Unguilded (5 page)

Valendi was already seated at the best table, and a Server was scurrying towards the bar, waving her hands to catch a fellow Guildsman’s attention.

Arabella calmly sat down.

“I’ve ordered tea,” Valendi told her. “If you want anything different, you’ll have to order it yourself.”

“Tea sounds lovely,” Arabella replied. She smiled gently and ducked her head. After the dusty ride, she would have preferred a cold lemon drink, but she wasn’t going to challenge Valendi on anything as minor as his choice of refreshment.

“You look troubled, Mage Guild Secundus,” Arabella said. “I hope it wasn’t anything I have done?” Valerio Valendi believed the girl had left Arabella alone to view the sunset. At least, he
seemed
to believe her. But a man didn’t rise to such prominence without being able to read people. She bit her lip and lowered her gaze.

“What? Oh, no.” The Server placed the tea pot and cups on the table, and Valendi scowled until she left. “My spell has not yet been activated.”

“The one you sent after . . .” Arabella hesitated. She didn’t want to remind the Secundus that it was her daughter he’d sent the spell after. “The Mage Guild runaway?”

“Yes. The runaway.” Valerio Valendi glanced at her. “She couldn’t have gotten very far, and yet my spell has not been triggered.”

Arabella leaned forward. “How could that be?”

“It’s possible I was too specific,” Valendi said. “The spell might have found her but not recognized her as the target.”

“Or, perhaps she has already succumbed to some other . . . misadventure,” Arabella said. It would be just like the girl to die before they could get proof. “By all accounts she had neither the skills nor the supplies required to travel on her own.”

“Perhaps,” Valendi said. “Before we board the ferry in the morning, I will execute another spell. We cannot allow a runaway to remain free.”

“Of course not,” Arabella said soothingly. She picked up the tea pot, filled a cup, and pushed it towards the Secundus. “Until then, why don’t we enjoy our tea?”

KARA BOLTED AWAKE.

“Gyda!”

Agony radiated from her wounded hand—she must have jarred it in her sleep. She whimpered, lying still until the pain subsided to a steady throb. Gently, she pulled her shawl off her hand and held her finger up to her face. Even in the dim light of pre-dawn she could see that the wound was infected. She crawled over to the stream and dipped her hand into the cold water. A few moments later, her pain numbed, she sighed and stretched out along the bank. The sun peeked out from behind the mountains, and a kestrel twittered as it flew overhead.

She dragged herself to her feet. She had to get moving. She was probably still being pursued, and—even more pressing—she had to heal her hand.

She’d learned the non-magical healing arts, of course, had even taught them to the younger Mage Guild students in the villa. Garlic, basil, calendula, any of them would reduce the infection. She knew what they looked like—she’d grown them in pots on the windowsill of the school. But she wasn’t sure if they grew wild, here on the mountain.

She closed her eyes, fighting despair.
Stupid burro—stupid me
!

Villa Merchant had a Mage Healer—she could be there by sunset—but then she’d be caught. Mage Guild would still be searching for her. If she wanted to survive, she needed to find the plants and treat herself.

It took less than an hour to search the glade and the path that led up to the road—but there was nothing to help her wound.

She settled her hand against her chest and studied the few scrubby plants that grew beneath the pine trees on either side of the road, but they were dry and brittle, nothing like the bright greens of the pots of healing plants.

She didn’t want to turn back for Villa Merchant, but would she rather die than become a breeder?

She looked behind her, back the way she’d travelled. Life was there—but not a life she wanted. She looked forward and shivered despite the heat. She was afraid of what lay ahead—her wound could kill her, pursuers might catch her, or Valerio Valendi’s mist—his
spell
—would do whatever unpleasant thing it had been sent to do. But she couldn’t—
wouldn’t
—become a breeder.

KARA’S MOUTH WAS
dry and her finger throbbed. Despite the early hour, the hot wind that blew down the mountain offered no relief from the heat.

The ground was hard and rocky where she stood, but when she peered over the edge, she could see green bushes. She had to hope it was another stream or maybe a spring.

She pulled the shawl off a finger that was so swollen she could hardly move it.

With her skirt tucked into her waistband, she carefully made her way down through scraggly trees. Her foot caught on a root, and she reached out with her right hand to steady herself against a tree.

Pain shot up her arm with a brutal intensity.

“Gyda!” She cradled her hand against her chest and sucked a breath in through gritted teeth.

The wind direction must have changed because the sound of rushing water reached her now. Kara closed her eyes in relief—there was a stream.

Gingerly, with her right hand tucked against her chest, she made her way towards the sound of water.

The banks of the stream were steep, and at some point in the past, the flowing water had been strong enough to undercut them. Now the water flowed slowly over the rocky streambed, leaving a wide, muddy flat between the stream and the overhang.

Kara slid over the bank, dropped to her knees, and plunged her injured hand into the water. The relief was immediate, and she slumped onto her hip, her damp skirt bunched up around her legs. Exhausted, she rolled over and scooped some water into her mouth. When her hand was numb, she pulled it out of the stream.

She walked along the muddy flat, hoping to find a useful plant—medicinal or edible—but if she passed one, she didn’t recognize it in the waning light.

Well past where she’d entered the stream, she found a gently sloped bank and climbed up onto dry land.

She was in a small glade—tall grasses waved in the breeze and a young willow tree grew a few yards away. Too tired to even make it that far, Kara simply lay down where she was, her wounded hand cradled against her chest. She could feel the heat from her infected finger through the heavy cotton of her blouse.

She should get up, she should find something to eat, and look for garlic or calendula to help reduce her infection. Instead, she fell into a troubled sleep, giving the threat of pursuit only a single, fleeting thought.

