a bath?”

I froze. “A bath as in a bathtub?”

“Yes, miss.”

“That would be
wonderful.

She smiled at my enthusiastic response. When she finished filling it, I eyed the tub as if it was the peaceful afterlife.

“I’ll still need clean clothes,” I said.

“Yes, miss. While you’re soaking, I will inquire about your effects.”

“Thank you.”

This time her grin included surprise before she darted from the room. Poor girl acted like she had never been thanked before.

I shed my smelly clothes and dipped a foot into the steaming water. All thoughts about the servant, my situation, Noelle, Kerrick, Belen and Jael disappeared as I sank into paradise. Lulled by the warm water, I dozed.

When the girl returned, I jerked awake. She carried my knapsack. “The High Priestess wishes to see you, miss. Do you have appropriate attire for a meeting with the Blessed One?”

The Blessed One? “What is considered appropriate?”

“Not travel clothes, miss. An acolyte’s robe would be best.”

“I have a skirt in my pack.”

“I can fetch you a robe.”

“No, thanks. I prefer my own clothes.”

She clutched my knapsack a little tighter to her chest.

“Would the High Priestess be upset with you if I showed up wearing inappropriate attire?”

“Don’t worry about me, miss. I’m just—”

“In a bad situation and trying to survive? Forced to be a servant for the High Priestess’s family to avoid being sent to a training camp?”

“I…”

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Inari, miss.”

“Inari, how about a compromise?”

She gazed at me in astonishment.

“I’ll wear my skirt and tunic, but I’ll wear the robe like a cloak.”

Inari considered.

“And I’ll let you do my hair.”

The clincher. She brightened. “That would be acceptable, uh, yes, miss.” Setting my pack down, she grabbed a towel and held it out for me.

I stepped from the tub, turning so she could wrap it around my shoulders.

Inari gasped. “Your back…”

Probably looked horrid. “Doesn’t hurt.” Curious, I asked, “What color are the marks?”

“A deep red, almost purple.”

Farther along than they should be. At least, that’s what I thought, having no real experience with such deep lacerations. I examined the scars on my stomach. It had been about forty days since I healed Belen. Visible but not red, the puckered skin shone a bit lighter than my beige skin.

Inari drew the towel around me. “Who would do such a thing to you?”

“I did it to myself.”

The girl covered her mouth with both hands. I suppressed a grin. She was too young to remember when healers had been respected. When all the big cities had at least one healer who lived and worked there.

“I healed a…” What to call Kerrick? Not a friend. “Someone who had been whipped.” By the High Priestess’s soldiers, but I didn’t want to increase Inari’s apprehension. Instead, I explained how my magic worked as I dried and dressed in my green skirt and yellow tunic.

Inari swept up my hair into an elegant knot. She pulled a few tendrils down and curled them with a hot iron rod. Then she fetched a robe and soft leather shoes. I eyed the shoe heel. Not too bad, but I wouldn’t be able to run far with those things on.

Finally ready, I followed Inari to the High Priestess’s receiving room. Two oversize soldiers guarded the ornate double door. Inari tapped on the wood. The doors swung inward. Inari knelt and bent forward so her forehead pressed on the floor.

I couldn’t see too far inside, but Inari waited until a voice gave her permission to speak. My opinion of the High Priestess slipped several notches.

Inari introduced me, and if the Blessed One thought I’d kneel for her, she was in for a surprise. I entered and Inari left, closing the doors behind her. Estrid sat on a divan, reading a story to her granddaughter. Nestled in her lap, Nyrie stared at the pictures in the book. Estrid’s powerful gaze, though, was focused on me.

Should I curtsy? Or bow? I decided to remain standing. The High Priestess gestured to the nanny who had been sitting in an armchair by the window to take Nyrie for her afternoon nap. The woman rushed to obey.

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