SOMETHING WET AND
warm dribbled onto her cheek. Kara reached her left hand up and wiped.
Yuck
. Whatever it was, it smelled. She rolled over, trying to get away from the sticky slime.

She felt hot breath on her neck, and something tugged at her blouse.

“What?” she muttered and pried her eyes open. The sun was bright—it was almost noon she guessed, and she was sluggish and feverish, and her finger ached. She looked over her shoulder at a burro.

“Gyda, go away.”

A white muzzle—slimy with green drool—hovered over her. Big brown eyes watched her with friendly interest, but wary of the burro’s teeth, Kara rolled away. The burro, of course, followed.

“Go away!” she yelled.

The animal lowered its head and nudged her chest, leaving a trail of green ooze on her blouse.

Getting to her knees, Kara whipped her shawl off her shoulders and waved it at the burro, which nipped at it. She cringed at the sight of the burro’s teeth and snatched her shawl away. She edged farther away, but the burro followed.

Keeping her sore hand tucked to her side, Kara got to her knees. She dragged her left hand along the ground, picking up dirt and twigs and a few pebbles.

“Go. A. Way,” Kara said. She threw the handful of dirt at the burro and scurried backwards as fast as she could.

The burro snorted and stepped away.

“Hey! Zayeera didn’t hurt you.”

Startled, Kara looked past the burro. A blocky man of middling height strode towards her, a scowl on his face. He grabbed the harness on the burro and pulled it close.

“What’s wrong with you?” he shouted. “She’s just curious, is all. And there you go trying to blind her.”

“Sorry,” Kara mumbled. She edged away from him. “I didn’t mean to hurt it. I just wanted it to leave me alone.” She held up her injured hand. “A burro bit me, and I thought it might have followed me.” She reached behind her with her good hand, searching for rocks. She’d throw them if the stranger came any closer.

“Oh, you got too close to a wild one, did you?”

The man took off his battered hat and rubbed a hand across his close-cropped hair.

“Not surprised it bit you, but it wouldn’t follow you. They don’t much like people.” The man took a step closer and peered at her hand. “That’s a right nasty bite. Maybe you should see a Mage Healer.”

“Um, yes.” Kara backed away from him. Why was he here? Had he been sent after her by Mage Guild? She eyed him—his shirt was bare of guild patches—but that didn’t mean he wasn’t guild.

“Nearest one is in Villa Merchant,” the man said. “In that direction.” He nodded towards the valley.

“I just need a few herbs,” Kara said. “Maybe you have them to spare?”

“Me? I’m no Merchant Guildsman you can buy things off of. And I got no reason to cross the guilds like that neither.”

“No, sorry, I didn’t mean . . .” Kara’s voice trailed off.

She
had
meant that, hadn’t she? All she wanted was something to help her infection. Was that wrong? Should the guilds, even way out here, determine what she could and couldn’t do?

“It’s just . . .” She shrugged. “It’s just that I know what I need and what to do with it. If you could spare some garlic or basil, or if you have calendula? Or if you spotted one of them in your travels, you could you show me?” She didn’t trust him, but she was desperate. She felt feverish—a sure sign that the infection was spreading.

“I might have some garlic,” the stranger said. He rubbed his head again before shoving his hat down on his head.

Now that his eyes were shaded Kara wasn’t sure what she was reading in them. After staring at her for a few more moments, the stranger seemed to make a decision.

“I won’t ask how it is you know some healer tricks, but I will help you. With one condition.”

“Yes.” Kara’s relief was tempered with suspicion. “What is it you want in return?” She didn’t have a choice. She would have to pay his price—whatever it was.

“You show me what you’re doing.”

Kara peered up into the shadowed face.

“In case my burro ever gets a hurt,” the man said quickly. “Not sure a Mage Healer would even look at her.”

Did he know what he asked? His mouth was a tight, thin line. He knew. Guild knowledge belonged to the guild—to give it to someone outside of that guild was a greater crime than running away. Betraying Mage Guild in this way could be death for both of them. But her life depended on treating her infection.

“I’ll show you,” she said. “I know other remedies as well.”

“All right,” was the reply.

“Thank you,” Kara said. “I’ll need hot water.” She stopped herself from commenting on how dangerous this was. They both knew they were breaking Guild Law, so there was no reason to talk about it.

Again Kara looked up into the shadowed face. The stranger pushed his hat back on his head, and she held his solemn gaze for a few seconds before he nodded.

“I’ll get your water,” he said. “I’m Mika Gianetta. A traveler. Let’s get you set up closer to my wagon, and then I’ll find what you need.”

Kara followed Mika to the far side of the willow tree. A small two-wheeled cart, its two wooden poles empty of the burro, sat there. The wood was grayed and weathered, and a dusty once-white tarp covered the basket of the cart.

Mika strode to the cart and flipped up the tarp. After a few minutes of rooting around, he dropped some items onto the ground.

Kara sat and leaned against the trunk of the willow, her eyes tracking Mika as he set about making a fire. She needed his help—that was all. She would trade a few simple healing tricks for his herbs—and a meal—she would dearly love some real food—but then they would part.

Once he had a fire going, Mika took a battered metal pot down to the stream to get water. The wet pot sizzled when he set it amongst the flames.

“Here you go, Donna.” He handed her a cloth-wrapped bundle. “There’s some garlic in there. And there might be something else useful to you as well.”

“My name is Kara,” she said as she took the bundle. “Sit down, and I’ll show you what I’m going to do with the garlic.”

Mika sat down on the ground, and Kara unwrapped the bundle of what seemed to be all of the man’s cooking herbs. She plucked a half bulb of garlic from the pile of herbs. She pulled out her small knife, quickly separated a clove, and sliced through it.